#haze for a few hours. because it will pass- they both know it will. but damn if it doesn’t hurt until then.

[trollbreak]

Girl help I’m on about peipre and yarrow hopelessly pining after each other the second the other one isn’t looking

[xanasaurusrex]

comforting clarisse after breaking her spear

clarisse la rue x reader (any godly parent) a/n: i promise this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away (:

clarisse was stomping through the camp after capture the flag. everyone was practically jumping out of her way, no one wanting to face her very clear wrath.

by now, everyone knew what had happened right before the blue team won capture the flag. percy, the new kid, and clarisse had been in a pretty heated fight. the ares kids that usually followed clarisse around had backed off, realizing that the fight was a little bit more heated than they anticipated.

percy and clarisse both had a hold on the spear, and when clarisse threw him over her shoulder, the spear had snapped in two.

nobody had seen clarisse this angry in a really long time.

clarisse knew that she hadn't been this angry in a long time. honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she had wanted to rip the world apart half as much as she did right now.

clarisse had spent enough time being forced into therapy by her mother to know that being this angry wasn't good. she was determined, even in her rage-induced haze, to not approach percy jackson right now, because she would only make things worse. yes, she hated the kid more than anything right now, and yes, if the opportunity arose, she would twist his arms right off his body, but again, that would only make things worse.

there was only one person right now who clarisse knew could calm her down enough so that she wouldn't go on a killing spree.

y/n.

clarisse didn't know exactly where she was, but she had a pretty good idea. if y/n wasn't there already, she would be soon.

clarisse completely bypassed all of the cabins and headed straight for the woods. a few people looked at her in curiosity, but a quick sneer from clarisse got them to mind their own business.

the second clarisse had passed the initial wall of trees into the woods, she took a second to take a deep breath of the pine-scented air. just taking a break from practically stomping through the camp, she felt a lot of the tension in her body relaxed. she was here, she was away from the prying eyes and nosiness of the other campers, and most importantly, she was away from percy jackson.

that was a big step in the right direction.

she looked up and to her right, and caught sight of the first tree. it had a circle carved into it. she walked past it, and a few feet later saw another tree with a circle carved into it.

she followed the trail of circle-carved trees into a clearing that she'd found during her first summer here at camp.

originally, clarisse never planned on sharing this area with anyone. it was only hers. it was her safe place from the world, from all the stresses and anxieties that plagued her day and night, an escape from camp.

the clearing was mostly used as her calm down spot, where she came when she was so angry all she could see was red.

like right now.

but then she met y/n, and at the end of their first summer together, clarisse took her here, and showed it to her. and so now, whenever they needed to, they met up here. to just... be for a few hours.

together.

when clarisse finally pushed past the tall grass that was closing off the clearing, and she stepped foot on the grass that clarisse cut every once in a while, she finally caught sight of y/n.

just seeing her made everything feel as if it was going to be okay.

clarisse felt her muscles relax completely, and all the angry thoughts were quieted as thoughts of her girlfriend climbed into her mind, took root there, and made themselves comfortable.

clarisse was okay with that, because thinking about y/n was much more pleasant than thinking about that punk percy jackson.

clarisse stood there for a few more seconds, admiring y/n. the way the sun shone on her hair. the rings that glittered on her finger, every single one of them gifted to her by clarisse. seeing y/n wear them always made her happy, made her feel like she could climb a mountain and barely break a sweat.

she was sure that she had never loved anyone as much as she loved y/n.

it was at that moment that y/n turned around. at first, there was a slight look of alarm on her face, but it calmed as soon as she realized it was clarisse.

"clarisse," y/n murmured, and just that one utterance of her name felt like a siren's song for clarisse, immediately drawing her to her.

y/n was sitting on one of the large boulders in the clearing, a thin blanket already spread out over the surface of it so she could safely sit on the rock without burning her legs.

y/n stood up, and walked towards clarisse. clarisse took a step closer to her, and then they were right in front of each other, faces just a few inches apart.

"hi," clarisse muttered.

"hi," y/n smiled.

the two looked at each other for a few more seconds, before y/n opened her arms, and clarisse immediately fell into them. clarisse's face buried itself in y/n's neck, and y/n didn't hesitate to start stroking clarisse's hair in the way that she knew she loved. the way her mother had always done when she would get overwhelmed as a kid.

clarisse let out a heavy breath, one that y/n suspected she had been holding for quite some time.

"do you wanna talk about it?" y/n asked quietly.

clarisse shook her head harshly, and then hugged her arms tighter around y/n's waist. "not yet."

"okay." y/n responded.

the two stood there hugging for a few minutes, clarisse's tight hold on y/n never wavering. clarisse's breathing was labored and heavy, and y/n knew it was because she was holding back tears.

clarisse was the kind of person who didn't like to cry. even though y/n knew that there were probably tears glistening in her eyes, clarisse was going to refuse to let them fall, because clarisse was determined to be as tough as possible.

y/n couldn't even begin to imagine the pain clarisse was feeling right now. her spear, the one gift clarisse had from her father, was now snapped in half and unusable. that spear had been clarisse's prized possession, the thing she regarded with utmost love and care, and never allowed anybody but her touch.

there had been one time that clarisse had allowed y/n to hold it for a few minutes, but even then clarisse was anxious at the idea of not being in complete control of it, even for a small amount of time.

y/n had heard clarisse's scream as her and the rest of red team chased after luke with the flag. she had been so close, ever so close, and had run even faster when she heard the scream clarisse let out.

when she stumbled onto the beach and saw the snapped spear, she immediately knew what happened.

y/n didn't stay to find out what happened after that, she just saw the way clarisse stomped off in anger, and she immediately rushed away to get to the clearing, knowing that clarisse would need to be calmed down.

and now the two of you were here, standing in the middle of your clearing, holding each other.

finally, after a long time of just standing there in an embrace, clarisse whispers, "that was the only thing i ever got from my dad,"

y/n pulled away to look at clarisse, and felt the small patch of wetness that clarisse had left behind on her shoulder. "i know, honey," she whispered. she took hold of clarisse's hand and pulled her towards the boulder that she had been sitting on previously.

once the two were sitting, y/n directed clarisse to lay her head in her lap. she began stroking her hair again, and occasionally stroking her cheek.

"i'm so sorry this happened," y/n whispered in clarisse's ear. "i love you,"

"i love you too," clarisse whispered back.

clarisse closed her eyes, wanting to block out the visuals of the world, and focus only on the way y/n's hand felt when it was stroking her hair and her cheek, and the comfort she felt whenever she was in y/n's presence.

she loved this. she loved that she had a person who she knew she was safe with, safe to tell anything to.

clarisse was sure that she had never loved anyone as much as she loved y/n.

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter three

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. All characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): cannonical violence, mentions of dark magic and torture

series masterlist; previous part; next part

Over the next few weeks, you and Riddle met up in one of the abandoned Astronomy classrooms to practice your lessons, and the library where you really did attempt to tutor him in Ancient Runes, with little to no luck. He was hopeless at the subject.

You were not friends by any means. You were like oil and water, not willing to step over the line that separated friend from foe. He was infuriating as ever, and he seemed to find your incessant need for asking questions entirely incorrigible. But you'd both come to an understanding: this was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of your mutual friends. It needed to be done.

Your own friends were starting to question the hours you spent with him and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to lie when Harry spent every spare waking hour, that wasn't spent in school or on the Quidditch pitch, scanning the Marauder's Map.

In this particular session, Riddle had bombarded your thoughts with so much information and strain that you thought you'd pass out from exhaustion at any second.

"You're unfocused." he stated, unamused as he watched your hazed expression.

"You've been hounding me, for hours. I'm tired Riddle. Give me a break." you mumbled, voice low and resentful.

No. It's only been fifteen minutes. Due to your lack of focus, the burning sensation had come back at full force, causing you to stumble into the desk behind you.

He tutted, as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist to support you from injury, knowing Theo would probably maim him if something happened to you. When his hands retreated, his touch left a tingling sensation in its wake.

"Fine. 20 minutes. But the hour's not up yet. We'll carry on afterwards." he sounded as irritated as he looked, which had become a common occurrence in these sessions, not helped by your sarcastic commentary whenever you had the strength to cause an argument with him.

You closed your eyes for what felt like seconds, but it must've been for the duration of your 'break' because he woke you up with a forceful nudge.

"Breaks over. Now block me out like I showed you. We both know you're capable, prove to me that this wasn't a massive waste of time."

The burning sensation was back once again but it was duller than before, more manageable.

Ron saving the most goals he'd ever saved in one singular match.

Trying to teach Riddle a simple Rune pattern.

Hermione running out of the Gryffindor common room, tears streaming down her face.

Lavender Brown snogging your best friend.

You successfully locked your thoughts away, securing the lid of the 'box' with a mental thud, watching as the distinct orb of energy you'd recognised as Riddle's magical core, floated to a standstill in your mind.

"Good." he says, his face impassive. "Again."

He enters your mind with more vigour, but you're prepared this time, focusing your energy on keeping the ball of his magic confined to one area of your mind, to stop him unlocking all your thoughts.

What he didn't know was that you'd been reading up on Occlimency in any spare time you had to yourself, which was slim. You focused all your attention on that bright silver orb in your mind and pushed back with as much strength as you could muster. Startled, Riddle's shields fell momentarily.

You found yourself watching him from an outsider's perspective. You were in his home, the Riddle mannor, which gave off an air of stale coldness. Like death itself had taken up residence there. Then you heard it. The low hissing of a snake, Nagini – the snake that had attacked Arthur Weasley just over a year ago.

You watched as she glided past you, towards the shadow of a figure you were too afraid to face.

"My son." Voldemort says, in a creepy sort of drawl. "Have you done as I requested?"

You watched as Riddle, cold and indifferent as always, sucked in a breath before he stared his father in the face. Wordlessly he let the double doors behind him open, letting Malfoy and Berkshire stumble into the room, eyes flickering nervously.

"Yes father." he sounded resentful. And you caught the glance he shared with his two friends. He looked remorseful and almost...sad.

"And what of Master Nott? Master Zabini?" you saw Riddle's facade fall for only a moment, then watched as his shields slipped as he cradled the back of his head with a barely contained wince. Voldemort was in his head.

"Very interesting, my son." Voldemort hissed, eyes narrowed on the boy, who looked entirely too small under his father's watchful glare. "This must be remedied. Perhaps a little punishment will remind you of your place."

Then you watched as a father cast an unforgivable on his only living heir.

You were forced out of his mind with a push similar to what you had done to him, and when you cast your eyes onto his, you found twin obsidian irises...glaring at you.

"Satisfied?" he snarled, stalking towards you, backing you against the wall of the classroom. "Do you feel accomplished, sweetheart?"

The way his fists clashed with the wall on either side of your head prevented you from interpreting this new nickname. You stared up at him, shock and apprehension painting your features.

His eyes, once a cool, calming brown were like deep, black holes, narrowed on your expression. It scared you, rendered you speechless.

You should be scared, sweetheart. I didn't give you permission to do that. Gods, even the voice in your head was frightening. He was menacing.

He seemed to break out of his staring trance and shook his head slightly, as if this was an outer body experience for him. He looked surprised at being so close to you; you swore his eyes trailed from your own to your lips, but it must've been a nasty trick of the light, to dissuade you from this crazed persona he suddenly harboured.

He sighed as he pushed off the wall and without a word, he left. Once again leaving you standing alone in a dark, empty room.

~∞~

The first Hogsmeade trip of the year is always a fun affair. You remember the very first time you stepped out of the carriage onto the cobblestone streets of the town with Ron and Hermione during your third year. And just like that first time, it was magical every year.

This year seemed extra special. Snow was falling heavily from the bright white sky and the third years were having fun throwing snowballs at each other. You were bundled up in warm clothes: hat, scarf, gloves and giant coat, in hopes of not having your limbs freeze.

"I am begging you," you mumble to the Golden trio, who walked beside you, "can we please go to the Three Broomsticks? I'm in need of a Butterbeer. Or better yet, a hot chocolate. I'm so fucking cold."

Ron only laughed at you while you shivered; they all agreed before he yelped and began hastily running away when he realised his detrimental mistake.

The idiot had dumped a load of snow on your head.

"RONALD!" you scream, but it's drowned out by your own laughter, along with Harry and Hermione's, the latter of which hadn't laughed much recently. "I'll get you for that you wanker!"

Your friends had seldom had time to have a proper laugh this year. Each busy with their own endeavours: Ron with his new girlfriend Lavender; Harry with Slughorn, under Dumbledore's ample instruction and Hermione, who was putting all her effort into avoiding the former and trying to persuade Harry to get rid of his potions book (which had given him a fast track to top of the class). It was a wonder that you'd convinced them to come along.

When you entered the pub, sodden and cold from the barrage of snow that Ron had unleashed on you, the warmth of Madame Rosmerta's heating charms caressed you like a tight hug. Unwrapping your scarf from your shoulders and removing your coat, gloves and hat, you slumped into the cushioned seat of a nearby empty table, not taking into account the surrounding occupants.

Riddle was sat among his friends, watching you. He'd been doing that more since he walked out on you a week ago. He didn't turn up to your next session a few days afterwards, and when he didn't show earlier that day, you walked out of the room, incredibly annoyed. But you weren't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was beginning to affect you.

As you sat side on at the table, with Ron facing his back to them, you saw how, despite his guard being held up extremely well, he huffed a laugh when Enzo said something entirely unfunny and rolled his eyes when Theo said something dramatic. You also saw how his jaw visibly clenched when Pansy was talking about the recent boyfriend who ended up being a complete dick. You wouldn't be surpised to find the boy beaten to a bloody pulp later.

You paid attention to your friends when Harry dropped a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of you.

"You truly are a life saver, oh Chosen One." you tease as he takes the seat opposite you.

"Piss off." he mumbles, but the smirk on his face tells you that he's not annoyed.

"I feel like we haven't spoke in ages." you say to your friends, who despite all being happy to see you, look like they'd rather be anywhere else. "How's being Captain treating you, Harold?"

As you let your friend mumble on about the stresses of looking after a group of rowdy quidditch players, you can't help the feeling that something terrible was going to happen.

~∞~

An hour or so later, the four of you were wandering down an icy path back up towards the carriages that would take you to the castle, the only other people around were Katie Bell and her friend Leanne, who seemed to be immersed in an argument that you paid little attention to.

Hermione was arguing with Harry about his potions book again when the air around you went eerily still. Then you felt it, this strange feeling. It was magic, you'd recognise the feeling from anywhere, but this was different, it felt entirely too dark.

When the four of you rounded the corner of the lane, that feeling grew inexplicably. Leanne had tried to grab a brown paper package from Katie's grasp but the latter had tugged it back, causing whatever contents inside to fall to the ground. That eery feeling seemed to increase tenfold and you staggered to a holt as Katie Bell was hoisted into the air by an invisible force.

The sight was harrowing. She was six feet in the air by the time you'd raced to where Leanne was panicking. The package appeared to be an antique opal necklace, and it was omitting a deadly magical signature. It was without a doubt, cursed.

Harry went to touch it, but you rapidly grabbed his arm. "Don't. It's been cursed."

He looked at you incredulously but at that moment, poor Katie, who's hair was whipping wildly in her expressionless face, let out a gut renching, terrifying scream.

It seemed that Riddle and his friends rounded the corner at that moment; Theo and Pansy running to stand beside you, faces matching your own. Katie was still screaming when Riddle went to examine the necklace.

"It's been cursed." he mumbled to himself.

"We've already established that, Riddle." you mutter, glaring at him. He ignored you. "We can't deal with this ourselves. We need a teacher."

He seemed to agree with you as he sent Enzo and Zabini running back to the pub in search of someone, anyone. In the meantime, Katie seemed to be losing height and was getting lower to the ground, although she was still writhing uncontrollably. Mattheo, Theo and Ron managed to gently lower her body to the ground and you immediately went to check her over, until she began thrashing and screaming again, knocking away your approaching hand, sending an excruciating sensation up your forearm.

You winced, but only Riddle seemed to notice.

Enzo and Zabini came sprinting up the lane at that moment, Hagrid following hastily behind them.

"Get back!" the gamekeeper yelled, prompting you to all back away from Katie.

Leanne was a mess, sobbing as she tried to explain to Hagrid but he seemed to hear none of it as he stared down at the writhing girl for a moment. Without a word, he scooped her into his arms and began to run back up to the castle with her, carrying her piercing screams with him.

Hermione and Pansy immediately went to Leanne's aid, but you didn't move from your spot on the floor, staring at your arm, that was still burning.

Someone knelt in front of you, and expecting Theo, you looked up, startled to find Riddle, staring at you.

You looked away from him, but he cupped your chin with his fingers to bring your gaze to his.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, a curious look on his face, and underlines of worry were there too. But you only had one concern.

"Why could I feel the dark magic in that necklace? And why did she burn me and not any of you?" you asked timidly. You appeared to be shaking, from the adrenaline or the cold, you were none the wiser.

"I'm not sure, but we'll figure it out." he assured, he looked as confused as you felt.

"How?" you snapped. "You haven't shown up for the past week, Riddle."

He sighed as if annoyed before he did something you didn't know he was caple of.

"I'm sorry, okay. You caught me off guard, and I panicked. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"Did you just apologise to me, Mattheo?" a slow smile began to graze your face.

"Tell anyone and I'll make you regret it." he muttered, but his brown eyes carried mirth as he stared at you.

You were about to reply when you saw Ron in the corner of your eye crounching bu the antique necklace.

"Don't touch it, Ron!" you said, jumping up, bursting the bubble that you and Riddle had created. Your friend startled and moved away from the necklace.

"I've seen it before." Harry mumbled and you watched as Riddle and all his friends tensed, it was a wonder that none of the boys you were with started throwing insults towards eachother. "On display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed, Katie must've touched it."

Theo scoffed, which seemed to remind the trio that the Slytherins were still there.

"Something to say, Nott?" Ron snapped.

"Anyone with a brain can see that it was cursed, Weasley. But you still went to touch it. Thank Salazar for Meadow." Theo rebutted and you had half the mind to stand between the two of them to stop the fight, but you felt lightheaded. You needed to sit down, or maybe sleep for a week.

You grabbed hold of the closest thing for stability: Riddle's stupidly strong arm. He startled but said nothing as he held you up, hands cradling your forearms.

What's wrong? His voice was a soft caress.

I feel like I might pass out. My arm is burning.

Did you touch the necklace?

I think I'd be halfway in the air if I did, Mattheo.

He looks concerned.

I'm taking you to Madame Promfrey. Take the necklace too.

He seems to say something to Theo, who interrupts a sobbing Leanne in favour of levitating the necklace away.

"We'll take this to Madame Pomfrey." he says and at Hermione's troubled look, he reassures her. "Meadow's with us. She'll make sure it gets there Granger."

With that, you're guided away by the Slytherin prince and all his friends, but it all feels like a fever dream.

~∞~

the change in nickname🫢

and Meadow called him Mattheo instead of Riddle🤭

gonna start a taglist too, as its been requested so comment if you want to be added xxx

taglist:

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8

[liveyun]

EYES LIKE STARS | j.jk (teaser)

banner by the amazing @itaeewon 🩵

summary. “He was everything you were not. He was perfect—too perfect. Always kind, always excelling, always loved by everyone, even your own parents, like a reminder of everything you weren’t. And you hated this. You hated him. You hated the way he always included you, the way he tried to help, as if you ever needed his pity. He was always there, almost like a shadow you could never escape.

Returning to the town that holds both your earliest memories and silent secrets, you’re forced to confront not only the unsolved knots you’d left behind all those years ago, but the boy who was always at the center of your pain. Whose eyes have always seen right through you : Jungkook.”

title. Eyes like Stars

pairing. Jeon Jungkook x afab reader/oc

rating. M (18+)

genre. e2f2e2L (you get it), angst, drama, romance, boy next door sorta situation, emotional baggage, eventual smut

warnings (for this teaser). emotional trauma, toxic parenting, negligence by parents, memories 🫠

word count. 1.4k

series masterlist | taglist | main masterlist | next →

Home smelled like old arguments and unspoken words.

It felt funny— really, how you expected your hometown to be abuzz with lights and joy because you were back in the town. Or, maybe because you’d expected it to change drastically, but much to your surprise— or disappointment, one would say, nothing really had. Everything seemed just as it was as compared to what your memory had told you, though, you were once again not very sure of what exactly you wanted to be changed.

Sure, there were some slight differences you could spot here and there as the Sedan sped through the dull, foggy afternoon street, making each and every detail seem like a blurry haze as you passed every shop, every lane. You wanted to stop and take a look around at things better, but however, you did know that you yourself had paid for this cab and it’s not going to stop until it reaches the destination.

Your home.

Or rather, your house.

The scent of rain-soaked earth mixed with the fragrance of jasmine blooming in the distance did pull a smile on your lips as you remember that jasmine was a speciality of your little town— as how you used to make little garlands from the withered flowers you’d found fallen on the pavements nearby your house.

You roll down the window of your seat, wanting to sniff the fresh air after hours of breathing recycled air in your eight hour long flight. A gust of wind greets you directly on your cheeks, feeling a chill run down your spine at the intensity.

You couldn’t lie, you’d missed this feeling. No matter how much you’d try to deny it, it did smell like older times when you used to enjoy the smell of wet earth after a drizzle, or the smell of seasonal flowers mingling with the damp air.

It somehow felt a bit unsettling how the wind that blew felt rather unwelcoming. You tried inhaling deeply, thinking it’s just your mind playing with you once again, but each time, the wind just felt like it burnt you, ironically being as cold as a winter morning breeze. It felt like a forced embrace, like somewhere you don’t belong to, but are trying your hardest to mingle in.

Wrong place.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to breathe, to remember.

You tried to remember good things. Things which would put a smile on your face, things which would put aside the bubbling anxiety in your belly away for a while. You sat back in the seat, trying out a few breathing exercises, but they do not really help.

Instead, you remember the echoes of their fights, the way each yell after yell rose from the ashes of fury and threatened to touch the ceiling.

“I told you this wouldn’t work out!”

And there used to come a reply, a sharp retort.

“Did you even believe in us to begin with?”

Instead, you remember how your poor heart felt like bursting out of your chest during these arguments between your parents.

“A child will fix everything,” was what they’d said, but all it did was tear their lives apart. . . alongside yours, which you believe they weren't really aware of. It did everything which turned you to a by-product of their expectations woven with their own aspirations, leaving you to bear the weight of their shattered dreams and unspoken grudges.

Was it ever your fault?

You don’t know.

You remember how scared you used to be. Clutching that old, dusty plushie which you vividly remember, smelled of nothing in particular, your small body used to tremble with sobs, wishing it would all stop. You could not really do anything, say anything, for whatever you said was churned into something you didn’t like.

“Mom.. d-dad, please, stop fighting..”

You remember those pairs of eyes who stared back at you. Specifically a pair of bloodshot, teary eyes who looked at you with an anger perhaps no word can describe. Her bottom lip used to quiver like a dried leaf on a windy day, her face flushed with fury.

“You. . . you . . . ! Why can't you be more like him?”

The car came to a stop, jerking you back to the present. You stay there, frozen, unable to do anything except breathe, until you hear the driver calling you out. You take another huff of air inside you, gripping the handle to steel yourself for what lay

You step out of the Sedan, having thanked the kind driver to help you out with your luggage. The smell of the rain-soaked earth immediately filled your lungs, grounding you firmly to place.

Returning to the place where you grew up, where every street, every corner seemed to whisper something akin to mockery, was more daunting than you’d anticipated. The familiar sights and sounds of your hometown were both comforting and suffocating, although now you’d say it was more on the latter side.

A part of you, small and foolish, had almost hoped that the old house would be as you’d left it—doors flung open, the smell of your mother’s cooking wafting through the air, laundry spread out in the wires to dry, and your father’s booming voice echoing from the living room. You’d even imagined them standing on the porch, waiting with that old enthusiasm, eager to welcome you back as if nothing had ever happened.

But reality was far from those faint, lingering hopes.

Your eyes trailed over the familiar, weathered facade of the house, now so empty, so silent. You wondered if your parents really lived there anymore, because the eerie silence that knocked your heart was more than scary to admit that you really had lost touch with your parents. Yet, it felt like the echoes of the past were still trapped within those walls. How you’d left it behind. The front fence was just how you’d remembered it to be, old and worn out. You were right, nothing really had changed.

It felt like you were standing in front of a deep, hollow void, where you’re expecting some sort of miracle to happen, but alas.

You’d wish.

Feeling your chest tighten, your heels almost take you back— you almost turned to leave, feeling way too anxious and shitty to take a step forward. Your hand was tightening around the handle of your suitcase, but something held you back. A memory, unbidden, flashed through your mind.

It was those eyes—those damn eyes which shone like buttered chocolate. Always watching, always understanding. They weren’t just any eyes; they had a way of catching the light, glimmering with an intensity that made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way that was both comforting and terrifying. You could never hide from those eyes, no matter how hard you tried to.

They had followed you everywhere, lingering on you with a softness that made your defenses crumble, even when you didn’t want them to. There was something about the way they would crinkle at the corners when he smiled, how they darkened with concern whenever you turned away too quickly. They held a sparkle, a depth you couldn’t fathom, a warmth that burned you with its sincerity, and a quiet strength that made you want to trust him—except you never could, even if you’d tried. Or wanted to.

You remembered how they looked at you, full of questions you never wanted to answer. With kindness that you never thought you deserved. The way they bore into you, as if searching for something you weren’t ready to give, always made you feel naked— exposed, vulnerable, in a way you couldn’t explain.

You shook your head, pushing the memory away, but it clung to you like a shadow, which is always there with you, struck with you. The last time you saw him, his eyes glimmered with just a silent understanding that had way cut deeper than any argument ever had. His eyes had said everything you didn’t want to hear, everything you were too afraid to acknowledge.

You didn’t want to acknowledge, anyway. You didn’t want to acknowledge him, nor his kindness, nor his sincerity.

You wonder, briefly, if he still remembers you. If he ever knew how much of a pivot he was in your life, then maybe, maybe, some of his answers he held could’ve been answered.

The wind blew again, cold and sharp, almost as if pulling you back to the present. You sighed, letting go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and took a step forward.

There was no going back now.

a/n : hello there! if you’ve read it till this far, thank you for reading <3 i’ve written something after a very long time of having a terrible writing block since ages. if you liked this teaser and are exicted to read more, please let me know through your feedback 😞 they’d mean the world to me. 💜

just in case if you want to give me an anonymous feedback, you can do that here! 🌹

[samkerrworshipper]

twos a company, threes a crowd pt.4 | alexia putellas x reader x lucy bronze

r is loaned to real madrid and suffers with being away from her partners for so long… when the el clasico rolls around all of her problems are solved… but not without some repercussions for her actions.

warnings: angst, fluff, comfort, sadness, over working, touch deprived, sleep deprived, punishment, safe word use, injury, concussion, so much angst lol but y'all were begging for it.

Getting loaned to Real Madrid was possibly the worst thing that had ever happened to you. 

You’d been blindsided by the request, you were happy at Barcelona, you were Barcelona’s star striker, an indomitable force on the field and you’d just won the Liga F golden boot, you were everything to Barca, until you weren’t. It was astronomical to your teammates that Barcelona would loan you out, seemingly it was for the money and with the hopes that you would learn some leadership skills from being the strongest in a team. Real Madrid was paying a hefty fee for your season with them, but it still hurt knowing that to Barcelona you were a mere transaction. 

Everything you loved and knew were in Barcelona, your family, your girlfriends, your house, your dogs and cat, your friends.

Madrid was great, and there were plenty of upsides to the team, they were all lovely, the coaching staff was great, your new apartment was awesome, but there were things missing, your girlfriends firstly. 

You face timed every day. It had been impossible for the two women helping you pack up and move all of your things across the country. Sure, they were only a six hour drive away and a hour long flight away, but it killed them both nonetheless. 

They saw the way that as the season progressed you began to become more tucked up in your own shell, the bright light in your eyes slowly fading. It killed them, talking to you every night and seeing the way that your eyes struggled to meet their own anymore. 

They loved you more than anything, but you were a person who needed structure, you couldn’t function by yourself. You needed attention, attention that they couldn’t grant you from hundreds of kilometres away, so you started to get cheeky and bratty. Sending them videos of you touching yourself in the shower, or explicitly disregarding text messages they were sending you. Normally, the two older women would be pissed off, and they were, but the underlying theme was that you were struggling, struggling being away and your coping mechanism was to act out for their attention. The more weeks that passed without their presence, the more needy you became for them, the desperation for your two girlfriends growing in your stomach and slowly swallowing up all of the other organs that resided in your body. 

With the El Clasico match quickly approaching though, the women took solace in knowing that you would be able to spend the rest of the weekend after the game, that they’d finally have you in their arms and for even a second they could make you feel loved and less alone. 

You’d agreed that before the game you’d be strictly professional, you’d stay in your hotel room but as soon as the game was over you were heading back to your old house for a few days of peace with your girlfriends. You were a little bit scared, when the facetime request chimed in from your phone the night beforehand, you were lying in your hotel bed and you couldn’t help but feel anxious. Because you knew what you’d been doing to the women the last few weeks, it had been like a game for you, seeing just how much you could push before you found the end to the Barcelona players tethers. 

“Hola Bebita.”

You pushed yourself up from the bed sheets, sitting yourself up against the headboard to get a proper view at Lucy, whose face was directly in front of yours on the phone screen. 

“Hi Luce.”

Your voice was as meek as ever, your throat clearing itself from the sleepy haze you’d been in. 

“How you doing sweetheart?”

Lucy’s voice was so sweet, it was interesting to you, considering the outwardly explicit videos you’d been sending them over the week, progressively getting more scandalous the closer your date came to travelling to Barcelona for the game. You were expecting a angry Lucy, deiniftely an angry Alexia, especially considering that you’d broken her one cardinal rule that she’d given you before you left. 

Do not orgasm without her permission. 

That wasn’t to say that Alexia was expecting you to hold out for months at times, of course not, she just expected you to call or text her, so she could guide you through it, you’d explicitly ignored that rule, and you expected her to be annoyed. 

“I’m okay, tired from the train, how’s Ale’s knee?”

There was worry laced in your words, when you’d received the news that Alexia had a set back with her knee you’d been gutted for her, and worried, because Alexia tended to fall down the rabbit hole when she was injured, and you just hoped that she was doing alright. 

“It’s a minor injury, nothing to do with her ACL, which is good. She’s sitting out tomorrow, so she’s obviously upset, but it’s not her ACL, so that’s what matters the most. She’s in the bathroom right now, but I’ll chuck her on when she’s done. How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

Lucy’s voice was so genuine, so calm, so caring, and if you were feel less insecure you probably would have confessed all of your worries to her, but you felt so fucking desperate for Lucy and Alexia that it was starting to hurt you but you also didn’t want to come across as needy, even if you felt like you were breaking at the seems for them. 

“Okay.”

Your answer was short, and Lucy frowned at it, because she knew that you were most likely feeling anything but okay. She was going to push it, but she was interrupted by Alexia emerging from the bathroom and walking over to join her on the bed, climbing under the sheets and pulling Lucy’s phone from her hands so she could look at you. 

“Hola bebe, how are you?”

Alexia’s voice is gruff, and if you didn’t know her so well you probably wouldn’t have picked up on the slight puffiness to her eyes, that told you she’d probably been crying whilst she was tucked away in the bathroom, you knew her like the back of your palm though. 

“I’m okay, how’s your knee?” There was some obvious tension coming from Alexia, tension that you were sure you’d get to feel in person tomorrow. 

“I’ve had bigger setbacks, we still have to assess the scans indepthly and get a treatment plan in action. It’s probably just a few rough weeks, but I’ll make it.”

You nod, she always does, she never fails to amaze you with her can-do attitude and determination to always be better, to always be at the top of whatever she’s doing. 

“I believe in you.”

Ale gives you a soft smile, and it doesn’t calm all of the nerves contained in you but it does manage to calm your heart down. 

“We’re so excited to see you tomorrow amor, you’re going to make us proud even in that ugly uniform.”

You know that no matter what club you are at, Alexia and Lucy are always going to be your biggest supporters, but you can’t shake the reminder that tomorrow, when you step on the pitch, all of your friends and family are going to be your enemy. 

It plucks at your heartstrings, and almost sends tears to the back of your eyes. 

“How’s the team been? I feel like we haven’t talked about any of it with us all being so busy.”

The team was fine. 

That was the problem, the team was your team, but they weren’t your family, they weren’t the support that you needed and craved. 

“They’re good, Olga’s been nice and me and Raso get along.”

The two women nodded, they knew they weren’t going to get much from you, but this was even less than what they had expected. 

“That’s good, you can tell us all about it tomorrow, hmm? We’re so excited to hear every single detail.”

The way both of their faces were so happy and content made your stomach do front flips. 

“I’m excited to see you guys as well.”

It’s hard for you to admit, because for the last six or so weeks that you’ve been apart, you’ve internally been denying it, trying to convince yourself that you were fine without them, but in reality you were struggling more than ever. 

Alexia gave you a small smile, her lips tightening upwards into a sweet smile. 

“You’ve been taking care of yourself, sí? Getting your sleep and listening to your dietician?”

You don’t like lying to anybody, especially Lucy and Alexia, but in your mind in some situations, there is justification for some white lies, especially when it’s going to benefit the person you’re lying to. 

“Yup.”

Your words are half empty, trying to get this conversation over as soon as possible. 

“Well, we’d better let you get to sleep then, we’ll see you tomorrow bebe, don’t hesitate to call us if anything happens, okay?”

You nodded at the two of them, a little part of your heart begging for them to hang up so you didn’t have to see how happy they were together, how at peace the two of them looked lying in bed together without you. 

“Bye, see you tomorrow.”

They both smiled at you, Lucy pressed a kiss to the camera. 

“We love you amor, good luck tomorrow.”

You gulped, just another reminder of what tomorrow held. 

“Love you guys too, see you tomorrow.”

Before you had to look at them any longer you pressed the red button, dropping your phone onto the duvet and groaning into the pillow behind you. 

You’d never considered yourself as the jealous type, in the beginning of your relationship you’d been the glue that kept it all together, Alexia brought Lucy in for you, not for herself. When you’d been in Barca their relationship had grown slowly, but surely, you encouraged it. 

When you’d left, you’d almost been scared that it would be the end of your relationship with the both of them, you just weren’t sure that they’d be able to sustain it, but you’d watched their relationship strengthen massively, the two of them becoming practically inseparable in your absence. 

You were happy for them, so incredibly happy, but it made you feel a little bit out of place, a little bit like when you returned to Barca everything would be different, maybe all of their love was being used for each other and they didn’t have anymore to give to you. 

It felt like you’d become a chore for them, a scheduled call every few nights, flowers or meals showing up on your doorstep every week from them, texts here and there asking how you were doing. 

You were all trying your best, but they had each other, the both of them got to come home to each other every night, you came home to an empty apartment. 

Your apartment was a shell, exactly the same as when you’d moved in. 

You didn’t put out any pictures, didn’t buy any furniture, it seemed pointless to you, because Real Madrid was supposed to be temporary, you didn’t want to settle down, didn’t want to become at home in a place that you would be leaving as soon as you could. 

You knew it wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you, or it worked for the first little while. 

The hard part though was that you didn’t have a home at all, and a person can only survive so long without having some form of home, some form of comfort. 

You tried your hardest to sleep through the night, to get some rest before the game, but no sleep came to you as you lay in the lump hotel bed trying your very hardest. 

The team all woke up at 7 o'clock and headed down for breakfast, you went with them but kept to yourself, sitting by yourself. 

You weren’t hungry, more emotionally starved than anything. 

You got a few wayward glances, but you ignored them, opting for scrolling through your phone and trying to put yourself in the right headspace to get you ready for the hellish day that was to come. 

It was a 12pm game so as soon as breakfast was done the whole team was being sent to the bus to Camp Nou. 

It was a bittersweet feeling, returning to a place that had so many incredibly positive memories for you, with a completely different group of people, people that you liked but you didn’t love. 

Your anxiety only rose as you got even closer to the stadium, the realisation of what was about to happen setting in for you. 

Stepping off the bus and into the stadium was weird, normally, it would be with your closest friends, Ale by your side as the two of you stepped foot into a place that had been the highlight of so many of your childhood dreams. 

Barca had always been the dream, when the two of you were little kids it had seemed unachievable, a mere figment of your imaginations, and then it had come true, but it wasn’t your life anymore. 

You kept your head down, speed walking into the change rooms and getting into your game kit as quickly as possible before walking out on the pitch to warm up by yourself. 

Instead of being met with an empty pitch, you were met with a lot of your ex teammates already out warming up, and your girlfriends as well as your closest friends loitering by the sidelines. 

It’s impossible to avoid them, they’re standing directly in front of the entrance to the pitch, you wouldn’t put it past Alexia or Lucy to have planned it, planned a little sneak attack on you pre-match. 

You dragged your feet up and out of the tunnel, loitering a little bit as you waited for one of the women to take notice of you. 

It didn’t take long, Ingrid being the first one to spot you, her big green Norwegian eyes lighting up when they landed on you, her arms lighting up almost immediately, a small squeal leaving her lips. 

The whole group was quick to turn to you, both Alexia and Lucy’s faces lighting up as they took you in. 

“Bebita!”

Alexia looked insane for an injured person, the Barca olympic t-shirt and leather jacket hugging her body perfectly and making her look absolutely drop dead gorgeous. 

Alexia’s big arms opened to you, and you allowed yourself the luxury of walking into them. 

You felt so safe, so at home, it made you sort of sick to your stomach, so much so that you forced yourself out of her arms. 

You knew it was only going to be harder the more you integrated yourself with them over the next few days, because it would only make leaving that much harder. 

Alexia frowned a little bit at the way you almost pushed her off of you, it hurt the Catalan woman more than she would ever admit. 

“You oldies ready to get your asses kicked?”

Mapi’s jaw dropped, her arms reaching for you to put you into a headlock, the only thing stopping her being Ingrid. 

“Oldies? Disculpe? It’s called being experienced.”

You smiled a little bit at Mapi, she was like your older sister, the closest you had to one. 

“Sounds like an excuse for being old.”

Mapi just rolled her eyes at you, her arms opening up for a hug and you allowing her to. 

“It’s good to see you, nena.”

Mapi lets you go fairly quickly, letting you take a step back from the group. 

“It’s good to see you all as well, I’ve missed you guys.”

It was murmured under your breath, the loudest you could vocalise without the words hitting you across the chest. 

“We’re going to have to put a stop to your scoring fun tonight I think, 4 braces in a row? Can’t let you get too big for you… what is it the English say? Pants?”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at her girlfriend and her lack of knowledge for English idioms. 

“Britches, but we get your point.”

Mapi nodded, a little sparkle in her eye. 

“Yes, well, me and Lucia will have to work hard to keep your magical feet at bay.”

You laughed humorously, entertaining María. 

“I guess we’ll have to see, you oldies should get to warming up, don’t want to harm those old bones.”

Alexia hit you across the shoulder, rolling her eyes at you before bringing you into a brief hug and then pushing you towards your half of the pitch, where a few of your teammates were already warming up. 

You went through the motions, all of it blurring in your mind as your eyes glazed over the iconic Barcelona stadium, this was once your home, it was the pinnacle of your career, not today though.

Walkingout of the tunnel, and onto the pitch, a crowd full of blue, red and yellow, normally would be the adrenaline hit of a lifetime, enough for you to walk up mount everest, but not today, today it did nothing but make you weak at the knees and sick to your stomach. 

You did your best to avoid your former teammates' eyes as you shook hands before taking your starting positions. 

Mapi was marking you, which wasn’t abnormal for when you were in training, but dealing with it during a game was a whole different playing field. 

She was one of the best centre backs in the game, you knew this, the crowd knew it. 

You were faster though, more agile, quicker on your toes. 

That was your advantage, that was what you had to use against her, and you planned to do so. 

The first thirty minutes saw no shot opportunities for you, Salma and Aitana both managed to slot in their own goals though, leaving Real Madrid and yourself with big room for improvement. 

You put your head down, focused on what you knew you could do, waiting for the opportunity to come, and it finally did in the form of a beautiful cross from Olga that was sent directly to your head and then into the back of the net.

Your team went wild, you were shocked, completely gobsmacked at how the ball managed to somehow slot itself into the corners of the goal, you didn’t have time to wonder though, your whole team engulfed you in a big hug. 

You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, the crowd booing you as your teammates pushed you back to your position gutted you, never in your life would you have expected to be booed after scoring, but here you were, standing in the stadium of your childhood dreams with a crowd booing at you.

It was then, in that very moment, that everything sort of set in for you, and as Barca kicked off you couldn’t help but find yourself stuck in position, your studs dug into the turf as you willed your legs to move. 

All you could do was sit and watch the ball moving on the other side of the pitch, the blood was rushing to your ears, deafening you of the booing and making you feel like you were in a fishbowl. 

You felt like a spectator, a external part of your body. 

It was only when the ball was being sent your way, in the form of a pass from Bruun that you finally found yourself being able to move, your legs darting towards the ball as you searched for someone in the box, finding Raso and sending the ball soaring towards her before Mapi had the chance to land a tackle against you. 

It was bread and butter, a simple pass, one that you could make in your sleep. 

For whatever reason though, it came off your boot completely wrong, not making the distance nor going remotely anywhere near Hayley. 

You growled in frustration, cursing under your breath as Lucy of all people took possession of the ball and sent it flying as far down the field as her bott could muster. 

Ras sent you a worrying glance, a silent question of what happened, all you could do was shrug and wonder to yourself what was happening? Why was this happening?

You hardly made it to half time, your body just managing to hold itself up long enough to trudge back into the tunnel and down into the Real change rooms, where Alberto was already getting into his half time pep talk. 

You accepted a gatorade and protein bar from one of the trainers, focusing all of your energy on sustaining yourself instead of paying attention. 

You weren’t trying to be respectful, but today, everything was harder than normal, thinking, breathing, moving, living. 

You weren’t sure why, you were fairly sure you didn’t really want to know why, you just knew that today of all days just wasn’t yours, and it made you hate every single part of yourself. 

By the time half time was over and you were making your way back onto the field, your head was somewhere else entirely, everything from the past few weeks playing on repeat in your head. 

You weren’t in the headspace to be doing anything at all, let alone play out a match of football, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. 

It was clear Mapi had picked up on your inattentiveness, her eyebrows furrowed in concern as the both of you tried to watch the ball moving on the other side of the pitch. 

She didn’t push you, she knew better than to, knew from experience that when you got pissed off on the pitch it was a ticking time clock. 

The ball didn’t end up anywhere near your feet until the 80 minute mark, Barca’s midfield managing to stop any attempts at getting the ball into your third. 

It was aggravating, but you were also grateful, because the longer the ball was away from your feet the further your mind began to drift to places you didn’t trust. 

What happened when the game ended?

When you had to go home to Alexia and Lucy and act like all was fine, be their perfect good girl, be whatever they needed or wanted. 

The ball finally made it to your feet, just above the right corner of the penalty box, before you could even look at the goals though, Mapi was edging her feet towards the ball, sending you towards the corner between the baseline and sideline, managing to boot the ball out of bounds. 

You groaned as everybody set up for a corner, slotting yourself into the goals, watching as Robles set up to take the kick, she was searching for you, nestled between Mapi, Sandra and Pina. 

Pina was tugging on your shirt, slowly teetering your off balance and forcing your further forwards then you’d like, closer to the goalpost as every second passed. 

You heard the sound of the ball connecting with Robles foot, all you could do was jump and send your body forward to where the ball was supposed to be heading. 

You closed your eyes and prayed. 

All you felt was an initial contact, it lasted a second at most, the usual length of a header. 

Then you felt your body continuing to propel forwards, and then there was secondary contact. 

This time it was more blunt, harder, more painful, lasting longer, then there was your body thudding against the pitch, your face going down straight into the grass. 

For a few seconds, it was just pure pain, ringing ears, your brain completely unable to process anything more than that. 

It wasn’t until somebody rolled you over and the bright light from the sun started to try and penetrate your eyeballs. 

“Y/n, Y/n, can you hear me?”

You flinched away from the hand that was dusting the turf off of your face, pushing yourself away from whoever was trying to touch you. 

There were more hands though, on your neck and head, preventing you from moving anywhere at all. 

This stressed you out, your ears were still ringing, your head swarming as you tried to focus on the faces hovering above yours. 

“Y/n, keep still, you hit your head pretty hard, nena.”

It’s Mapi’s voice, extra soft and gentle, her head peeking over yours as she pats your hair out of your eyes and the turf off of your face. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

The other people holding your head didn’t give up, holding you still even as you tried to move. 

“Nena, stay, the medics need to check your neck out.”

María’s voice is a little bit sterner, enough for you to let out an annoyed sigh but relax, no longer thrashing against the hands holding your neck and head. 

“Where’s Ale and Luce?”

Your voice is meek and questioning, a little whisper. 

“Lucia is standing a few feet away, Ale is on the sidelines, they’re here for you nena, do you want them?”

Of course you did, they were all you wanted right now, but for whatever reason you shook your head. 

“No, no, no.”

Mapi looked half hurt by your answer, but she didn’t question it. 

“Okay, that’s okay nena, the medics are almost here okay, just stay calm for me.”

Just as the words left María’s mouth a crew of medics were at your side. 

“Hola, how’s your neck and head feeling? You’ve got a nice shiner on your forehead.”

You nodded at the medic, allowing a small smile to fall across your lips. 

“Neck is fine, a little bit stiff, head’s throbbing but it’s fine.”

You knew subconsciously that all of the sub windows for Real had been used, that if you were to leave the pitch your team would be down to ten, and that simply wasn’t an option. 

Barca might have been up by three goals, but there was a part of you that believed that you maybe still had a chance. 

“Okay, well we’re just going to check your neck to be safe, then we’ll concussion test you, sí?”

You shook your head. 

“I’m fine, seriously, it was only a little hit. My head doesn’t even hurt.”

That was a lie, your forehead was throbbing so bad that you were struggling to make out different colours, but there was no way you’d admit that to the team doctor, not if you had any hopes of playing out this match and the ones to come in the next few weeks. 

“Small hit? Your head practically hugged the post.”

That explained the secondary hit. 

“I feel fine, seriously.”

You were doing a piss poor job at trying to be convincing, you knew it, you were fairly sure the medics knew it. 

“We have to clear your c-spine and head for concussion, it’s not up for discussion.”

Your body involuntarily slumped into the turf, as Mapi and whoever else was holding your head moved out of the way for the medics to continue their assessment of you. 

Flash lights shone in your eyes, and your head was tossed in every which way as they assured you that your neck and spine seemed to be intact. 

Once your neck had been checked they allowed you to sit up, painkillers and a drink bottle being forced into your hand. 

“You’ve got a concussion, I’m not sure what stage, you need imaging and a proper examination inside the medical room, you need to come off.”

You shook your head, this was the El Clasico, this was the pinnacle of your season, you weren’t coming off for some collision with a pole. 

“We’re three goals down, I’m not coming off.”

The medic furrowed her brow at you. 

“Two actually, you somehow managed to put the ball in the back of the net, you need to come off.”

Again, you shook your head in complete refusal. 

“Is there a sub window left?”

Your medic bit down on her lip and shook her head, after that your mind was completely made up. 

“So, I’m not going off to leave my team with ten, I’m playing out the next five minutes and stoppage time, I will deal with the repercussions, when we get back to Madrid.”

You didn’t wait for permission, pushed yourself off of the ground, shoving the water bottle into the trainers hands and righting your uniform. 

“Y/n, you need to come off.”

You once again shook your head, sending a thumbs up to the umpire, telling her that you were fine to continue. 

You went back to your position, getting as far away from the yelling from your team doctor. 

Mapi was on your mark, a very concerned look across her face. 

As you took your position beside her, she leant down to whisper in your ear. 

“You should be getting checked out.”

You gritted your teeth, you were so sick of everybody telling you what you were supposed to be doing, what you were supposed to be feeling, it was your call to make, nobody else's. 

“I’m fine.”

The ball kicked off, the sound of the umpires whistle had stars darting across your vision, all of the background noise from the stadium made the pounding in your skull so much worse. 

“That’s bullshit.”

You ran away from María before she had any more of a chance to give her opinion on your current predicament. 

The five minutes were hell, your body was tearing at every seam, the throbbing pain in your head was making it hard for you to breathe, impossible to try and focus on the people around you and where the ball was on the field. 

Mapi was practically dragging you around the field, her hand hovering on your jersey as she directed you around for the last couple of minutes of stoppage time. 

When the final whistle blew, you practically collapsed against your best friend. 

“Hey chica, let’s get you off the pitch, yeah?”

You couldn’t do much more than nod into Mapi’s jersey, allowing her to drag you over to a sideline and into the arms of somebody else, who helped to pull you down into the tunnel and into your locker rooms. 

The Real locker rooms were very quiet, everybody was too bothered in tugging their cleats and kit off as quickly as possible to pay any attention to you, something you were fiercely grateful for. 

You took your time tugging off your uniform, your body slowed down by the blindingly searing headache that was penetrating your head. 

Most of the girls decided against showering in the rooms, there were showers at the hotels and there was an obvious overshadowing feeling that the quicker the girls could leave the stadium, the better. 

You however, were in no rush to leave, so you clawed off your sweaty kit, flinging it into your cubby and then heading towards the showers. 

The hot water against your battered and bruised skin was beautifully painful, it made you feel cleaner, sure your head was pounding but this was like some kind of refuge, at least until Alexia and Lucy came to find you, as soon as that happened you knew you were going to have to put up with two extremely doting and overly-concerned girlfriends. 

You weren’t ready for that, you weren’t ready for the two of them to act like they cared for you, to love you so much for two days all for you to have to leave them once again. 

You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t take up all that love and space all for it to be ripped away, leaving for national camp was hard enough, at least when that happened there was a guarantee you’d see the both of them after it was done. 

You wanted to enjoy their company, how you loved to the most, good, rough, reunion sex. You wanted the two of them to treat you like you were an object, like nothing to them, because that’s how you felt, you felt like just an accessory to their relationship. 

Which was kind of ironic to you, because the relationship had started with just you and Ale, the two of you against the whole world, it was great. Adding Lucy to the equation had been fantastic, she was the missing puzzle piece to every single part of you and Ale’s relationship. 

It just made being apart from the both of them that bit harder when they got to fall into bed with each other every night whilst you were left all alone in your apartment. 

When the boiling water stopped making your skin crawl you stepped out of the shower, drying yourself off procedurally before walking into the empty away rooms and getting yourself changed into a matching plain grey sweatsuit. 

It was neutral, you weren’t going to go home with your Barcelona girlfriends fully kitted in Real hear, but you also didn’t feel up to wearing some of Alexia and Lucy’s clothes, it would break you down well before you were ready for it too. 

Once you were done getting changed you collected up your gear, finally ready to go see Lucy and Alexia, but you were stopped in the doorway by your favourite team doctor. 

“You need scans, and a proper examination.”

You knew theoretically she was right, you did need scans, to make sure that there were no brain bleeds or a significant traumatic injury, but you really didn’t want to either. 

“I’m fine, a big bruise and a concussion but apart from that I’m fine.”

You’d tried your very hardest to cover up the bruise, but it was hopeless. There was a big, red, slowly forming bruise down the left side of your face where you’d made contact with the pole. 

You were honestly unsure so far as to whether your cheek bone or eye socket were broken, they sure felt like they were but you figured at least it wasn’t your nose. You’d dealt with a broken nose and it was probably up there on the list of one of the worst injuries you’d ever dealt with in terms of practicality. 

“You know just as well as I do that you can’t be cleared to leave without an examination.”

You rolled your eyes, an action that hurt a lot more than it probably should have. 

“Maya, c’mon, it’s my few days off, as soon as I’m back in Madrid you can assess me every way you want, but just let me rest for now.”

She didn’t move from the doorway, her stare beating down on you. 

“You’re going to stay with Putellas, sí?”

You nodded your head, trying to hurry the conversation along. 

“I want to speak to her, if you’re going to refuse medical care then the person who you’ll be in company with needs to be aware of the complications that could occur.”

That was almost enough to convince you to get the examination, Alexia was hell when she was aware you were injured, she’d probably make you get the scans and exam. 

“I’ll tell her, it’s not that big of a deal, we both know concussion protocol.”

You were really hoping she’d believe you, but you knew as soon as you saw the look on her face that she could see straight through the lie. 

“If it’s not that big of a deal then you’ll let me accompany you to the Barca rooms and talk to your girlfriend.”

You couldn’t be bothered with the fight, so you just nodded your head, pushing your way through the door and navigating yourself with ease to the home changerooms. 

They were rooms that you were familiar with, you knew Camp Nou like that back of your hand, it was probably your favourite place on earth. 

The atmosphere, the history, everything that resonated in Camp Nou was magical. 

You hesitated before pushing your way through the locker room door, pushing out all of the doubt in your mind when a Rosaliá song hit your ears and the sound of tone deaf singing rang out. 

It was a beautiful sight, watching your ex teammates celebrate a well deserved win, dancing, drinking, singing, it was the magic of the El Clasicó. 

It hurt your head, but it still managed to put a little smile on your face, you shrunk into the doorway, observing the utter excitement and happiness on all of the girls' faces. 

Ingrid was the first to realise you’d joined them all, and before you could even really smile at her she was walking towards you with open arms and wrapping you up in her embrace. 

It was nice, homey, she smelt like sweat, grass clippings and oranges. 

“Hola bebita, how are you feeling?”

Ingrid was probably the best person for you to have initially run into, she was soft and kind and possibly one of the most empathetic and caring people you’d ever met. 

“I’m okay, I miss you guys more than anything.”

Ingrid pulled you out of her arms, only to lean down and press a little chaste kiss to your forehead before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

“You know we will always be your home, and you’ll be back soon enough, this Real thing isn’t for forever, you’ll be back with all of us soon enough.”

Soon enough couldn’t come quicker for you, you quite literally were counting down the days before you were finally back in blaugrana. 

“Yes, well I suppose that is the positive.”

Ingrid nodded at you, a big smile on her face as the both of you watched the group of girls. 

“Ale had to go and deal with some press conference things, Lucy should be just finishing up in the showers if you're ready to go. I know the two of them were eager to head home as soon as you showed up.”

You smiled a little bit and nodded, as fun as the celebrations that you knew would come tonight sounded, you definitely weren’t feeling up to it at the minute. 

“That’s fine, I’ll just wait around until they’re done.”

Ingrid nodded, giving you another smile. 

“You’re welcome to sit wherever you’d like, would you like an ice pack for your face?”

You snorted, looking back at Maya, who already had one in her hands. 

“I think we’re all good on the ice situation here, Maya is hell bent on talking to one of my carers, so she’ll be waiting around with me for now.”

Ingrid looked behind you to wave and flash another smile at your doctor. 

“Good, someone needs to look after you, because we all know that you won’t be doing it. Here’s Lucia now, you won’t have to wait long.”

Your eyes locked onto your girlfriend, who had emerged from the showers, her hair damp on her shoulders. She was dressed in pj pants of all things and one of Alexia’s vintage Barca hoodies. 

Her knee was strapped up and already had an icepack secured to it, something that was routine for Lucy after any game. 

“Lucia, your girl is here for you.”

It was the loud and painful voice of Patri that made you roll your eyes, but sure enough it managed to get ahold of Lucy’s attention, her head rising from her phone and searching for you until she located you in the doorway of the rooms. 

Immediately her face lit up, and she was running towards you as quickly as she could with one of her legs so restricted. 

“Nina Bonita!”

Before you could say anything her arms were wrapping around you, bringing you to her chest as she cradled you gently into her. 

“You were magnifico, mi amor, how’s the head?”

You roll your eyes painfully once again at the concern. 

“It’s okay, nothing that some chill time with my favourite girls won’t fix.”

Lucy smirks at you, a big wide grin like the cheshire cat. 

“Well, I think me and Ale are more than happy to amor, but let’s not forget you’ve been misbehaving the last few weeks.”

This was good, this was normal, this wasn’t life being overshadowed by pity. 

“Y/n, I need to talk to a caregiver.”

You were brought out of your happy bubble by the sound of your medic. 

You swivelled on you heel, pinching your face when the rotation hit you and you began to be a little bit dizzy. 

“Lucy, Maya, Maya, Lucy, this is our team doctor, she wants to chat to you about my head injury, which is not major at all, I feel fine.”

Lucy’s face expression changed into something less recognisable, a mixture of concern and something else. 

“Well if it concerns your health then it’s best we have a chat. How about we talk outside then, stay with Ingrid, we’ll be just a minute and once we’re done we can head home little one.”

Lucy patted you on the back, giving you absolutely zero opportunity to argue before she was exiting the change rooms, taking Maya with her. 

It made you frown, but before you could follow them out one of Ingrid’s arms was wrapped around you, followed by Mapi’s, essentially sandwiching you between the couple. 

“Hola, how’s your head, nena, I was worried for a good second, I’m surprised they didn’t veto you on the head injury rule to get you off the pitch.”

Mapi’s voice was a whisper, hard to pick up in the room of cacophonous sound, but you heard it. 

“It’s sore, but I’ll be okay.”

Mapi whispered directly into your ear, to avoid Ingrid. 

“You’re always okay, nena, that’s the problem, it’s eating you up, before you know everything inside you will be gone.”

You tried your best to keep a straight face, it was hard though when what Mapi was saying to you was making you tremble. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about María.”

She was relentless as always, she was like an annoying younger sister to you, always prodding, even if she was technically older than you. 

“I’ve been where you are, before Ingrid, when I was spiralling, you know it, you saw it all, and now I’m seeing it in you. Telling you from personal experience, hiding from your loved ones only gets you so far, and worrying them only makes it that much worse. Pretending and lying, it only makes everything worse.”

It hurts, because it’s true, but you keep a straight face, determined not to give into Mapi’s games. 

“María, now you’ve actually got no idea what you are talking about.”

Mapi pulls you from Ingrid, who seems a little bit confused but lets it go. 

Mapi pushes you up against the wall gently, right beside the door, her hands pushing on your shoulders to keep you where she's put you. 

“You might be right, I don’t know exactly what’s happening in your life. But I’ve seen the look in your eyes, whatever is going through your head, whatever thoughts your having out there in Madrid, if they aren’t getting back to Ale, then you know you’ll be in trouble, so get your head out of your ass and start to talk about your feelings instead of shoving them down your throat until you are choking on them. That cowboy shit you pulled today to put that ball in the net was stupid, you were asking for a hospital trip, you are lucky you didn’t get stretchered off the pitch, so count your lucky stars because if there is a next time I can guarantee you it will be a far worse outcome.”

Mapi released you from the wall, just in time for the door next to you to open up and Lucy to return inside the rooms. 

“Have you got all your things?”

Lucy’s face was pointed and pinched, and slightly scary. You nodded at her quickly. 

“Wait outside for me, I need to grab my bag.”

It was the kind of voice that Alexia used on you, the mommyish anger that she used when you’d done something to piss her off. 

So, knowing what the most likely consequence of disobeying Lucy would be, you just nodded your head, stepping out of the rooms and finding solace in the silence that hit your ears. 

It made your head hurt far less, the silence highly appreciated inside your brain. 

Lucy took maybe 30 seconds, before she emerged from the rooms, the same solemn look on her face. 

“Let’s go y/n.”

Lucy didn’t refer to you by your name, it was always a variation of some pet name, it burnt you in a way. 

Lucy didn’t wait for you, she marched forward, straight towards the staff car park. 

You struggled to keep up, your sore bones lacking the strength to keep up with her, but you managed well enough. 

When you made it to Lucy’s car she was already seated in the driver's seat, leaving you to sling your bag in the backseat before sliding into the passenger's seat. 

Lucy stayed silent until the two of you had pulled out onto the main road, until you made it to a red light, and then she was turning to you. 

“You didn’t get examined, or scans, we should be going to a hospital, can you imagine what Alexia would say if she knew?”

You’d known this was inevitably coming, you’d just expected it to come from Alexia, not Lucy. 

“Please, don’t tell Ale, she’s mad enough as it is, I feel fine, if I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that it was just a minor concussion I would get the mri or whatever, but they take hours, and then hours to get the result, all I wanted was too come home to you and Ale as soon as possible, I miss you guys.”

Lucy took a deep breath, this situation was no different to all the other times you’d had to convince her to join in on your plans to disobey Alexia. 

“You put yourself in danger, Ale would be furious.”

It’s a deliberation, like Lucy is trying to weigh up the pros and cons in her mind. 

“Exactly, she would be furious, which will do nothing, I’ve already made the decision, if anything feels wrong I’ll let you know, but I feel fine Luce, all I want to do is get what I’m owed from my girlfriends and enjoy you guys’ company whilst I can.”

You know Lucy’s folded when she sighs, her eyes coming off of the road once again, the orbs softening towards you. 

“Alexia’s furious, those little videos and photos have got you deep in the shit, the only thing that’s saving you from that is admitting you're injured. You might be good enough to pretend with me but I know that head of yours can’t handle what she’s ready to give you.”

You knew that Lucy was right, it was one or the other with Alexia. 

“I’m not weak, I knew what I was doing, I can deal with the consequences.”

Your words are said with gritted teeth and furrowed brows. 

“You're a determined little brat aren’t you, if I didn’t know you well I’d think you were fine, but you aren’t, if you were fine you wouldn’t be acting out at every opportunity you could.”

The underlying message is that Lucy isn’t just talking about your injury, which makes you annoyed, because you’d been trying so hard to mask it with defiance and cheekiness, but Lucy’s seen through it, which most likely means that Ale has as well. 

“Can’t you just punish me without all the feelings and shit.”

You’re asking for a reprieve, for a break from all of the concern, all you want is to fall into the arms of your girlfriends without any feelings. 

“I would love to, but that’s Ale’s job, I just get to sit back and enjoy the show.” 

You bite your lip, turning to look out the window as you slowly crawl closer to your girlfriend's shared house, previously it was yours as well, but not anymore. 

“Where is Ale anyways, didn’t you drive together?”

It’s a deflection, one you are fairly proud of. 

“She had some media commitments, she should be home by the time we get there, we drove in by ourselves for convenience.”

It’s said just as you pull into the driveway to see Alexia’s car already parked in front of the house. 

Lucy stops the car, but she doesn’t pull the keys out immediately, just turning off the ignition. 

“Take a breath.”

You nod at Lucy, eyes wide as you take a forced breath. 

“Alexia and I love you, when you are away we miss you more than anything, it’s not the same without you around. If you are feeling like shit because you are injured we want to know, and we won’t be mad at you, I know for a fact that Alexia will be far angrier if you lie to her about it.”

You nodded briefly, trying to absorb Lucy’s words before you opened the car door and grabbed your bag from the backseat. 

When you made it to the front door you hesitated before opening it up, leaving Lucy to lock it behind you. 

You toed your shoes off, stacking them on the rack that Alexia had put at the front door to prevent the mess of shoes that normally accumulated around the apartment. 

You walked slowly down the hallway, into the kitchen, where you found Alexia hunched over the island, looking intently at her phone. 

“Hola.”

Your voice is soft, you don’t want to break the sound barrier but you feel like you have to. 

Alexia looks up and her facial expression scares you a little bit, it’s stern, but you aren’t quite sure what she’s mad about. 

“Come here.”

You bite down on your lip, walking towards Alexia tentatively until you are directly in front of her. 

Her hands go straight to your face, pointing your jaw downwards so she can take a proper look at the damage across your face. 

“You were looking to break your neck on that corner, estúpida.”

Alexia continues her close up examination, studying the bruising and swelling. 

“How bad is it, don’t you dare lie to me.”

Alexia’s face is so stern, it almost scares you into admitting just how horrible you feel, but you can’t, you just can’t.

“It’s sore, but I feel fine, it’ll bruise up a treat but it’s not that bad.”

You pray to whatever god that is listening that Alexia believes you. 

“You feel good enough to take your punishment then?”

There’s something in Alexia’s eyes that you aren’t used to, it makes you a little bit tentative. 

“Yes ma’am.”

Alexia’s eyebrow raises, it’s like a dance between the two of you, the both of you waiting to call each other's bluff. 

“You’ve been misbehaving, sí, I think you’re well overdue, bend over the table for me.”

You force yourself to take a deep breath, it’s unlike Alexia to be so harsh, to be so forward, especially considering that you’ve been gone for so long. 

You look back at Lucy, a little bit of hope in your eyes that she’ll save you with some weak excuse. 

“Ale, I don’t know if that’s a good id-.”

Alexia sent a glare Lucy’s way, her hand pressing itself against your lower back to push you over the table. 

“She says she’s fine, if she wasn’t fine then she’d tell me, right bebita, because we trust each other. We don’t lie to each other.”

Suddenly you feel a wave of guilt deep in your stomach, Alexia knows you’ve lied to her, that’s why she’s mad. 

“Lucia, go and get my belt for me, the thick brown one.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you’ve heard Alexia right, you’ve played around with a belt once or twice, but it’s not something that Alexia regularly punishes you with, more something for a little bit of funishment, a few lashes here and there but nothing truly painful. 

“Alexia-.”

Alexia must give Lucy another look because she stops mid sentence once again. 

“Lucia, don’t make me ask again, or else you’ll be joining her.”

Then there's the sound of footsteps going down the hallway, into the main bedroom, rustling around for ten seconds and then returning. 

You flinch when you hear the sound of Alexia tossing a belt in her hands, the sound of the buckle clinking against the leather. 

She reaches for the hem of your sweatpants, you flinch away from her touch, she doesn’t question it, making quick work of tugging down your pants, leaving you butt naked. 

You shiver from the sudden feeling of cold air brushing down against your skin. 

You hear Alexia fold the belt in two, your senses heightened weirdly from the headache across your temple. 

Then you hear her raise the leather, and suddenly you realise you can’t breathe. 

Just as you hear the sound of leather slicing through the air you realise that you can’t do it, you can’t do this. 

“Red-fuck-red.”

The words are choken between gasps for air and sobs, your body going limp against the counter. 

It’s then that you realise the pain, the feeling, it never comes, the feeling of the belt connecting with your ass never comes, which makes you even more confused. 

“Lucia, bath, now.”

There is urgency in Alexia’s voice, a discomposure that wasn’t there previously. 

Alexia’s hand falls to the lowest point of your back, her other one tugging your sweatpants up. 

“Deep breaths for me nina bonita, big deep breaths.”

Alexia gently flips you over, her face so much kinder and softer than it was a few minutes ago. 

“You-You didn’t hit me, you didn’t punish me.”

Alexia rolls her eyes softly, it’s just like you to be completely stressed out about something that doesn’t really matter that much really. 

“I didn’t need to. You safeworded, which I’m very proud of you for doing, because you weren’t feeling up to it, I just needed to remind you that it’s okay to admit that, you don’t have to be brave all the time, especially when you are injured, now, it’s time to get you into the bath and bed, no screens or lights for you, you’re on concussion protocol for the next few weeks, which means that if I can have it my way you’ll be staying with us for a little bit longer, how does that sound?”

You force yourself to take some deep breaths to calm yourself, you're still crying but the gut wrenching sobs have come to a more steady halt. 

“Don’t want to be a bother, you guys need a break from me.”

Alexia looks at you with hurt in her eyes.

“A bother? Bonita, you are the glue for this whole situation. We need you here, more than anything, we’ve been broken without you here, if I had it my way you would have been on a train home weeks ago, but Jonatan is being an asshole, that cábron will thankfully be gone next year, so at least you’ll be coming home without having to bother with that, hm?”

You don’t really understand what Alexia is saying, suddenly your head is hurting too much for anything to really make sense. 

Alexia seems to understand it, because she leans down to pick you up, you attach yourself to her, koala wrapping yourself around her body, leaning into the warmth that she provides. 

“I’ve got you bonita, not letting go for a long time, you need Lucia and I to remind you just how much we love you, and we’ll spend the next few weeks doing just that okay, no more hiding behind facetime calls and text messages anymore, we’re here for all of it.”

[emmie-tt]

Can you write a harry potter x reader where the reader is harry gf and she got kidnapped into the malfoy Manor (in dh) and when Harry, Ron and hermione got captured there too, he finds her and he take her back to fleur and Bill cottage and he takes care of her because she got injured really bad while being there? <3 (also her having a lot of scars/marks and being insecure about them but harry will kiss them all and tell her they are perfect) and one night when she finally Trys to leave the bed (because her legs are really shaky) they go out and stay in front of the sea and they talk about their future? Sorry this is long hope you can make it <3

My Protector

Harry Potter x Reader

CW: Angst (Kinda) , Mental Problems, Mentions of blood and wounds, Mentions of Scars, Female Reader

How did you get here...As you lay on the cold hard ground of the Malfoy Manor your whole life flashes in front of your eyes. You had always been the quiet kid. Never causing drama. Never getting involved in drama. Never acting out. Hardly ever going to parties unless Harry had went with you.

Speaking of. Harry had been frantically searching for you, the moment he realized you were missing it felt like hi whole world stopped.

You didn't know that though. Not yet at least.

The lightheaded feeling began a few minutes ago. Whether it was from blood loss or dehydration was also unknown. You did know that it had been three days since you've had water and you also knew that gash in your forehead had been left unattended for quite a few hours so whichever was causing the lightheaded feeling was anyone's guess.

You heard a gasp from Luna Lovegood who was also being held captive but instead of reacting you ignored it choosing to focus on not passing out and praying to Godricks that someone helped and got you out of here...

The feeling of someones hands on your face brought you out of your haze and suddenly a fuzzy yet familiar voice was cutting through the silence

"Y/n...Y/n can you hear me?"

As your vision comes into focus your eyes widen as you realize who was knelt next to you.

"Harry..." you mumble as you weakly reach up and cup his face

He smiles weakly back, seeing you in so much pain and honestly so close to death...

"Hi sweetheart...I'm gonna get you out of here okay? Get you some help, alright?"

you nod slight and he slides one arm under your knees and the other under your upper torso. Picking you up bridal style he quickly makes his way out the things he noticed about the woman he loved more than anything was how much weight you had loss, the blood dripping down his arm from your forehead and that dazed almost lifeless look in your eyes.

He picks up the pace in his steps and as soon as the coast was clear he held you closer and floo you both off to the cottage.

------ At The Cottage ------

Harry quickly sat you down on the couch, the dizziness had took over and you had loss consciousness a few minutes prior. Molly gasps as she rushes over and helps Harry lay you on the couch.

She asses the wound on your head before quickly jumping into action and cleaning then stitching the rather deep wound

Harry stood at the end of the couch the whole time. His eyes never once leaving you as he watched Molly clean the wound and stitch you up.

He felt completely guilty for this whole thing, he had promised from the day he met you to protect you. You were nothing more than a ray of sunshine in his extremely dark life, the reason he lived was you and seeing you lay on the couch unconscious and injured absolutely broke him. He could not loose anyone else.

After Molly was finished she stepped back and walked over to Harry wrapping her arms around him in a tight motherly hug.

"She will be alright..." she mumbles softly into his hair as he begins to sob.

------ A Little While Later ------

Harry had fallen asleep sat on the floor next to the couch where you had been laid. His head rested uncomfortably on the edge as his hand gripped onto yours tightly. His whole body reacts when he feels you hand twitch slightly. His hands snap open and he quickly looks up at you right when your eyes slowly flutter open.

"Y-Y/n? Sweetheart, are you awake?" You groan softly as you reach up and feel at the now bandaged wound. Harry gently grabs your hand and pulls it back down, planting a soft kiss on your palm as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey...You're alright love...I'm right here..." He whisper softly as tears flood your eyes

"Harry..."

He stares at you sympathetically for a moment before, gently as possible, lifting you into his arms and holding you close to his chest. His hands rubbing up and down your back slowly as you sob into his shoulder where your head is resting.

He feels his own tears rise but he chokes them down to comfort you, something he knew you needed.

After a long few minutes you calm down and slowly sit up, ignoring the pounding that happens in your head at the movement. You hands wrap tightly around him and you stare down at him silently as he stares back before gently kissing your forehead leading you to let out a sigh and lay your head back down on his shoulder.

Harry noticed the shift in your personality. The silence that used to be replaced with constant chatter about things only Hermione could truly understand. The fear in your eyes that used to be full of light and shine. He noticed it all and it killed him...

"My love...Lets get you some food alright? And maybe some orange juice?"

He waits for your reply and when you nod he immediately stands with you in his arms and makes his way into the kitchen where he goes to place you in a chair only to be stopped when you tighten your grip and mutter out a soft "No..."

He stops in his tracks and stands back up with you in his arms, glancing down at your face

"No what love? You don't want me to put you down?" When you nod, confirming his question he sighs softly but obeys your wish and walks over to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of orange juice that he pours into a cup and hands to you. As you sip at the juice he quickly makes a sandwich before taking a seat at the dining table and slowly feeds you the sandwich.

When you finish it a few minutes later he lets you finish the orange juice before standing and placing the dishes in the sink, letting the magic do its thing and clean the dishes, Harry makes his way down a hall and into the room Bill had given him to stay in.

He gently lays you down in the bed causing you to let out a soft whimper, he gently kisses your forehead

"Shh sweetheart, i'm right here...Let me get you some clean clothes okay?"

You hesitantly nod and he rushes off into the closet where he grabs an old shirt of his and a random pair of boxers before quickly making his way back to you where he finds you crying.

The guilt in his gut only grows and he walks over gently rubbing your back, you climb into his lap and he instantly lets you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking you gently as you sob.

Once you calm down he coaxes you off of him for just long enough to get you bathed and changed into the outfit before helping you into bed where he climbs in after you, letting you lay on top of him- rather uncomfortably, before holding you close as you fall asleep a few moments later.

And that is how most days go...

A few weeks passed and your physical condition had improved, the gash had almost completely healed, leaving a scar. All the bruises had faded and the small cuts had healed leaving their own small scars across your body.

Your mental health was another thing...While it hadn't worsened it really hadn't improved either...Harry could finally leave you alone but not for to long, you refused to leave the bed and talking still came very rarely for you.

Harry had left the room a few moment ago, to do something...He had said but truly you hadn't been listening.

Looking around the room your eyes land on the mirror hung on the wall, more specifically the reflection in the mirror. As you stared down your own reflection, seeing the large scar across your forehead caused disgust to rush over you in waves.

You slowly sit up in the bed letting the blanket fall to your waist, being in only your bra, all of the small scars that now littered your body were on full display. Your hands slowly ran over each of them, picking and pulling at them almost as if you were trying to get them off of you.

You were so lost in your own world that you didn't notice harry stepping into the room until you saw him in the mirror causing you to jump.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" He asks softly as he climbs onto the bed and wraps his arms around your waist after gently grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your skin

"N-Nothing..."

He clearly didn't believe you but instead of saying anything he gently pushed you back onto the bed and yanked the blanket off of you completely causing you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "H-Harry! What are you doing?!"

He shrugs slightly as he leans down and kisses your forehead, right on the scar. "So pretty..."

Your whole body heats up as he leans down to your stomach area and presses soft kisses to each scar he could see as he mumbles praises.

"Beautiful..."

"Gorgeous..."

"Pretty..."

Any praise he could think of was flying out of his lips as he worshiped you, your face was the so ho from being so flustered that you couldn't stand it. This was exactly what you needed...That disgusted feeling melted away with every kiss and praise he gave you.

After a moment he looks back up at you, his glasses sat on the tip of his nose almost falling off. You giggle softly pushing his glasses back up his face, a smile appearing on your face for the first time in weeks.

Harry grins and moves up peppering kisses all over your face causing the small giggles to grow even more as you gently push him away

"My sweet girl" He says softly "Wanna take a walk with me? You seem in a good mood..."

You think for a long moment about the offer before ultimately nodding and slowly pulling yourself from the bed and into a standing position.

Harry smiles quickly following you out of the bed and helping you put your shoes on before putting his own on and leading you out of the cottage, the sun hitting your skin for the first time in weeks was an amazing feeling. You soaked it in for a moment before walking down the beach towards the water where you stop at the shore line letting the water wash over your sandal covered feet.

Harry slowly approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder as he gazes down on your face as you gaze out at the water

"What are you thinking about honey?"

You stay silent for a moment before leaning back against him "Our future..."

"Oh yeah? What about it?"

"I don't know...Just how- how everything is gonna end...With the war, the death eaters...he who should not be names..."

He sighs softly and kisses your cheek, before being taken you had no problem calling him Voldemort but now you were terrified..

"Nothing will happen to you again...Me, Ron and Hermione have a plane okay? Please don't worry about it..."

With a small nod you turn around in his arms and snuggle your face against his chest "How many kids do you want..?"

He looks down slightly shocked at your question before thinking for a moment "Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me...As long as I have you that's all that matters...What about you baby? How many?"

"Three...Two boys and a girl..."

He chuckles, your answer was instant with absolutely not hesitation behind it. "I'll do my best to help fulfill that dream my love..."

You giggle and slowly close your eyes as you rest against him. It finally felt like you could see a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. He had been everything you needed to get through such a rough time. Your love. Your support but most importantly your protector.

THE END

Oh. My. Goodness. I think this is my best work yet, I hope this is up to your expectations love!! And I am so so sorry it took so long to get this out there!!

[theonotti]

MIO | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Voldemort won. Harry Potter is dead. But the Order of the Phoenix is still fighting, with two surprising allies who have very different reasons for aiding their cause.

Warnings: Pretty angsty. AU where Voldemort did not die at the end of DH.

Notes: This is heavily inspired by Secrets & Masks and Manacled. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

That Final Night One Shot

Late.

They’re fucking late.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Theo looks down at his watch. 

Twenty minutes late, to be exact.

“How long are we expected to wait here?” Mattheo growls, pacing across the wood of the decrepit bar. The floorboards creak with every step. Theo is sitting at one of the tables, a sigh forcing its way out of his lungs as he watches his friend. In one hand is a cigarette, the other hand mindlessly tracing the vandalism that had been scratched into the top of the table. 

“Another ten minutes and then we’re fucking off.”

The bar has been long abandoned, making it their top choice for discreet meetings. They had cycled through a few different locations before they finally found the bar. The walls are a sloppy black color, which is mostly covered in 80’s posters, both movies and musical talents alike. Theo’s eyes drift from poster to poster. He’s seen them what feels like a thousand times, and yet he still finds it hard to tear his eyes away when he stares at them. 

An hour has already passed since their arrival, but that was due to the ungodly amount of wards and disillusionment charms that they needed to cast before the meeting, a ritual that has become quite routine. Once everything is set, they’ll briefly discuss what they’ll say, and then they wait. Theo finds the extra waiting time peaceful, usually. It gives him a chance to mentally prepare for the carnage that comes to his psyche afterwards. The guilt. The fear. But this time, the stakes are higher, increasing the tension in his muscles much too soon. He can feel the pain already in his lower back, and he doesn’t want to imagine the aches he’ll be feeling once he returns home. 

“Can’t we just kill them?” 

Theo considers this question as he lets his eyes jump back to Mattheo.

“That would probably defeat the purpose of why we’re here.”

“Sure, but I still hate Weasley and his stupid face. Just one Cruciatus curse at his ugly face would be okay, surely. I won’t even make it a long one. Four minutes tops.”

Theo boredly watches the smoke from his cigarette float up towards the ceiling as he ignores Mattheo. Every moment that passes increases his irritation. He finds himself wondering if it’s a power move on their part. They hold all the cards, so they can keep him waiting. 

Something in the air triggers, both men looking towards the door. Theo’s fingers tense around the cigarette as he brings it to his mouth to take another drag, his other hand dropping down from the table to clench around his wand as it rests on his lap. The dimly lit room has a smoky haze, all thanks to Mattheo and Theo disregarding the “No Smoking Allowed” sign that is appropriately starting to fall off the wall.

The door opens, Ron Weasley followed by Hermione Granger walking in. Theo has long lost count of how many times they’ve met with Granger and Weasley, yet it still feels jarring every time he sees them. Maybe it’s because their appearance catches him off guard each time.

Despite them all being in their mid twenties, they all look tired and worn. The rosey cheeks that Granger sported while they were in school are now gaunt and hollow. Dark circles are painted under her eyes, along with Weasley’s, and she keeps her bushy hair contained in two french braids going down her back. Weasley keeps his hair short now, and his body is more built than it had ever been when they were at Hogwarts. His boy-like features are long gone, with gray already peppering his ginger hair, and if Theo didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that Weasley was in his late thirties at the least. The life in their eyes had long drained out, replaced with a coldness that chilled anyone who happened to be stuck in their gaze.

War hadn’t been kind to Theo or Mattheo either.

Mattheo has more scars on his face than he did back in school, and he grew his hair long in a feeble attempt to hide them. There was a time that he wore them like a badge of honor, but since the start of the war and his PTSD becoming worse than ever, they no longer were something he pretended to be proud of. He’s since developed an anxiety twitch, his whole face seeming to spasm whenever there’s a loud noise not caused by him, or tense moment. Though they don’t live together anymore, now that Theo has full ownership of Nott Manor, when they had, Theo could remember all the nights of hearing his best friend scream and cry in his sleep from across the mansion. It was more often than not, and it was unbearably hard to get Mattheo to calm down from the vivacious nightmares.

The opposite could be said for Theo. Instead of nights filled with intense dreams of death and melancholy, Theo simply doesn’t sleep. He couldn’t, for the life of him, shut his brain off. And while that had always been an issue for him to some degree, it had become exacerbated since his transition from student to soldier. Theo doesn’t know what being tired feels like anymore. It’s so ingrained in his psyche that it would be more abnormal for him to not be tired. All he can do is adjust, living off coffee and the occasional upper to keep him moving.

Weasley leans on the wall beside the door. His demeanor is much more unpleasant than normal as his eyes flit between Theo and Mattheo. Theo pretends not to notice as he looks at Granger, who’s standing in the middle of the room. She always did all the talking. Theo assumes it’s because of the way she carries herself, and they certainly take her more seriously than they could any Weasley. Besides being a fighter for the Order of the Phoenix, Granger is a war negotiator. She deals with prisoner exchanges and, eventually, peace talks. Although, considering it’s been seven years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Theo is less confident of the possibility of any sort of peace treaty happening any time soon. For the entire duration of the war, it was her that Theo dealt with when it came to these sorts of things, before and after their betrayal. 

She clears her throat.

“What information do you have for us?”

The strain in her voice is lost on no one. The tension in the air is so thick, Theo is convinced he could grab it if he tried.

Mattheo stops his pacing, turning to face her full on. His anger is palpable.

“Stop with the bullshit,” He snaps. “Let’s talk about why we’re really here today.”

Weasley’s hand tightens around his wand, but he doesn’t move. Theo keeps his eyes on him to ensure it stays that way before turning back to Granger. 

“You have Malfoy.” Theo’s voice is quiet, tone neutral.

The corners of her mouth twitch upward.

“We have Malfoy.”

Mattheo lets out a frustrated sigh.

“We can’t continue to cooperate with you until you hand him back.”

Granger’s expression doesn’t change, making it clear that this reaction was expected. 

“He’s quite the bargaining tool. What are you willing to give for him?” A beat passes. “Or I guess I should say, who?”

Mattheo turns to look at Theo, who can tell just by that exchange of a glance that his friend’s patience is wearing horrifically thin.

“We can ensure the release of Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan. And we’re prepared to give you the maps of the hidden prisons in Sussex.” Theo conveniently forgets to mention that they were already planning to give them the maps, regardless of the way things went at this meeting.

Granger turns to look at Weasley, who merely raises his eyebrows, before turning back to Theo.

“He’s Draco Malfoy.” 

Theo’s hand curls tighter around his wand.

Mattheo huffs loudly, throwing his hand down and smacking it on the bar top. The sound is so loud that Granger flinches, and Weasley pushes off the wall suddenly, but doesn’t move forward.

“You know bloody well that our heads will be on a fucking spike if we don’t get him back,” He hisses at them. “Then who will aid your bloody Order? You think there’s anyone else who will risk their necks like we have? Honestly?”

“Regardless of your help to the Order, do you really think we can just hand Voldemort back one of his best fighters?” Granger's voice raises just a touch. Mattheo takes a step towards her.

“You’ll be singing a different fucking tune when we’re dead and you realize the next on the list is you. You’re losing the goddamn war. Biblically. You need us. Alive.”

Theo waits for Mattheo to finish his outburst before he turns his attention back to Granger. He knows where this is going.

Fuck, he knows where this is going. 

“What else do you want, then?”

Theo’s hands tremble slightly. He clenches his right fist around his wand even more, the left bringing the cigarette back to his mouth quickly. 

Mattheo shakes his head, turning away as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it with his want.

Granger tilts her head as she looks at Theo, her expression shifting to a tired one, as if the answer is obvious. When she speaks again, her voice is just above a whisper.

“You know who we want, Nott. It’s been almost a year.”

Theo’s nostrils flare.

“Not on the table.”

~

Suffice to say, the raid couldn’t have possibly gone worse.

How the Order could’ve been so prepared for them was beyond Theo.

One minute, everything seemed to be going to plan as Theo, Mattheo, Malfoy, Blaise and a few others sauntered into the safe house. Quick in and out. Nothing too complicated. The next, it was like the floor fell out from under their feet.

How did things get so royally fucked up?

Theo woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, covered in a layer of sweat as his eyes darted around the room. It took him a minute to get reoriented, and only then did he realize that he was in his own living room, laid on the couch with a blanket draped over him. Ripping the blanket off, his hands flew towards his abdomen. When he looked down, he found he was shirtless, but his skin was unharmed, save for some minor scarring. New editions to the collection. He then reached up and touched the top of his head. Nothing. Not even a scrape.

What?

Slowly, he kicked his feet over the side of the couch and stood up. The room spun for a moment, and his joints ached, but otherwise, he was completely normal. 

The manor was silent. So silent that it made the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stand up. Almost automatically, he walked across the floor, his bare feet cold against the hardwood. He tried to keep his footfall soft as he continued listening for any sort of sound. There, in the faint distance, he could hear… something. Grabbing a hoodie off the back of a chair, he slipped it over his bare torso and zipped it up halfway before making his way towards the sound. 

Theo stepped into the kitchen. A flash of movement came from the other slide of the sliding door that leads to the courtyard. His hand instinctively went to grab his wand from his pocket, only for him to realize it wasn’t there. At the same moment, he also realized the person outside was Mattheo, having a smoke. His tense fingers relaxed, his arm falling back to his side.

Mattheo looked over as Theo slid the door open and walked out. 

“Look who’s awake. How’re you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Who healed me?”

Mattheo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“You wound me, Nott. You don’t think I’m capable?”

Theo shook his head almost immediately.

“It’s not as… clean when you do it. And I have the scars to prove it.” He pointed to his back, which was covered in scars thanks to a nasty run in with a car, a Bombarda cast, and Mattheo’s lack of concern to learn basic field emergency spell casting.

Mattheo sighed in resignation before saying, “You’re right. It wasn’t me.”

Theo waited for Mattheo to give elaboration, and when one wasn't given, he could feel his fingers curl into fists. Though Mattheo’s face was neutral, the tension radiating off his body could be felt a kilometer away.

“What did you do?”

Mattheo took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils before turning back to Theo.

“Theo…”

“What did you do, Riddle?”

Swallowing hard, Mattheo looked away from Theo.

“We got their best healer.” 

Theo blinked. A hostage?

“You took someone?” He asked, voice low. “That… that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Not that things ever went to plan. And not that they hadn’t ever deviated so far left and forced them to take hostages before. But there was something about the way Mattheo couldn’t look at him that made Theo’s fingers run cold. 

Mattheo shook his head as he took a seat on one of the lounge chairs. He let his head fall to his chest, as if it were too heavy to hold up anymore. “That wall fell on you. You were going to die, Theo. We needed…” He inhaled sharply before looking up again. “It was beyond us. We needed the help. We needed her.” 

Theo wracked his brain. The Order’s best healer? The Order’s best healer. Why does this mean something to him?

“Who is it?”

Mattheo leaned backwards in the seat so his back laid against the chair before he pointed at Theo, as if he was preemptively defending himself.

“You’re going to thank me. You’ll be pissed. But you’re going to thank me, ultimately.”

Theo’s nose twitched.

“Mattheo… who is it?”

Mattheo nodded back towards the house before vaguely replying, “She’s upstairs, in the North wing.”

Theo’s feet didn’t move, stuck to the floor like ice. His mind was running, a plethora of questions all begging to be answered. But his mouth forgot how to work as well. For a moment, all he was able to do was stare at Mattheo, who stared back briefly before nodding towards the house again.

“Go on.” His voice was soft.

Theo’s feet kicked on again, taking him back into the house as if they were on autopilot. 

Why the hell are you so nervous? You don’t even know who it is.

His wand was laying on the end table next to the staircase, which he grabbed and shoved in his pocket. His knees buckled as he walked up the stairs. Distantly, he could hear the sound of yelling and objects being thrown around. It didn’t take him long to figure out which closed door the sounds were coming from the other side of. He stood outside the black wooden door, listening. Trying to maybe discern who it was before he went in. 

He could just make out the wards that had been placed on the door. Laying a hand on the knob, he was relieved to find that he was able to touch the brass of the handle. Mattheo had been known to incorrectly cast the spell so no one could get through, which had more than once sent Theo or Malfoy through a wall. 

A shaky sigh pushing its way from Theo’s lungs and out of his mouth, he turned the knob and let himself inside the room. 

The color drained from Theo’s face.

Standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving and anger radiating off of like a stove top, was you. 

Suddenly, Theo was back at Hogwarts, standing in the Astronomy Tower. You were no longer in your casual shirt and jeans, but instead, in your Hufflepuff robes as you looked at him and told him you were leaving to join the Order.

“This war is above us, Theo. Dumbledore is dead. Harry Potter is dead. I can’t stand idly by and watch people die. I need to do something.” 

“Yeah? And what about me?”

“You could come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And you know I can’t stay.”

The memory hit Theo like a train. His breath hitched in his throat.

You turned to face him, freezing in the headlights of his gaze. The way your fury faltered at the sight of him made it clear that you were having the same out of body experience that he was. 

You certainly had been busy. All of the furniture in the room was broken. The night stand had been thrown against the pewter colored wall, leaving a dent in the dry wall and the wooden pieces scattered across the floor. A picture frame that Theo hung and forgot about was in ruins, the brunette girl in the picture cowering in the corner of the shredded pieces of photo paper. Feathers from the pillows littered the carpet. The mattress had been thrown off the bed frame, which was also now broken. 

Though he couldn’t focus on the damage that had been done to his guest room. He was too busy staring at you with the same confounded look he’d had when he first entered the room. 

Your hair was longer than he remembered it, pulled back so it was out of your face. Your features had grown with you, your cheekbones more prominent, your eyes with more bags, your cheeks with less color. There wasn’t a corner of Theo’s world that wasn’t burdened by war, and, unfortunately, that included you. His heart raced in his chest as he looked at you. He had locked the memory of you deep into the catacombs of his brain, not allowing himself to bring them out for any occasion. There wasn’t the time or need for it. This is war. When is there a moment for reminiscing on the worst day of his life?

But now there you were, standing in front of him, with a dumbfoundedly angry look on your face, casual clothes and longer hair. The flood gates were now opened, and he was overwhelmed with memories of you, running through his mind so quickly that he felt like he was spinning. 

Your eyes still twinkled in the light that streamed in through the curtains.

“You tell Mattheo Riddle that he can give me back my wand and we’ll see then if he’s able to force me into this room again.”

Theo flinched.

The sound of your voice alone made him feel the need to have a complete mental breakdown. You could’ve been cursing him out or singing in German and he would still feel the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball on the floor. Even with your anger, it still felt like a sweet symphony to Theo’s ears. 

He never thought he’d hear the sound again. 

Hell, he never thought he’d see you again.

Realizing you had spoken and he was just staring at you like an imbecile, he cleared his throat.

“You healed me.”

Your expression shifted, an emotion crossing your face that Theo couldn’t read. Standing a little straighter, you nodded.

“I’m a healer,” You said slowly, distantly. “It’s what I do.”

He snorted. That bleeding Hufflepuff heart.

“You could’ve let me die,” He pointed out, cocking his head to the side. 

You seemed to consider this briefly before saying, “In theory, yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you, coupled with the unmitigated tension. Theo’s hands were curled at his sides, not from anger, but to stop himself from giving into the inordinate compulsion to reach out and touch you. To prove to himself that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. That you were actually in front of him. You shifted your weight to your other foot.

“I don’t think I really could’ve, even if I wanted to.”

The words unsaid in this moment would keep Theo up at night for weeks.

Your eyes trailed down his body, studying him, taking in his bare chest underneath the hoodie. He swallowed hard, his body seeming to freeze under your gaze. Maybe he should’ve changed before coming into the room. At least maybe thrown on a proper shirt. He’d never had a hostage in his home before. There was no protocol book on the proper etiquette. 

Especially not when the hostage was his ex-girlfriend who’s now working on the opposite side of the war. 

You let out a strangled sigh.

“You have to let me go back, Theo. They need me. No one is trained on some of the things I am.” 

The shake of his head was immediate.

“You can’t even begin to comprehend what he would do if he found out Mattheo and I had you and then just let you go back,” He said in a strained yet soft voice. “I can’t. We can’t.”

Your nose twitched as you closed your eyes.

“I won’t fucking heal for him,” You declared in a low tone. “I’d rather be strung up in Godric’s Hollow to rot like all the other people he’s executed than heal for him.”

Theo tried to be rational as he considered what to do. There was a tug of war in his mind, his loyalties competing to decide the best course of action. The obvious answer was to turn you over to The Dark Lord, where you would be put on trial for the crimes he deemed you guilty of, and then punished accordingly. With the skills you hold, Theo knew that you would more than likely be put under the Imperius curse and forced to act as a healer for the Death Eaters. 

Though the answer was obvious, that didn’t make it correct. Not to him or to anyone else.

Theo knew. He knew you’d rather die than breathe the same air as the Death Eaters, let alone fix their wounds and send them back out to kill your people. His head throbbed as he tried to think of the best direction to go in. 

Because, in his head, letting you go was simply out of the question. 

~

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” Granger asks. “We have something you want, you have something we want. We exchange.”

Theo shakes his head as he smashes the end of his half smoked cigarette on the top of the table.

“She’s not for trade.”

“Well, she’s what we want.”

A bead of sweat trails down the side of his face. He ignores it.

“She’s nowhere close to being worth the same as Draco Malfoy. This isn’t a fair trade.” He means it, but not in the way that he presented it to them. Nothing they could offer would make it a fair trade in Theo’s eyes. They could offer the end of the war. They could offer his freedom from the Death Eaters. They could offer endless riches, or immortality, or anything else he could possibly dream up. None of it would equate.

“Then we’ll gladly take Luna and Seamus back as well,” Granger says through clenched teeth, expression reading that her patience is wearing thin. “To make up the difference.”

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but Mattheo cuts in before he gets the chance.

“You’ll take what we fucking give you.”

Granger shoots him a dagger filled glare. 

“We can no longer afford to play these games with you. You have our best healer. And we need her back.” She rolls her head before her eyes fall back on Theo. “We have been patient. We have accepted that we had nothing worth trading for her. Now we do. Malfoy’s importance to the Death Eaters is well known. Don’t patronize us by pretending we don’t have the upper hand here.”

A chill runs through Theo’s spine.

She’s right.

God dammit, she’s right.

Theo runs a hand through his messy hair, the most he’s moved since he sat down. His brain scrambles to come up with something, anything, that he can offer to remedy this. There has to be something of equal value. There has to be something he can give that would make them decide to let you stay. 

“Before you try to come up with some feeble offer, know that we won’t be backing down from this,” Granger says as if she’s reading Theo’s mind. “You won’t be getting Draco Malfoy back unless we get her, regardless of what else you give. She’s the only card you have that could get him back.”

Theo’s eyes snap back to Granger, the anger boiling in his chest.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” He repeats her words back to her. She smiles at him, but the gesture does not reach her eyes.

“Maybe negotiation is the wrong word for it.” She hums thoughtfully. “It’s more like a plea deal. Take it or leave it.”

~

“You’re up late.”

Theo jumped at the sound of your voice as he quickly flicked the light on.

He didn’t expect to find you in his kitchen, sitting cross legged on the island counter with the lights off. A bowl of what he could only assume was cereal was in your hands.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“It’s four in the morning.”

You glanced up at the clock as well, before shrugging. 

“Fine, you’re up early.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Theo’s mouth. 

He could feel you studying him as you brought the spoon to your mouth. A flush of warmth filled his cheeks as he made his way to the fridge, making it a point to turn away from you. Still, he knew your eyes never left him. 

“You still don’t sleep much, huh?” You asked, mouth full of cereal.

He sighed as he pulled the carton of orange juice off the shelf.

“I’d say I don’t sleep at all these days.”

He popped the top of the carton before bringing it to his mouth and throwing his head back. You watched him carefully, seeming to pause your eating.

“You’re a feral one now, aren’t you?” You asked in a playful tone. “Drinking right from the carton? Who have you become, Theodore Nott?”

He laughed, the sound being so foreign to him these days, before saying, “I generally live alone, and I never host other people. No need to waste a glass, as far as I’m concerned.”

Him ignoring the last comment of yours was intentional. Despite the playfulness behind it, Theo doesn’t know how you would feel about the man he’s become, and he doesn’t want to dwell on that fact. 

You continue to laugh as you shake your head.

“Mad behaviour.”

Theo eyed you. 

“Says the girl sitting on the counter, in the dark, eating cereal.”

You smiled as you take another bite.

“Got me there.”

It had been almost two months since Mattheo had taken you hostage and made you Theo’s problem. In an attempt to keep peace, Theo gave you free reign of the entire manor and all of the land around it. After repairing the furniture in the guest room (multiple times, as you had to get your frustration out somehow), Theo allowed you to stay there. Before his death, Nott Sr. had created a dungeon-esque holding below the house, with cage like cells and torture weapons, but Theo had the area of the house completely closed off upon his arrival as head of estate, and he wasn’t planning to reopen it anytime soon. Besides, the thought of locking you in an actual cell made Theo physically ill. 

“How’s the escape plot going?” Theo asked as he leaned against the counter adjacent from you, juice carton still in hand.

“Considering I can’t apparate because you already had anti apparation wards in place, the wards Mattheo placed that are linked to my DNA so I can’t leave the estate at all, and that bed being the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on…” You listed, raising a finger with every reason. “ … I’d say it’s going quite terribly.”

Theo’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he let out a surprised huff.

“Mattheo has always been quite meticulous.”

“Well, he said he was afraid you’d let me go.”

Theo’s smile faded quite quickly. 

The first couple of weeks following your capture, you had made yourself scarce around the manor, mostly spending time in the North wing. Theo made it a point to stay out of your way. Not only for the sake of your anger, but because he needed to work out his own emotions about you being there. Even in this moment, looking at you in the kitchen, he still hadn’t quite worked out how the whole thing made him him.

After the first couple of weeks, you had slowly started making your way through the manor, exploring every crevice. Every nook and cranny. Theo knew it was to look for a weakness to exploit that could lead to your escape, but he didn’t comment that to you. Just let it sit in the back of his head.

With your emergence from your room also came your increased interactions with the dark haired lad. It was painful at first, just a curt nod here and there, but it slowly built up to exchanging jokes and sarcastic comments, and even as far as the two of you reading books in silence together in the library.

It was almost as if there was never a moment between the days you and him spent together at Hogwarts and now. Just cut the time apart out and sew the rest together like the war never happened.

Theo often found himself wondering if he was one of the weaknesses you were attempting to exploit. 

Your comment about Mattheo believing Theo would let you go did nothing to snuff out that thought.

He tried not to think about it too much.

You watched him carefully as he took another long sip of juice from the carton.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me yet?” 

Theo rolled his eyes, setting the juice on the black countertop next to him. 

“Nope.”

He didn’t bother to ask how you knew it was even up for debate. You’d always had a knack for just knowing things. And he couldn’t imagine that his debates with Malfoy and Mattheo were as quiet as he would’ve liked them to be.

“What are you leaning towards?” You asked innocently, your eyes studying him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s see,” He mumbled. “Malfoy thinks I should turn you in. He doesn’t see why you’re useful here, and says you’d be better suited as a healer for… them.” He decided not to say Death Eaters, but you flinched at the idea anyway. “Mattheo thinks I should keep you here.”

Your eyes didn’t leave him as you took another bite of your cereal. Theo mirrored you with the orange juice. 

“But what are you leaning towards?”

“Not turning you in, that’s for damn sure.”

Your gaze pinned him, as your eyes narrow only slightly.

“So I’m stuck here then.” It was more of a statement than a question, and something about it made an ache burst through Theo’s chest. He had no idea how to respond, so he opted to say nothing, instead bringing the juice carton back to his lips. Your eyes followed him. “Theo, you’re a rational person. You know that I don’t want to be here. Why can’t you just let me go back to the Order?”

His eyes fluttered shut.

“It’s complicated.”

You set the bowl down on the counter before looking back up at him.

“Then simplify it for me.” 

All he could say in a breathy whisper was your name.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t even simplify it for himself. 

~

It all happens at once.

Theo quickly stands, pushing the chair out from under him so quickly that it glides across the floor and into the wall. 

Weasley rushes forward, his wand pointed at Theo.

Mattheo grabs Weasley by the scruff of his shirt, roughly shoving him into the wall with the tip of his wand jabbing into the ginger’s jugular. The impact of his back against the hard surface causes Weasley to drop his wand, which Mattheo swiftly kicks across the floor. 

Granger puts her wand only inches from Mattheo’s head, though he doesn’t appear to notice. 

Theo directs his wand to Granger.

“The difference between you and I, Weasley,” Mattheo hisses in his face. “Is that I don’t have any pathetic qualms about making a person suffer. So please. Point your wand at one of us again. We’ll see who comes out the bigger man.”

“That’s enough, Riddle!” Granger shouts, pressing her wand into Mattheo’s temple. Theo steps forward and jams his wand through her hair and into her occipital scalp.

“Drop it.”

A beat passes.

Mattheo’s face twitches.

Granger slowly lowers her hand, her jaw clenched so tight that Theo is convinced her teeth will crack.

“We all want the same outcome,” She says in a quiet voice, still glaring daggers at Mattheo.

“It’s how we get there that we can’t seem to see eye to eye on,” Theo growls. 

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Theo takes a step back towards the table he had previously been occupying. 

“Let him go, Mattheo.”

The curly haired man glares into Weasley’s face for a moment longer, letting his deep breath smack against the ginger’s face before he shoves him away. Theo’s eyes follow Mattheo as he walks back to his pacing area, and then they flick back to Granger. She looks incensed over what just occurred, as Weasley adjusts his shirt, embarrassment painting his cheeks pink.

Theo opts to stay standing this time. 

“She’s not a part of the equation,” He says in a low tone. “We can give you the maps, Finnegan and Lovegood for Malfoy. Or we can give nothing at all.” 

A draft fills the room as the wind can be heard whipping outside over the silence. 

“And again, we are well aware of Draco’s importance to the Death Eater army,” Granger says in a tone that matches Theo’s. “There is no option. It’s her or nothing.”

Theo fights the urge to curse her.

“Then it’s nothing.”

~

The door hit the wall so hard, Theo could almost feel the drywall dent. In the moment, however, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

You whipped around to face him. The anger on your face couldn’t be missed, but neither could his. For a while, the two of you just stared at each other, speaking through daggered glares and heaving chests, as if words weren’t necessary. 

It was a moment of deja vu, calling back to the first time the two of you met in what became your assigned bedroom of the house. Both times equally as tense, but for radically different reasons. And this time, all of the pieces of furniture were entirely intact. 

Finally, Theo broke the silence.

“What business do you have, entering the field?”

Your nostrils flared.

“What business do you have, almost getting yourself killed?”

A breeze came in through the window, chilling the room further. As if it needed the help. 

“I was handling myself fine,” He said in a low voice. “Injuries are bound to happen-“

“A pelvic fracture and an open head wound are both severe injuries,” You countered in a raised voice. “You may have felt fine in the moment but you wouldn’t have after you lost two liters of blood just from the fractured pelvis alone. You needed care.” 

Theo felt like throwing things as the anger flared heavily in his chest.

“I could’ve apparated back to the manor after-“

“You would’ve splinched yourself with that severe of injuries, Theo,” You snarled, looking exasperated. “Mattheo came and got me.”

Theo made a mental note to kick the absolute shit out of Mattheo the next time he saw him.

“You could’ve said no!” He shouted. “You’re not my bloody on-call healer who gets to risk her life whenever I almost die.” The image of you in the middle of the fight, dodging multiple green casts in your wake, was burned into his retinas. Despite being safe in the Manor now, his chest was still reeling from the panic that flooded his heart and lungs when he fought to get to you.

You took a rushed step forward.

“Don’t fucking do that,” You said in a strained voice. “You don’t get to drag my arse back into your life-“

“You think I wanted this for you?” He shouted, cutting you off. “I didn’t drag you anywhere. I didn’t bring you here. I didn’t ask for this.”

You took another step towards him, more controlled this time. Theo almost took a step backwards to keep the distance.

Almost.

“But you kept me here. Why am I still fucking here, Theo?”

The words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to even consider them.

“Because you fucking left me before I was fucking done with you!”

Theo’s chest heaved, as he stared down at you. The room became painfully silent, the only sound being Theo’s breathing. You were holding your breath. 

“What does that mean?”

Theo didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You left me to join the Order. You left me behind and I went bloody maniacal. I didn’t know a person could be touch starved for a specific set of hands, but your fingers burned their prints into my skin and I can’t get them to goddamn heal. And then Mattheo dropped you on my fucking door step and it was like I was an imprisoned man who just felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in years.”

You were frozen, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“Theo…” A breathy whisper.

Theo shook his head, feeling a mix of anger and desperation in his head and heart. When he spoke, his voice was more calm this time, taking a low tone. 

“If love were a language then the only one I know how to speak is the one we wrote together. I couldn’t lose you again. I can’t lose you again.”

It was unclear who moved first. Maybe Theo. Maybe you. Maybe both. But somehow, the distance between the two of you closed, and Theo’s mouth was crashing against yours.

His left hand was on the small of your back, the other on the back of your head. His fingers weaved through your hair with a firm grip, as if to keep you from pulling away. Your hands were on his cheeks, lightly cradling his head between your palms as your fingertips teased the beginnings of his hairline. 

“I love you,” He said in a silent voice, his lips still pressed against yours in the desperate kiss. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too.” Your words came without a sliver of hesitation.

His tongue parted your lips, as your fingers moved to the back of his head. A groan forced its way up his throat. Your nails against his scalp drove him insane. It always had. Theo knew you knew that well. 

And with that, he pushed you onto the bed. 

~ 

“So…”

Theo closes his eyes at the sound of Mattheo’s voice. His steps are slow as they walk up the pathway of Nott Manor. In an effort to prolong the inevitable, Theo pulls a cigarette from his pocket, setting it between his lips before lighting it with his wand. 

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Theo looks up at the sky as he blows a plume of smoke upwards to join the clouds. He can’t look at Mattheo.

“No,” He finally says. “We don’t.”

Mattheo pulls a smoke of his own out, lighting it before taking a deep inhale. The only sounds in the air are the wind and his exhale.

“What if we just stopped aiding them?” He suggested after a beat too long of silence. “They’re losing. They need the information we’re feeding them. A few weeks without it would have them feeding out of our palms.”

Theo considers this as he plops down on the top step leading onto the porch. The cold from the wood seeps through his trousers.

Not that his body held any warmth to begin with. Not since he walked out of that bar.

“We don’t have a few weeks.”

Another cloud fills the air.

“The Dark Lord wants Malfoy back now.”

Theo’s heart already feels hollow as he thinks about what he is getting ready to do. 

Mattheo paces the cobblestone pathway, running his fingers through his curls as he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

“There has to be a way.”

Theo studies his friend. There’s very few people Mattheo holds loyalty to. The Order wasn’t on the list, despite the way they were risking everything to help them. The other Death Eaters didn’t have it. Hell, even his own father only held enough of Mattheo’s loyalty to keep him alive. Not enough for it to matter.

But Mattheo, from the moment they met until this moment in front of Nott Manor, was always fiercely loyal to Theo. And the way he desperately tries to come up with a solution to fix this for Theo pulls at his heart.

Because his loyalty to Theo also extends to you. When Theo told Mattheo that he was planning to betray Voldemort’s army in an effort to end the war and keep you with him, Mattheo wasted no time in joining him. No questions asked.

Mattheo was willing to risk his head to keep you safe if that was what Theo needed. And in this moment, Theo knew he didn’t thank his friend enough. 

His hands shake slightly as he brings the cigarette back to his mouth.

“I don’t think there is.”

He doesn’t want to sound as defeated as he does. But as his mind runs a million kilometers a second, it still comes up short on a way of getting out of this. 

Mattheo shakes his head angrily.

“This is bullshit.”

And Theo says nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he finishes his cigarette, and plans what he’s going to say once he goes inside. 

~

Oh Merlin, do I really have to leave?

Theo sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at your sleeping form. Your back was facing him, the blanket low enough to show the bare skin of your upper torso. 

He swallowed hard.

Five minutes. Just another five minutes.

But he knew he wouldn’t stop at five.

He was in his Death Eater robes, dressed to leave. This meeting wasn’t one he could afford to miss, and yet, watching you sleep in his bed was enough to make him at least consider it. 

Reaching over, he traced the lines of your right scapula, moving down to the left, feeling your smooth skin and shoulder blades beneath his fingertips. Your body rose and fell with every breath you took, but you did not stir at his touch. He brushed your hair down to the side so it all fell concurrently onto the sheets. 

Every time he tried to stand, his legs would defy him. 

Bloody hell, this is impossible, he thought to himself.

The temptation to kiss you was strong, but he resisted. He didn’t want to wake you, because then you would know he was leaving, and then you’d ask questions. One’s he didn’t yet want to offer up the answers to.

You didn’t know what he was about to do.

The door creaked open, making Theo jump. Mattheo stood at the threshold, also in his robes. His eyes flitted between his friend and you, before they settled on Theo again. All he did was nod, a gesture that Theo returned, before turning and leaving once again.

A sigh forcing its way out of his lungs, Theo stood up from the bed. Before walking out the door, he threw one last fleeting glance your way.

This better fucking work.

Once the door to his bedroom was shut, Theo walked through the manor in a flash, before finding Mattheo standing in the front garden. His friend gave him a look, and it was not lost on Theo the anxiety in his expression.

“Are you sure about this?”

Mattheo’s words hung in the air, swirling around above them with the wind. Theo slowly let his head fall backwards as he stared at the sky. For once in his life, his thoughts weren’t racing. He was confident in this decision. He had never been more confident about anything. 

“I’m sure.”

No more words were said. 

Grabbing Mattheo’s forearm, the two men apparated. When they reappeared, it was in an empty warehouse in Sussex. Windows lined the walls just a meter or so below the ceiling. The walls themselves were painted an off white colour that left them looking dirty, with hand prints and muck dusting the paint. It felt too big, in Theo’s opinion. If this were to become a regular thing, they’d need something smaller. With seats, preferably.

The two got to work, placing wards and disillusionment charms everywhere they could. Before they knew it, a whole hour had passed, and they were just finishing up. 

“You know I hate this right?” Mattheo asked as they regrouped in the center of the giant room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not what we’re doing necessarily but this meeting?”

Theo had to fight the urge to laugh.

“You think I like this any more than you do?”

Mattheo shook his head as he looked around the warehouse, taking in the metal beams that lined the ceiling. 

Theo took the moment of quiet to get his thoughts in order. Ever since he sent that damn letter, he had dreaded this moment. And now it was here, and though he had spent countless hours stewing and preparing, right now, he felt completely naked and defenseless. 

A sensation filled the air. Theo looked over at the same time that Mattheo did. The door creaked open, the sound echoing off the walls and around the air, before Hermione Granger, followed by Ron Weasley, the Weasley twins, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, another Weasley they couldn’t place, and the blonde Triwizard Tournament champion from fourth year who Theo, for the life of him, could not remember the name of.

“All Gryffindors, mostly Weasels,” Mattheo mumbled under his breath. “Too much bloody red around here.” 

Theo fought the impulse to laugh.

The crowd of Order members approached them, all looking apprehensive. Granger stepped forward, her eyes jumping between the two of them.

“Nott.” When her eyes bounced back to Mattheo, the disdain became more apparent. When she spoke again, she spat the word out. “Riddle.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as Theo took a step forward, saving them the risk of what would happen if Mattheo were the next to speak.

“Granger.”

He debated on greeting the others, but decided against it. There simply wasn’t time for pleasantries. Besides, Theo didn’t particularly want to be polite to them. And he knew that Mattheo wanted nothing more than to raze the whole warehouse just because he saw that familiar flash of ginger hair one time, let alone several. So it was probably best to get right to the point.

“What’s this about?” The unfamiliar Weasley called out. 

It was hard for Theo not to grow annoyed. The amount of people in the building had him feeling overwhelmed, though he couldn’t exactly blame him. How else should they have responded? It could’ve been a trap, for all they knew. 

The moment Theo reached into his back pocket, a swarm of wands were pointing in his direction. In his periphery, he could see Mattheo’s fists clench. though he was grateful that his friend didn’t immediately start spitting off hexes and Unforgivables. Theo froze more out of politeness than fear, then slowed his movements down. With the same speed as a snail, he pulled out a couple of scrolls, tossing it on the floor halfway between where he stood and where she stood. The wands all moved to point at the scroll in the same way they would point at a bomb. 

“Those are plans for upcoming raids on your safe houses,” Theo explained. “Now you can be better prepared.”

The reaction was comical. At least, to Theo, it was.

Granger stared at the scrolls, her mouth agape. Ron and Ginny kept their wands pointed at it in a way that suggested they were convinced it was anything but a scroll. The twins backed away from it entirely. Dean Thomas stared not at the scroll, but at Mattheo specifically, confusion painting his expression. The unfamiliar Weasley with the scars on his face jumped away when Theo threw the scroll, and had not moved since. And the blonde looked like she wanted to approach it, but was too afraid to let her feet move. 

Granger was the first to speak.

“Why should we trust you?”

A draft filled the room.

“Trust us or don’t,” Mattheo quipped. “You’re losing. You’ve been losing. Pathetically. We’re guaranteeing you a win right now. Whether you decide to take that chance is up to you.”

The silence was deafening as the members of the Order all exchanged looks, looking absolutely flabbergasted by this turn of events. It was clear they were trying to have a conversation through their facial expressions. Every muscle in Theo’s body tensed as he waited for their reaction. 

This has to work, He thought to himself. 

This will work.

“What do you get out of this?”

Granger’s words hung in the hair, and though the question was for the both of them, her eyes were pointedly trained on Mattheo. When the two Death Eaters remained silent, she continued. 

“You’re betraying your families. Your fathers. What could you possibly have to gain, besides maybe a pardon from execution if we win?” She sneers. “And even that isn’t guaranteed.”

Visions of you lying in his bed, only covered by the duvet cover, overtook Theo’s head. He found himself wondering if you’d woken up yet. If you’d eaten. If you’d slept well. If you’d realised he’d left. The lump in his throat felt like a bolder when he swallowed it down. His fingertips burned with the feeling of your bare skin underneath them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo sees Mattheo glance over at him. 

This is, after all, Theo’s doing. So it’s his question to answer. 

“Family isn’t everything,” Theo said in a low tone. “And some people are worth yielding for.”

~

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

It takes Theo a full half hour before he finally finds you in the manor. Here you are, curled up on the couch in the library with one of his robes covering you like a blanket. Your back faces him as your face is nuzzled against the fabric of the back of the couch. 

Deja vu hits him hard.

Instead of waking you, Theo sits on the ottoman beside you and counts the amount of breaths you take. At the moment, he’s up to about sixty since he started. It’s easier on his heart to sit in the silence, only filled with your quiet snores.

It’s easier for his heart to handle than what it knows he has to do. 

But he knows that he’s only prolonging the inevitable.

Letting out a deep sigh, Theo reaches over and places his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. 

“Hey,” He says in a low voice in an attempt to not startle you. “It’s me. Wake up.”

Your head springs upward, looking around at the back of the couch before you roll over to face Theo. The way your eyes light up at the sight of him makes his heart ache in a way he’ll never be able to describe. It’s like he misses you before you’ve even left. 

A soft yawn takes over your face for just a brief moment, and is quickly replaced with a tired smile.

“How’d it go?”

Theo bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he can taste blood.

I can’t do this.

I can’t do this.

You have to do this.

“Not great.”

The smile fades from your face. As quickly as your still waking up body allows, you sit up, rolling over to face him entirely. Theo sits up straight as you pause, watching as the wheels turn in your head to process what he had said.

“What happened?” Your voice is so small, and something about it gives Theo the impression that you already know where this conversation is about to go. He sighs heavily. The pain in his upper back makes it feel like he has the entire world on his shoulders.

“They wouldn’t return Malfoy to us,” He explains. In an effort to hide the shake in his voice, he speaks slowly. “They… they had specific conditions for his release.” 

The hush blanketing the room is only pacified by the pounding in Theo’s ears. 

If there is one thing about you that Theo knows deeply, it’s that you can’t keep your emotions off your face. So it’s to his great dismay that he watches your expression shift from confusion, to thoughtful, to realisation.

“They want me, don’t they?”

The words feel like a bullet each, piercing through Theo’s chest and implanting straight into his heart. 

I can’t bloody do this.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, the quiet that overtakes the room is less welcome as that one single word hangs over the two of you like a storm cloud threatening a downpour. The way Theo’s mind runs a million kilometers a second makes it so deafening. He can see the conflict on your face as you consider what needs to be done. The downward cast of your sleep stained eyes and the way you curl your lip in thought makes him want to burn the entire Order to the ground so he doesn’t have to even consider losing you.

He sucks in through his nose as the hand on his knee clenches tightly into a fist.

When your eyes drift back up to meet his, matching resolve in your expression, Theo has to swallow down the urge to cry. 

“When?”

His nails dig into his palm.

“Mattheo’s going to take you once you’re ready.”

A frown crosses over your face. 

“You're not going?” 

Theo can’t recall another time in his life where he’s felt as broken as he does now, looking into your sad stricken and confused eyes.

He’s losing you again.

He’s losing you again. 

“I can’t.” He swallows the lump in his throat that makes his words come out choked. “I… I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

He lets the rest of his thoughts remain left unsaid. That he would kill them before they could even leave the area with you. That he’d kill every last one of them for taking the only good thing he’d had during this god forsaken war. The entire reason he had broken his loyalties to the Dark Lord in an attempt to put it to an end. 

And now, he has to watch you leave him.

Again.

Anguish and surprise conflict your face, making him take your hand in his and hold it tightly.

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” The desperation in his voice is so palpable that you can feel it bleeding onto the skin of your fingertips. Theo’s eyes never leave yours. “I’ll finish this. For you. For us.”

You fill the spaces between his fingers with your own.

You haven’t even left yet, but Theo begins to dread the ghost of your touch that will be left behind once you are. It’s a feeling he knows too intimately.

“What if we lose?” You ask him in a soft whisper. “Or what if one of us doesn’t make it?”

The air leaves Theo’s lungs, evaporating from the heat of your words.

He wants to dig a bunker and hide you in it, keeping you far away from the sins of the war and the pain of ever leaving his side. He wants to blow up the world and watch from space with you on his arm. He wants to do anything, literally anything that would take away the hurt in your eyes. 

Images of the many ways he wishes to kill the Dark Lord and end this devastation flash through his mind.

“I need you to hear me when I say this,” Theo says in a slow tone. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure my return to you. Even if that means I have to blow through the gates of hell myself and crawl out of my grave. Make no bloody mistake. I will come back for you.”

[popponn]

i didn't expect to see a future with you.

summary: it began as another fun and beneficial thing to have. until suddenly, it was about wanting ‘you and him for a very long time’. (in other words, he really didn’t mean to fall for you. really.)

characters: kaiser, reo, nagi.

notes: i tried to write about l word without mentioning it once. i hope i manage to get them right, this is my first time writing reo and kaiser especially. warning: relationships that started as casual and unserious, gacha at nagi's part. i really like fall later and harder troupe recently...

kaiser

months ago, if kaiser knew you got a fever, he would type a message of ‘get well soon’ without much meaning behind it along with a few extra sentences just to charm it all up. he would just cancel the date the two of you were supposed to be having and do anything else. practice, review his performance, or hell maybe have a different date and have fun with someone else. it was written all over the place, how this thing between you and him were anything but serious. he would never ask for your care, therefore he wouldn’t give you anything other than ‘the fun’ either.

and yet, here he sat on your bedside, porridge in hand like a nagging nanny because a moronic idiot—you—thought it was smart to walk through a storm instead of calling him or someone to pick you up. the thought of relationships and definitions and such as became the furthest thing in his mind the moment you called him with your slurred voice. you, being a helpless mush that could only wrap yourself with a blanket, couldn’t exactly protest to both his presence and harsh words. kaiser certainly didn’t shy away from calling you names—incompetent fool, being one of the tamer ones—the moment he arrived at your bedroom with medicines.

after cursing you and your useless outdated static of a brain, kaiser ushered you into the bed as he searched through your cabinets and ordered foods for your empty stomach. under the haze of your fever, you apologized to him and thank him. kaiser just gave you another comment about being stupid and baited a laugh from you. it was raspy and uglier than usual, but kaiser thought it would suffice. then, like a noisy sickly chatterbox, you asked why he choose you instead of his ‘anything else’.

“…it’s because I’m not an idiot,” Michael Kaiser replied to you after a long moment of silence. His back was turned towards you, the tone in his voice unshaken and flat, yet undeniably honest. “I know what I want.”

Your head throbbed painfully not truly understanding what he meant. But for him, you pushed out a chuckle, “’s that so, Michael…?”

“Do you even know what you are saying?” he shot back, his blurry figure walking closer towards you. As the view of his profile became clearer, you realized how you couldn’t quiet put a name on his expression. “Just rest up, you big baby.”

reo

as cruel as it was to say this, reo didn’t exactly begin with seeing you as a ‘person’. to him, you were more of the embodiment of ‘momentary excitements, rest, and escapism’. somewhere for him to have fun without thinking much, a someone who he could interact without any law of cause and effect following him. reo was certain you too saw him the same way. the two of you were a ‘why not?’ that could and would end like a passing breeze. it was nice, but it wouldn’t last long.

then, slowly came the late night chats, the voice notes filled with mundane things and lame jokes. afterwards, long talks about both anything and nothing followed. you came to his match, you were introduced to his teammates, you were a presence that was almost became a constant in every hour reo spent awake. and reo knew more than anyone else that he didn’t hate it when he watched you cry uglily at a movie he didn’t bother to pay attention to. in a way, he knew he was gone.

snotty and messy, your hand blindly reached around his sofa for a box of tissues. reo couldn’t take his eyes away from you as he laughed lightly and pushed the tissues towards you. hearing his chortles, you threw your cold feet towards his lap. you were looking at him with a pissed off questioning look whilst reo could only think how he could do this everyday.

“Is it even that sad?” Mikage Reo asked, teasing even when he slowly shifted your legs to comfortably rest on his lap. When the ‘pissed off’ look on your face intensified, Reo wondered if you would let him took a photo. For what, he didn’t exactly know either, but he certainly would be happy if you would let him.

“It’s about him finally realizing what he should have done, Reo!” you said, as if it answered everything. Reo could only chuckle—because perhaps it did. “Stop laughing! I didn’t laugh the last time you cried at that lame movie!”

He pushed himself closer towards you, a smile that felt like it wouldn’t die down plastered itself on his face. As the space between the two of you disappeared and you slotted yourself on his side like a piece long gone, he leaned his head against yours and didn’t stop himself from wrapping a hand on your shoulder. Still with a feeling he would soon said out loud to you, Reo continued to laugh merrily, “Come on, don’t say that. Here, here, let me wipe off those tears.”

nagi

the two of you started as a pair of gaming buddies simply because he found you funny and became what was pretty much ‘maybe-dating by convenience but still play together every now and then’ because one of his nosy sponsors who would love nagi to date his daughter. you were not troublesome, you did not ask much from nagi, you did not disturb his soccer career, and you seemed to like choki a lot. nagi didn’t exactly understand why you ‘date’ him, but if the comments from his friends were anything to go by, he supposed whatever reason you had were not terrible for him in any way.

the two of you sometimes hang around his room. usually it because you wanted to pull a gacha character and demanded nagi’s hands for luck. nagi didn’t exactly get it, but it wasn’t rare for you to made an interesting expression depending on what you got, so he supposed it was entertaining in a way. and each time the two of you did this, he also found it was fun to sit beside you and had you grab his hand for ‘luck’.

then the sunset came through from the window that day and you grabbed his hand yet again. suddenly, nagi found it unsurprising for him to remember every contour and corner of your hand. his eyes were trained on your face, watching you focusing on your phone screen and it felt like seeing you for the first time. when he intertwined your fingers with his as you cheered, it felt natural.

“Did you get her?” Nagi Seishirou leaned his weight towards you, letting the bed tilted along with him. He let you held his hand tighter as you too pressed your side to him. A grin that was bright and messy plastered itself on your face and Seishirou thought it suited the color of sunset. “You get her, huh? Yay.”

You were still buzzing with joy and excitement, your other hand reaching over him to hug his head to your chest. “Thank you! Thank you! Sei, I owe you!”

“Owe me, huh…?” Seishirou tried his best to think of a respond, but honestly all he could think of was how pleasant it was to be hugged by you, even if you probably weren’t thinking much of the action. Perhaps he really was as lucky as you had stated through big words and stressed intonations. As he returned your hug, Seishirou said, “Then, can I ask something for my payment?”

[cece693]

Ok uh Hi am new to this I just saw the " brilliant " fic which was 👏🏻👏🏻. Sooo I was wondering if u can make a fluff fic about clint barton x male reader, if thats ok with you?

Farm Boy (Clint Barton x Male Reader)

Hello! I'm actually not that much of a Hawkeye fan so it took me a while to write this and find motivation, but I think it turned out alright. Hope you enjoy it!

Clint Barton rarely got a day off. Between Avengers missions, SHIELD calls, and the occasional intergalactic catastrophe, his time at home was precious and fleeting. But today? Today was all his. All theirs. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Clint stretched out in bed, the familiar creak of the old farmhouse adding to the peaceful ambiance. Beside him, you were still curled up in the covers, your hair tousled and your breathing soft. Clint smiled lazily, taking a moment to watch you before slipping out of bed as quietly as he could.

The kitchen smelled like coffee and bacon a half hour later. Clint hummed to himself as he flipped pancakes, a skill honed over years of needing to impress his husband after burning a few too many breakfasts in the early days of your relationship.

“Is that bacon I smell, or am I dreaming?” Your groggy voice drifted into the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of your socked feet shuffling across the hardwood floor.

Clint turned with a grin, a spatula in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “Morning, sleepyhead. I figured I’d let you sleep in for once, but your stomach had other plans, huh?”

You chuckled, pulling him into a quick kiss before stealing the coffee. “You know me too well.”

The morning passed in a haze of quiet domesticity. Clint insisted on dragging you outside after breakfast, despite your protests about the slight chill in the autumn air. The two of you spent hours tending to the garden, chasing a rogue chicken that had escaped its coop, and splitting logs for the fire pit. It wasn’t glamorous, but that was the point. It was simple, real, and yours.

By late afternoon, the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the farm. Clint had convinced you to take a break on the porch swing, a thick blanket draped over both your laps. He leaned back, one arm around your shoulders, the other hand fiddling with a mug of cider.

“This,” Clint said, breaking the comfortable silence, “is what I miss the most when I’m away. Just being here with you. No explosions, no supervillains, no crazy missions. Just us.”

You smiled, leaning into his side. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t cry, babe. I’ll just have to kiss it all better, and that sounds like a lot of work,” he teased, though his lips were already pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

You turned to face him, eyes soft as you brushed a hand through his hair. “You know you’re a lot more than just Hawkeye to me, right? You’re my Clint. My husband. The guy who makes terrible pancakes and hogs the blanket at night.”

He smirked. “Terrible pancakes? You ate three of them this morning.”

“Details,” you replied with a grin, leaning up to kiss him. Clint melted into it, his hand coming up to cradle your face, the moment stretching out like a scene from a romance movie.

As the sky turned shades of pink and orange, Clint sighed contentedly, pulling you closer. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this life with you, but I’m not letting it go. Ever.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers intertwining with his. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, either.” The two of you stayed on the porch swing long after the sun disappeared, wrapped in each other’s warmth, soaking up every second of Clint’s rare, perfect day off.

[thefallennightmare]

Ménage à Trois-eight

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/pinterest*

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ only please, swearing, angst, fluff. M/F/M relations.

Summary: Bucky has a proposition for Reader, something involving Steve. This trio, however, never expected for their lives to change after that night the way it had.

A/N: Phew, just filthy smut ahead ;) Tags are open!

Tags(open): @matisse030502 @buckystevelove @floral-recs @inlovewithametalarm @buckies-dolle @cjand10 @matchat3a @kamaria-sweet-writes @pono-pura-vida @miikayywhocares @kunaikunari @mousee555 @akmenia @pono-pura-vida @ezraa-the

My feet paced my apartment back and forth, my heart racing with so much worry I kept running my hand through my hair. It had been a few hours since I last saw Steve before he ran off after the shooter. I had little time to react to what happened because Colonel Philips whisked me away in the car telling the driver to take me straight home. Whatever questions I had gone unanswered in the haze of the chaos.

Dr. Erskine was dead. That was the first time I had seen a dead body and his lifeless eyes stared back at me before Colonel Phillips wrapped an arm around me, pulling me away.

The shooter escaped, not before taking the last vial of the bright blue serum. Both Steve and Peggy ran after him to do only god knows what. I understood Steve cared for the Doctor but he shouldn’t have gone after the shooter. Even if he was a super soldier now, he did not know how the serum affected him yet.

What if he fainted and was lying in the street?

What if the serum had failed, and he got shot?

I shook my head at the thought and forced myself to stop pacing, taking in a deep breath before letting it out low and slow.

Steve would be fine, I thought to myself. He’s a super soldier now. He’ll be alright.

Suddenly, the door to my apartment busted open, and I walked a very pissed-off Steve. Any anger I had built up ready to attack him faded the moment I saw how sad his eyes were.

“Oh, Stevie,” I sighed.

When his eyes landed on me, everything bad that was weighing heavily on his shoulders faded away and he closed the distance between us in two very large steps. Strong arms wrapped around my back and I breathed in his scent. My hands sprawled over the large muscles in his back and given any other circumstances, I would have marveled at the way they felt beneath my fingertips.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked into my hairline, leaving a few kisses there.

I nodded while pressing my face deeper into his chest. “Yeah, I’m okay. Colonel Phillips put me in a car right away and I’ve been here the last couple of hours.”

He breathed. “Good.”

I peered up at him, not being used to the sudden change in height. Before, I would stand a few inches over Steve. Now, he was the one towering over me.

“What happened?” I asked.

His muscles tensed with anger but my soft touch eased it slightly.

“The shooter killed himself,” Steve said.

My eyes doubled in size. “Why the hell would he do that?”

Steve shrugged. “I’m not sure. But once I got back, Peggy forced me into a chair so they could take my blood. Fucking filled up eight vials so they can use it hoping to recreate Erskine’s serum.”

“What?” I gasped. “Steve, that’s a lot of blood to lose. How are you even standing right now?”

My hands cupped his cheeks so I could look into his eyes but he reassured me with a soft kiss to the inside of my palm. “I’m alright.”

We stayed in that position for a few more moments and much to Steve’s dismay; I pulled away slightly. A whine erupted from his throat so I linked fingers with him and began leading him to the bedroom.

“Stay with me tonight?” I asked as we passed through the doorway.

He eagerly nodded. “Nowhere else I would rather stay, doll.”

Even with the sly smirk, I knew Steve was hurting about Dr. Erskine’s death but I didn’t want to push him yet on how he was feeling. He would tell me if he wanted to.

Once in the bedroom, I motioned for Steve to sit on the bed. It was late in the evening and his eyes shone with exhaustion.

“I’ll find something of Bucky’s for you to where,” I said.

Before I could turn around, Steve linked fingers with mine and pulled me into his lap. My squeal echoed off of the walls. With his large hands grappling my hips, he buried his face into the crook of my neck.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you were the one who got shot,” Steve admitted with a shaky breath.

My heart sank low into my stomach, hearing how wrecked his voice was.

“I’m alright,” I rubbed his shoulders. “I’m right here.”

“Buck would have buried me alive if that happened,” he said with a dry chuckle.

As much as I wanted to deny it for Steve’s sake, I knew he was right.

I lifted his chin to look into my eyes. “He’s going to lose his mind when he finds out what you did.”

Steve nodded. “I know.”

“He’ll get over it once he sees how handsome you look,” I giggled while pressing our foreheads together.

He breathed me in, hands bringing me in closer to him. I let out a soft moan when my core rubbed against his cock. It wasn’t hard, still soft, but I could tell the action had the same effect on him. I ignored it, however, knowing that tonight probably wasn’t the night for sex.

So instead, I motioned towards the hallway. “I’m going to take a shower. Do you need anything?”

Without a word, Steve pressed his lips to mine in a gentle, slow kiss. The serum must have changed his lips because now they were fuller and tasted so fucking sweet on my tongue. I groaned into the kiss and wrapped my arms around his neck to deepen it.

“Doll,” he sucked on my bottom lip. “Don’t go.”

I giggled once more in his embrace. “I’m only going to take a shower.”

At the mention of me taking a shower, Steve’s now hard cock pressed against my core. I was still wearing my dress from earlier and with how I was sitting on his lap, the dress had ridden up giving his clothed cock access to my pussy that was still covered by my underwear.

“Steve,” I moaned.

“I need you, Y/N. Please.”

My stomach burned with desire at the way his voice begged for me and I felt my panties dampen with my wetness.

All he needed was a nod from me before Steve had my dress on the ground and laid me on the mattress. I stared up at him in nothing but my black panties and his eyes raked over me with such hunger it made my entire body shiver.

Steve’s lips were on my skin in a flash, leaving kisses and bite marks where ever he wanted to claim me. I didn’t mind, the feeling of his teeth biting into me brought a fire sensation straight to the middle of my legs and I moaned out his name when his tongue brushed across one of my nipples.

“Steve,” my hand scratched at his hair.

He worked my nipple for a few minutes, pulling the perky bud between his teeth before soothing the pain with his tongue. Below, his fingers grazed my slick folds over the confines of my panties and I raised my hip into his hand needing some kind of friction.

“Please,” I begged.

Steve’s mouth left my nipple before kissing his way up the valley between my breast, over the pulse point on my neck then he dragged his nose up over my chin and I leaned my head back into the pillow.

“Tell me what you want,” he groaned.

“I want-,” my voice gave out.

The sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls and I screamed out in pleasure, Steve smacking my ass once more.

“What do you want?” He grunted.

“I want you to eat me out,” I breathed out in one fast breath.

Steve’s smile faltered a bit. “I’ve never done that before.”

Suddenly, I remembered that he still wasn’t well versed in sex; me being in first.

“It’s like you’re fingering or touching me down there but with your tongue. Whatever you want to taste or do with it, go for it.”

I guided him with a hand to his head and shivered when his hot breath fanned over the wetness in between my legs. So slowly, Steve pulled down my panties before tossing them to the floor.

“Don’t overthink it, Stevie. Just do,” I said when I felt him tense under my touch on his shoulder.

And he did just that. A loud groan of pleasure crawled out of my lips when I felt the tip of his tongue press hard into the sensitive nub, tracing circles. My fingers raked through his hair while my hips raised into his mouth, needing more.

“Faster,” I panted. “You can lick faster.”

Steve obeyed, but it wasn’t quite enough. I needed more.

“Finger me,” I begged. “Please.”

This time, he didn’t hesitate. He dove right in; literally. With one finger buried deep between my walls and his tongue pressing those hard circles over my clit, I covered my face with my hands not wanting my orgasm to wash over me yet. I wanted to enjoy this feeling longer.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned when Steve slipped another finger into me.

The new thickness was what my body needed to reach my climax, the blinding white orgasm crashing into me and I rode it out on Steve’s fingers and tongue. His name fell from my lips repeatedly in broken moans.

I lightly tapped his head to let him know he could stop but frowned when I felt the fullness of his fingers leave my pussy.

“Shit,” he muttered while licking my orgasm off of his lips. “Bucky always said you tasted so sweet. I thought he meant your kisses.”

My heart smiled at his innocence but now, innocence was gone. The only thing that filled the room was our pure desire for one another. Grabbing his fingers that were once inside me, I brought them to my lips and sucked off my juices, moaning around them.

“Fuck,” Steve cursed. “Doll, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

I let his fingers go with a pop before smiling up at him with hazy eyes. “You have seen nothing yet, Stevie.”

We made quick work of shedding his clothes and when he kneeled on the bed in nothing but his bareness; I took a few moments to take in his new body. His arms and chest were thicker, with more muscles. His abs rippled with definition under the light from the end table, his things were so fucking huge, they could probably suffocate me. But where my gaze lingered longer than the rest of his body was his now larger cock.

Even if he wasn’t hard, the size change was different. No longer was he short and thick but now he was longer and thicker; almost thicker than Bucky.

Hell, I had to admit it. He was thicker than Bucky.

“Oh fuck me,” I exasperated. “You’re fucking huge.”

Steve blushed. “I’ve never realized how dirty your mouth is, doll.”

I pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “Well, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

“What do you want?” I asked him now, wondering what he desired most at the moment.

Steve’s hand gripped the back of my skull, forcing me to look up at the ceiling while he sat up, teeth dragging over the skin of my neck.

“I want to fuck that pretty little pussy.”

I swear in that moment, I came a little over his cock with only his words.

“Well,” I cleared my throat. “I stand corrected. It seems as if you learned quite enough.”

Steve gave me a devilish grin before bending over to the end table and rummaging for a condom. He made quick work of it, ripping the wrapper open with his teeth and sliding the condom over his dick. I let out a low whistle.

“The new Steve has a lot of confidence, eh?”

All he did was give me a look and when I nodded, he slid into me and I hissed at the new pain.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked, halting his thrust.

I nodded quickly. “Yeah, keep going. I’ll get used to the size.”

He did what I said and listened intently to my moans. First, it came out strangled as I bit my lip, eyes closed tight. Then my hips moved in sync with his until finally a groan of euphoric bliss fell from my lips as I started riding his cock faster.

“So good,” I breathed.

Steve leaned against the headboard and then dug his nails into my hips, undoubtedly leaving marks. “You’re so tight, Y/N.”

Our movements were slow at first, enjoying the feeling almost as if it was our first time all over again. It was. The new Steve, the super soldier, was now losing his virginity.

Soon, our slow languid movements became fast and erratic. Steve wrapped an arm around me and pulled me closer to his chest.

“Can you handle it?” He muttered his question into the divet where my shoulder met my neck.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” I assured him. “I’m used to Bucky.”

That’s all Steve needed to hear before he slams up into me, the head of his cock hitting that spot. The veins on his cock scratched at my inner walls and I squeezed around him, a mess of curses and moans spewing from our lips.

“Fuck-so-good,” I breathed.

“You-take-me-so-well-doll,” Steve gritted out through each thrust.

My nails scratched at his shoulders. “Harder.”

He obeyed and with his cock slamming into me and his mouth working at the pulse point in my neck; I felt myself come undone all over him. My wetness spread all over his thick cock and I screamed out in pleasure, my orgasm wrecking through me.

“That’s a good girl. I’m so close,” Steve nibbled at my earlobe.

Exhaustion crashed into me but I didn’t let him know, I needed him to cum. With my head resting against his shoulder, I rolled and rocked my hips over him. The feeling made Steve lean his head back against the headboard, our movements causing it to slam against the wall behind us.

Great, can’t wait for my neighbors to complain about the noise.

“Cum for me, Stevie. I need you to cum for me,” I panted in his ear.

He did; so hard and fast I could feel him cum into the condom and I moaned.

“Yes,” I hissed, riding out his orgasm with him.

When his body stilled, I pulled away from his shoulder and cupped his cheek, looking into his eyes.

His once lust-blown pupils returned to their normal blue, and I smiled fondly at him. “That was good.”

Steve grunted in response, squeezing his arms around me, and slowly pulled himself out of me. We both sighed at the sudden loss of warmth. As he busied himself by running into the bathroom to dispose of the condom, I laid on the comforter, fatigue creeping up into me.

It had been such a long day, so many emotions and things went unsaid about what happened, then with the great sex, my body couldn’t fight sleep any longer. I was fast asleep before Steve came back into the room with a washcloth. He cleaned me up and then slide in behind me. He tossed the blanket over our exposed bottom half and then shut off the light, darkness encasing us.

“Sweet dreams, doll,” he muttered into my hairline.

The only response he received from me was my deep snores.

[romanoffsbish]

In a Summer Haze

CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Happy 4/20, 🥰 (belated by a few hours because I passed out 😏 yesterday before finishing the fic)

Warnings: Drugs (Weed): Shotgunning

Smut: Mommy(N), Oral (R), Fingering (R), Overstimulation, Double Sided Strap (R/N).

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha truly loved everything about you.

Like the way your nose scrunched up when she'd tell you a silly joke, or how you'd pull the car over to guide ducks through traffic, but her favorite thing was how you smiled when you settled into her embrace after every long day.

What she especially loved though, was how pliant you were for her. If she wanted to try something new, you were always on board.

——

Marijuana wasn't new to the redhead, but it is for you, and with how long it's been for her it'll likely have the same sort of effect on her. It's something she hadn't dabbled with since she graduated college all those years ago. Starting a company took too much time and energy, she hadn't the time for such frivolities as the CEO.

Until now that is, she was waiting for you to return from the kitchen in your Summer beach house as she rolled a fat joint. This was the first time she'd been on vacation in over a decade, she hadn't gone off since she started working. Natasha was a workaholic to her core, and if not for you she'd never stop and smell the bud.

"One scotch on the rocks for the hottie in my bed," you sang as you entered the room, "and a virgin Shirley Temple for me of course."

"Your bed?"

"If I didn't make you buy this place, it wouldn't be either of ours," you affirmed with a glare, "Plus, what's yours is mine, remember?" you flashed your ring at her as you slipped her the drink, and softly pecked her lips, pulling back with a refined grimace at the way she tasted.

Natasha chuckled, "It might not taste the best, but trust me detka, best orgasm of your life."

"How would you know?" You huffed, sending her a warning glare as you settled down on your side of the bed, she only smirked, "I lived many a life before you Y/N," she paused her talking to seal the joint, holding steady eye contact with you as she licked across the paper, then she used her fingers to seal it seamlessly.

"Which comes with experience," she finally continued on, she placed the joint between her fingers and slowly crawled across the mattress until she was straddling your lap. With her free hand she cupped your face, slowly running her thumb over the apple of your cheek with clear affection, "This life is my favorite though."

"Natty," you softly aired your insecurities with only a whisper of her nickname, "Shh, don't overthink it moya lyubov', just relax for me."

Natasha lit the tip of the pristinely rolled joint, she allowed the embers to burn until the smell of the ganja flitted between the both of you.

"Watch me," she lifted the joint to her lips, her eyes stayed locked in on yours as she inhaled with careful precision. You nearly killed her with just how adorable you looked, as if you were still that bright young intern at her company learning the ropes. Your brows were deeply furrowed, and your nose was scrunched as your eyes drank her in. "Your turn detka."

Natasha flipped the joint, she held it up to your lips, and after a moment of intense staring you took the wetted piece between your lips and sucked hesitantly. For a second it was going well, but you overdid the pull before Nat could take the joint from you, and now you were spluttering as smoke billowed from your lips.

"Gotta pace yourself detka," she mused, and you looked to her through your bleary eyes to see as she took yet another hit without a hitch.

"How are you so good?" You whined, and she chuckled softly as an idea came to her, "Here," she gripped your chin, nails softly digging into the thin skin as she did, you watched her take another slow drag off the joint, the embers at the end a bright orange as they crackled loud enough to fill the deafening silence. Natasha used her free thumb to part your lips, and before you knew it she was transferring the clouds of smoke to you through a soft kiss.

Something about focusing on her pillow soft lips made the process much easier. She softly whispered for you to inhale, and this time you did so without a need to break the kiss apart. Natasha used that to her advantage as she slid her tongue over yours, and was rewarded with a desperate moan that even she unexpected.

Everything was on a new level, you'd never felt anything like this in your life, and you were still deciding if you wanted to again. This sort of heaviness had settled into your limbs, it felt like if you tried to stand they'd be like cement blocks stationing you in place. Then in direct contrast every nerve in your body was alit, the callouses of Natasha's fingers normally were unnoticeable as they trailed over your skin, but as she runs them over your arms you shivered.

"How you feeling detka?" Natasha was amused, she could see the haze in your eyes had set in within mere minutes. She's sure you didn't even realize it, but you'd been sat there with your lips parted ever since the kiss ended.

Mindlessly waiting for more she hopes...

"Like a caterpillar," you noted seriously, and she nearly chocked on the heavy cloud of smoke she was holding in her lungs, "How so?"

"I, hm," you paused to think, it was your truth, but as is the case for most you couldn't fathom how to explain it, "Colorful," you tried, and then you pouted as she giggled in your face.

"I'm not going to tell you if you're being mean!"

Natasha set the burning joint down carefully on the bedside table, then she cupped your cheeks, "I'm not being mean, now go on."

You sighed, "You know how they scrunch their bodies to move?" she nodded with a practiced straight face, "Well, it kinda feels like my brain is doing that just to think. Like it's squeezing tight, then it's just flopping down as if we ran a marathon. Up. Down. Up. Down. It's strange."

Natasha nodded with a smirk, she went to lean in for a kiss but apparently you weren't done, "Also, they eat leaves, and now I smoke them."

Natasha snorted, "Yeah, you do," she reached over to the table to put the joint out for now, "My sweet little lightweight," she teased.

Before you could protest her very true to form statement she captured your lips with hers.

Never in your life did you imagine anything could be better than kissing your wife, but in this moment you realized the only thing better than kissing her, is doing it while being high.

There was a dull ache steadily increasing in between your legs the more she kissed you. Her tongue simply devoured your mouth as you put up no fight, and her hips ground into yours in a calculated motion, building you up unbearably.

"Please..." You begged, and the woman was grinning from ear to ear, "What is it detka?"

A whimper left you as she'd stopped touching you so intimately, you desired having her close. Natasha's pupils were blown, and you weren't sure if your eyes were deceiving you or not, but it appeared like the light green hue darkened.

"I need you mommy," you canted your hips up, pulling a surprised groan from your lover as she too was overly sensitive, "Wanna be your last best orgasm, please, make us the best!"

"You're already my best detka," she attempted to peck your worries away, and in a move to speed the previously tedious process along she trailed her lips over the taut skin of your jaw, her hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt and in one fluid motion the fabric was gone.

"Mommy's going to take such good care of you detka," she whispered hotly against the column of your throat, the hot air she expelled had you squirming as it fanned across your skin. Nat giggled as she felt the way your throat shivered beneath her lips, you'd moaned when her teeth scraped over your skin, "Such a sensitive girl."

The journey to between the apex of your thighs was provocatively slow, her focus on your breasts had you writhing, but you held no real complaints. Every mark she sucked into your skin only brought you closer to your release. Natasha had barely touched you but you felt like you were on the verge of combusting.

"Fuck, you taste so good detka," Natasha lost the need to tease you as soon as her tongue slid over the plush skin of your thigh. Your essence was intoxicating in taste and smell, she inhaled deeply, as if she could hold onto your scent forever this way, her chest was now heaving with such an intense need. A need for you.

Natasha buried her face between your thighs. There was an unlocked carnality to the way her tongue moved through your folds. She's always been a passionate lover, but this went deeper. The woman wasn't even coming up for air, and that willingness of hers to suffocate just to taste you brought you crashing over a blissful edge.

That success didn't stop her either, your bodies writhing and your screaming only encouraged her as she fucked you straight through your orgasm. Natasha was honestly drunk on you, like you were the finest Bordeaux and she was savoring every last drop. Through countless orgasms she continued to eat you out like a fiend, the way tremors of your thighs rippled against her face blew her massive ego up.

Once you reached a point of overstimulation, your legs having tightened around her head in a way that made her dizzy beyond belief, she decided it was best she showed your cunt some momentary mercy. She slowly curled her tongue while buried deep inside you, and as more of your essence spilled from within you she greedily lapped it all up for a final time.

When she finally pried your legs open she was lifting her head up to look at your expression. Your face was a picturesque reflection of bliss. There was a glaze to your bloodshot eyes that gradually tipped over the edge, the tears of satisfaction enhanced your beauty really. After your gasping had tempered you wore a smile, and Natasha mirrored it as she hovered above.

“How you feeling now?” Natasha chuckled when you rolled your eyes, “Like a happy caterpillar, maybe soon I’ll be a butterfly.”

“Oh, I can help you fly baby,” you quirked a brow, and the redhead winked before giving you a nonverbal answer, her fingers entered you and that had your back flying off the bed.

"Oh God," you cried out as she thrusted her fingers into you with little regard to your increased sensitivity, “Oh fuck,” if anything she was exploiting this limited timed response.

Natasha found your inability to speak amusing, the profanities you were just screaming faded out into incoherent babbling interrupted only by involuntary growls from deep within you. There had never been a moment like this for you two before, Natasha was a premium lover, but this experience was clearly next level.

Natasha swiveled her thumb over your clit, "There you go detka," Natasha husked hotly against your lips as you shrieked against hers, "Scream for me Y/N, scream for mommy."

Natasha watched you coming undone, propped up on her elbow she watched with rapt eyes as your mouth flew open, and eyes screwed shut.

"Open your eyes," she tapped your temple, and you hazily obliged, "Such pretty eyes detka," she smiled at you with relative ease, as if she didn't even have to focus on her hand that was jackhammering into you. Holding eye contact with her as she fucked you was dizzying, add on the way she dripped onto your thigh, and it launched you into the best orgasm of your life.

Successfully topping herself as the title holder. She’s long since ruined you for anyone else.

There was nothing more beautiful than seeing you with your lips parted, a melody of moans leaving your lips via your throat as your eyes rolled back into your head so far she was sure you could see your brain. As you worked on coming down from such a glorious high your lover sweetly peppered your face with kisses.

Once your were relatively cognizant she met your lips for a sweet, sensual kiss. There wasn’t much of a rush for either of you to part, you were quite enjoying this moment of reprieve. Because as great as she made you feel just now, you honestly needed a break, and tasting your essence on her tongue was helping to build your dying arousal back up. Something you weren’t used to either, usually after about five big O’s you were ready to tap out, but the drugs coursing in your system surged your libido on.

“Mommy wants to fuck you with her cock,” Natasha growled out her desires as you’d just separated to breathe, she felt you tense a bit, “Come on detka,” Natasha pleaded with a pout, “Just one more, please, mommy needs this.”

You meekly nodded, you could never deny the woman such relief. Not when she worked as hard as she did to provide a life for the both of you, and it’s not like it came at your expense. Her pleasure came with promises of your own.

Natasha slid the strap inside of herself, she nearly buckled at the knees due to the large intrusion, but she managed to hobble back over to the bed where she slid your end into you slowly, with a care you could feel in your chest.

“Can I move?” You could hear the strain in her voice, she was desperate, that much you knew as her slick cunt was pressed atop of yours. She was also considerate, so even if she wanted to fuck you both into a state of bliss, she would wait until you’d adjusted to your longer side.

“Go ahead mommy,” you sighed, “I’m ready.”

Natasha pecked your lips, a silent thank you, before she pulled out, walls clenching around her end to keep it more sturdy as she rammed her hips back into yours. With every thrust her ability to hold her end dwindled, instead she began to let it remain anchored in your cunt while she chased her overdue orgasm down.

Seeing Natasha in such a state only drove you crazier, her hands held your hips in a bruising manner as she chased down what was owed to her without holding back. In an attempt to help you clenched hard and rutted up to meet her thrust down, and that seemed to do the trick. Natasha bit into your neck to conceal her screams of pleasure, and as her walls held the strap tight in their fluttering state she was able to throw you over as she was calming down.

The two of you moved together, helping to prolong the both of your euphoric states until you were whining due to sensitivity. Natasha nuzzled her face against the side of your neck, her tongue prodded at the drops of blood that were dribbling from the mark she’d just left. A soft wince came from you as she lathed her warm tongue over the marred skin to soothe it.

“You did so good for mommy,” she coo’d as her lips kissed a line up your neck until the slotted perfectly against yours. The taste of your arousal mixed with undertones of copper laced your tastebuds as she explored your mouth. It was a slow kiss until it wasn’t, a momentum picked up as her nipples brushed over yours, you could feel your walls fluttering around the strap again, but when her hips moved you felt more pain than pleasure, so you whimpered.

“Shh, it’s okay love,” she pressed a kiss to your cheek before nuzzling her face back into your neck, “Get some rest, you’ll need your strength for round two where mommy plans to ride your pretty little face, my precious built in throne.”

Natasha’s heart fluttered alongside your soft giggles, they were her favorite sound to elicit. While laying atop of you she can’t help but feel grateful that she gave you a chance, that she let herself love something more than her career. Because you’ve now opened her life up to a joy she never would’ve imagined possible, and one she couldn’t fathom living without anymore.

“Mommy,” you called out to her after a few minutes and she hummed tiredly, “Yes detka?”

“I feel like a pretty butterfly now,” you admit, your high clearly still lingering, “You are a very beautiful butterfly, now close your eyes detka.”

“I love you very much,” you whispered, and the redhead smiled, “I love you most Y/N.”

“Nuh uh,” you denied with a shake of your body that jostled the tired woman, “Go to sleep Y/N!” Natasha groaned, and you giggled wildly beneath her, “Oh God, you’re a total giggler.”

——

2,878 Words

Reader:

❤️ Kaitlyn 😏

[valkyrie1435atla]

@hannahhook7744 this was going to be another reply but it started getting too long, so here’s a bit of an explanation on Zuko’s situation.

I can’t always know if what I’m trying to portray in my comic gets across how I want it to, that’s a drawback of the comic format, I’m generally not able to include long, detailed paragraphs unless it’s in a format that makes sense in the context of the comic. (Yishengs Logbook for example.)

-SPOILERS(?) FOR PARTS 14, 17. OR NOT REALLY SPOILERS, JUST PLAIN EXPLANATIONS OF WHAT HAPPENED TO CLEAR ANY CONFUSION-

in Mortem Obire, we see a play-by-play of Zuko’s death and his time traveling from his own perspective, in his head. ‘Mortem Obire’ means ‘to face death,’ this is Zuko processing what happened to him. Azula’s lightning struck him, pain, blinding pain, and then it all stopped, and he was back on his ship. He is still reeling, though, every sensation is suddenly opposite, “it was loud, and it was burning-“ in a millisecond his whole world flipped upside down. “And suddenly it was quiet, and I was cold” Zuko is so disoriented from the switch he immediately collapses, slams head-first on the hard ship deck, and is sent back to the future. “And it was loud again, and I was burning again” He becomes stuck in this sort of in-between state, like a light switch you’re trying to balance in the middle, flickering on and off. “Someone called my name” Katara calls his name, Iroh calls his name. “I saw a pillar of light in the sky-I saw a comets trail in the sky” he sees both. “You ran to me” Katara ran to him, Iroh ran to him.

Iroh was holding him; he laid alone, bleeding out.

Iroh pulled him away, Zuko began to lose consciousness; he burned while watching Azula kill Katara.

He laid there in his dead, rotting body; he laid in a body that wasn’t his.

It all happens in Zukos head, though. In the present moment Iroh just asked him, “and then?” Zuko replies, “and then…” (Part 13) then falls silent for about 30 seconds. Iroh just stares at him, waiting for an answer. The flashback plays in Zukos mind, he starts to tremble and hyperventilate, Iroh calls out his name but Zuko cannot hear him. “Prince Zuko, can you hear me?!” The flashback ends and Zuko is pulled back to the present. etc. etc.

A Thankless Job is YiShengs (and partially Iroh’s) perspective of Zuko’s death and time traveling. (Obviously they don’t know that he died, they don’t know that he time traveled.) season one Zuko collapsed suddenly and for literally no reason at all, (they didn’t see the beam of light, there was no beam of light.) YiSheng and Iroh took him to his room, and he started seizing (“A seizure is abnormal electrical activity in [the] brain” (the Cleveland Clinic)). He was sort of awake for a few seconds at a time, YiSheng medicated him in a moment he could actually swallow, and then Zuko passed out completely. Iroh stayed by his side. It is important to note that there was no injury at first, and Zuko woke up a few hours later. Parts three, four, and five happen, Zuko has a brief conversation with Iroh, he still isn’t completely aware of the time travel, everything is very hazy. Iroh leaves, and the haze begins to clear. The lightning creeps back in, the scar starts to reappear on his chest and it grows and it burns and Zuko is burning burning fire fire I am melting from the inside I am dying. etc. etc.

In the revised version I am currently working on, remaking the first chunk of the story so far, these details (and many more) will all be displayed much more clearly. We will see Iroh’s complete perspective of the collapse first, followed by Zuko’s and Yisheng’s as has already been written. A short interlude of Jee’s perspective next?

Basically, Zukos injury carried over because he didn’t stay in the past when he first got blasted there. Everyone else in the gaang flipped once and that was that, the injuries that killed them stayed with the past timeline. Zuko’s did not. Just his luck, really.

[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 10

“The Only Place We’re Going Is To The Pharmacy”

You wake up in the morning, not even fully opening your eyes before realizing that you feel awful. As you haven’t heard your alarm yet, you assume you have more time to sleep before practice, so you close your eyes again. It doesn’t take long for unconsciousness to find you. 

The next time you open your eyes, it’s accompanied by a whining sound that you don’t remember making. You turn slightly to bury your head into the pillow, the light coming from the window only intensifying the pounding in your head. The persistent buzzing of your phone finally convinces you to turn your head, snatching your phone and answering it before pressing it to your ear. 

You don’t verbally answer, instead letting out a questioning hum. The voice on the other side sighs in relief, speaking indistinctly to someone else. 

“Liefje,” you hear a voice, instantly knowing it must be Viv on the phone, “you had us worried, you weren’t responding to any messages this morning. Anyway, practice starts in an hour, Beth and I are coming to pick you up. Are you ready?”

It takes almost a minute to comprehend what she said, and even longer for your sleepy, fever-riddled brain to develop an answer. 

“I don’t, I didn’t- what? Um, practice, yeah, get ready.” 

Your mumbling is interrupted by Viv. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” She asks, genuine concern evident in her soft voice. 

“Nothing, ‘m fine,” you insist, “be ready soon.”

“No, don’t get ready. Where are you, are you somewhere safe?”

“‘m in bed, just got up. Time for practice, gonna get ready.” 

“No, Pop,” Viv says softly but firmly. “You stay in bed, okay? Beth and I will be there soon.” 

“No, no, no,” you protest, “you gotta go to practice.”

“The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy. We’ll be there soon.”

You don’t fully process the words, but you hear the call end and your eyelids feel heavy. There’s no reason you can’t take a quick power nap, a few minutes of shut eye before you had practice would have you as good as new. 

—-

Soft voices and a cool hand on your forehead cause you to scrunch your face in disdain before cracking open your eyes. 

“Hello, Love,” you hear a voice say- it must be Beth- “do you think you can open those pretty eyes all the way for me?”

You really don’t want to, but you probably should. You could do it for Beth, mainly because if you didn’t she would get Viv. And although both women love you fully and think of you as their surrogate younger sister/daughter, Viv wasn’t afraid to give a little tough love. Beth, on the other hand, would try and sweet talk you into doing something and, if you still wouldn’t, she would pass you off to Viv. 

So, in an impressive feat, you open your eyes all of the way. Now you can see that Beth has climbed into the bed next to you, and that the pillow that your head is resting on is actually her lap. You can see Beth looking down at you with a look of mild concern, but you don’t see Viv anywhere. 

“Shh, baby, you’re okay,” Beth coos, noticing the feverish haze in your eyes as you become slightly confused and upset, “well done opening your eyes, thank you for doing that for me. Everything’s alright, you’re just a bit ill.”

Beth runs her hand through your hair, her fingers digging into your scalp. She could tell that your head hurt, and she could feel you relaxing under her ministrations. She continues, watching as your eyes begin to droop closed. But, not allowing you to get too close to sleep, she stops, instead resting a hand on your cheek and rubbing her thumb under your eye. You whine, a pout forming. 

“I know, darling, I know. Just stay awake for a few more minutes, Viv’s grabbing you some medicine. Then we’ll cuddle you back to sleep, yeah?” Beth’s voice is soft. 

You don’t fully process what she’s saying, but her tone is nice and you hear the promise of cuddles, so you go along with it. 

A moment later, there’s a quiet knock on the open door frame. You look over to see Viv entering, a tray balanced in her hand. She sits on the other side of you, the two women encapsulating you in a Y/N sandwich, and settles the tray onto the bed. 

“How is she?” you hear Viv ask Beth. 

Normally, you would have said something about how you can answer your own questions, but you don’t feel up to it. Besides, Beth’s hand is still rubbing your cheek and Viv’s hand not steadying the tray is scratching up your side. You’re perfectly content to soak up the attention and allow the others to do everything else. 

“She’s definitely sick,” Beth responds, “I can feel the fever burning through her. And she doesn’t seem fully with it, you know? I’m not sure if it’s the fever or if she’s still half asleep, but I’m not sure she should be alone.”

Viv nods, running her hand through your hair to get you to focus your almost closed eyes on her. 

“Hey, sleepy girl, I’m sorry you’re feeling so sick. I’m going to get your temperature and then I have some stuff for you, so we’ve got to get you sitting up, okay?”

You make a sound of disagreement, trying to burrow further into Beth. You hear both women chuckle slightly, before Beth reassures you. 

“I’ll hold you the whole time, no worries. I’ll hold you tight and Viv will fix you up, you can just rest.”

Reassured and too weak to protest, you allow Beth to pull you up. Once you’re close enough, she presses a kiss to your warm forehead. You’re sitting in between her legs, laying back against her chest as she leans against the headboard. You’re dizzy and your head feels too heavy, so you’re grateful for the way she moves herself to support your head. She uses her free hand to prevent you from moving your head, cupping your chin between her thumb and pointer finger.

This gives Viv easy access, allowing her to slip the thermometer into your mouth. The device beeps about a minute later, and she pulls it away gently. She looks at it, eyes widening before showing Beth the ‘39.2’ displayed on the screen. 

Beth pauses for a moment before speaking, “that’s alright, we can handle that. We’ll get some meds into her for now, and see how she does.”

“You’re right,” Viv agrees, “I don’t know if the medicine we have is strong enough to lower her fever as much as I would like, I might have one of the girls pick some up and drop it off after practice.”

Beth nods in agreement as Viv grabs the medication they have on hand. She dumps the appropriate number of pills into her hand, and deposits them into your mouth. She quickly follows it with a straw, watching with a small smile as you drink. 

Both women offer food, but you refuse adamantly. When they keep insisting, you roll over and hide your face in Beth’s stomach. Giving up, they agree to wait until a little bit later to get some food into you. 

They try to coax you into laying back down, but you have already made yourself comfortable against Beth and sleep is coming quickly. Viv moves the tray off of the bed, settling it onto the nightstand, and sits next to Beth. She wraps one arm around her girlfriend’s shoulder, and her other hand strokes the hair back and off your face. One of your hands remains where it had been gripping Beth’s shirt, but your other moves to rest on Viv’s leg. 

And, just as Beth had promised, the two cuddle you back to sleep. 

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Travel Troubles.

Prompt: Sick in an Inconvenient Place

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.1K

Summary: Sickness doesn’t care where you are. You get sick but your girls are there for you.

TW: vomiting

A/n I suck at grammar. So there are like three commas in this lol. Plus I typed it with one hand because I’ve hurt my other arm :(

Wanda had been begging you and nat for months now and you had finally caved. You were going to the beach for a few days. You were actually pretty excited to be spending some quality time with your girls so when you woke up the morning you were suppose to be leaving feeling like you had been punched in the stomach you groaned and shrugged it off. Luckily most of the day was going to be spent in the car.

Dismissing it as your usual cramps after your period you stuffed your duffle-bag into the car, opting for the backseat so you could starfish across the leather seats. All seemed well for the first two hours, the car seemed to be getting hotter though. And the pain in your stomach began to increase. Nausea set in around hour five. Curled up in the backseat in a ball Wanda shot nat a look.

<shes acting weird nat do you think shes ok?> she asked in Nat’s mind.

<if she needs us she well tell us>

<we both know that’s not true> Wanda shot back

You were in too much pain to notice the silent conversation. Your face pressed against the cool glass of the window. It was way too hot in the car.

“y/n/n what do you want for lunch, Natty’s getting us maccas.” When all she received was a groan she frowned. Being stopped at a red light Wanda unbuckled climbing into the backseat despite Natasha’s protests.

“y/n/n?” she asked running a hand through your sweaty hair. She frowned placing the back of her hand to your forehead. She gasped. “natty shes on fire” you whined when she pulled her cold hand away from your flaming skin.

“oh bug why didn’t you tell us you didn’t feel good sweets?” muttering something unintelligent you flopped against her. Chuckling slightly she pulled you closer.

“natty can you get her an ice water from maccas?”

“sure.”

Pulling into the drive through the nausea only worsened at the smell of greasy food. Wanda noticed the colour drain from your face. Rushing she seemingly pulled a sick bag from thin air with her magic, guiding it under your shaking chin as your breakfast reappeared. Nat tried not to frown at the gagging noises coming from the backseat as she ordered for the three of you. Asking Wanda if you were ok when she had finished ordering.

“I’m not sure natty shes a bit too warm for my liking and joined with the vomiting I don’t want her to get dehydrated. Did you order the water?”

“yes. We’ll keep an eye on her temp, I can stop of at the chemist for a fever reducer and thermometer if you like?” Wanda nodded her agreement chewing on her lip as she brushed back your hair as you laid against her thigh in a fever induced haze. She had used her magic to rid the bag of sick and had a fresh one on hand if you needed it again.

After a quick stop, nat returned with the goods and Wanda fed you the tablets passing the water to you and holding the straw to your lips. Your eyes were glazed and your body ached.

“oh sweetheart. You really don’t feel good do you love?” nat asked looking at your shaking body. You whined like a child in response too tired to form proper words. Wanda tapped your cheek, using her thumb to tilt down your chin and open your mouth. She slipped the thermometer inside and waited for it to beep. When it did she removed it guiding your head back to her lap before looking at the number. Wanda hummed her disapproval upon seeing the flashing screen.

“what is it love?”

“102.8 too high for our sweet angel hmmm” she ran her hands through your hair again, rubbing your back to help you rest.

“that doesn’t sound good baby.”

With about a half hour to go, your eyes flew open, Wanda startled by your sudden movement pulled you upright, shoving the bag under your chin just in time as what small lunch you had spilled down you chin. With a choked sob, you continued to throw up. “shhh baby your ok. Your ok” Wanda cooed, still holding the bag. When you stopped Wanda waved her hand replacing the bag with her magic and guiding you back to her lap where you fell back into a fitful sleepy fever induced haze. Wanda took your temperature again slightly happier with the number but it hadn’t lowered by much. It would be a matter of a cold shower when they reached the cabin. You were silent the rest of the trip there save for fevered mutterings and the occasional groan. When you finally pulled in, Wanda peeled you off her lap. Passing you to nat who held you bridal style as Wanda climbed out and unlocked the door. Heading straight for the shower you were stripped of your clothes whining at the ice cold air on your fevered and flushed skin. Wanda guided you to the shower practically holding you up as the water ran over you. Despite your struggling she didn’t once let go as she held you and nat washed your body clean of the sweat that had soaked your clothes.

“shh love its ok” she cooed stroking back your damp hair from your face

After the shower from hell, as you called it, nat and Wanda dressed you in fluffy

PJs before carrying you to the bed and putting the sick bag on the bedside table. Your girls snuggled up with you.

“what about the car. We need to unpack” you yawned.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it love your far more important.”

“plus I can use my magic to unpack it from here love” Wanda stated.

“okay” you sighed curling into Nat’s shoulder as Wanda wrapper her arms around you.

“goodnight sweetheart.” Nat cooed, stroking your hair back.

“night wands. night Tasha. Love you guys.”

“good night love. We love you too. Now sleep baby.”

Masterlist

[mrschristensen]

Kinktober Day 6 (10/06): Dry Humping starring Jacob

Kinktober Masterlist

WARNINGS: smut (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK), female s/o, dom Jacob/sub s/o, dry humping, quickie (kind of), lmk if I missed any!

synopsis: Jacob, after so many years of trauma and hardship, finds an actually escape and a release; but with a very unexpected partner.

WC: 498 words

One minute, Jacob was minding his own business, hazed by the regular opium. Then, a certain woman caught his interest when he saw her trot her way into town on her horse. She was dressed like some sort of ranger, or explorer, and it intrigued him. He’d never seen a woman with such a role. She was clearly pretty in shape, having a bit of a wider shoulder length and being stronger than most. But she was a natural beauty, and that caught his eye even more.

He ended up having a conversation with her, asking her (in the most respectful way possible) how she had come to be such a way, and what she did for a living.

“I’m a ranger,” she replied, not feeling offended at all, “I simply just… cruise around and look for work or hire.”

He couldn’t help but feel this unexplainable pull towards her, something he’s never felt before. He denied it at first, trying not to think with his dick, but it was a bit hard to when he was so unbelievable attracted to her. However, he suppressed it the best he could.

She explained she was just passing through, and that she was stopping to restock on some supplies. He asked what for, and she told him that the royal family in Xin Yun had sent out a distress signal. She was a good friend of theirs, so she was on her way to help.

And, before he could even consider, he offered to accompany her on the journey. He needed a bit of a scenery change, anyways. And, to his surprise, she agreed. Maybe just because she could probably tell he had some skills and some experience in combat. But, something nagged at him that there was a deeper reason.

They continued their conversation for a while, talked for what seemed like hours, until now. Now, he had her at his home, in basically the middle of nowhere, and they were grinding against each other, still fully clothed.

“We gotta be quick,” she gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly as his erection rolled against her fabricated pussy, sending shockwaves through her.

“I know,” he grunted lowly in response, grinding even harder against her, “just trust me.”

She moaned shakily, her head tilting back in pleasure as she felt herself nearing the edge. It was funny to her how she let him get to be this way with her so fast. She barely even knew him! But that wasn’t her main focus right now. She just knew something was different about him.

They continued for a few more minutes, noises of pleasure escaping both their lips, before they came in unison. There was a bit of a wet spot in Jacob’s pants, evidence of his intense orgasm, and he quickly cleaned himself and changed his pants before they headed out to resume their newly found mission. What they knew, for sure, this wouldn’t be the last time they’d be so intimate.

[ohmyo]

Tipsy Hold Challenge

We were out at the bar with some friends and after a few drinks we came home. I went to the bathroom pretty soon after getting home and when I got out I was handed another beer. I was ready to keep the buzz going and not long after he decided to make us some cocktails.

After my beer and just as I was finishing my cocktail I started to squirm. I was definitely a little drunk now and didn’t realize until now I really needed to pee. I don’t know if the seal is real or not, but if it is I had already broken it when we got back from the bar.

He noticed I was squirming and asked if I needed to use the potty again. I didn’t want to get up since things were starting to get fuzzy and the couch was so comfy. I whined that I didn’t want to pee and he said Good because you don’t get to. You went already, now you’re going to hold it. You’ve only had two drinks since you peed last your brain is just tricking you. You’re going to be good and hold it for me right?

I squirmed so much more hearing him say that. but I nodded. He told me that I should go make is another drink and so I went hoping the urges would pass as he said, it had only been a couple of drinks.

When I got back he had put on the show we had been watching and I got comfy. By the end of my drink I was feeling pretty good and I didn’t even question where the water bottle my boyfriend was handing me came from. I started to get up not thinking anything of it with my brain being so fuzzy, where are you going baby?

Then it hit me, he said I can’t use the bathroom. “I was going to pee, but I, um can I please go use the bathroom now? It’s been four drinks now and um a couple hours. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to hold all drunky”

You were going to the bathroom after I specifically told you no? Oh my! I thought you were going to get us more drinks. I don’t think I should let it slide that you weren’t following my instructions. Being drunk is hardly a good excuse for not listening to one simple request. I think you need to go get yourself two drinks for the next episode.

I was whining and rubbing my legs together as he talked. I wanted to be good so I went and got three drinks as he requested. I was feeling so full and I didn’t know how I would manage two more. I tried to get lost in our show, but my bladder was heavy on my mind. I was squirming while trying to drink my drinks wanting to be good. After a while I managed to get invested and relaxed and “AH”

Everything okay? “I um I think I may have leaked a little bit. It was getting a little hazy and” Oh no baby let me take a look, get up. There was a tiny little spot that you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know, but embarrassing regardless. With the leak taking me out of the drunk haze I was now very aware of how full my bladder was. Instinctively my hand flew down to help me hold as I was standing there helpless. “please can I go use the bathroom? I’ll do anything please”

Anything? I nodded aggressively not considering how this could get any harder. Hm well that is interesting. Maybe we should play a little game for your bathroom privileges. “a game?” Yes, I think that seems fair. We’ll make it an even game too. Let’s flip a coin, actually that’s boring let’s flip twice. Double heads you get to pee. Mixed we’ll wait 10 minutes and flip again. Double tails, hm, you’ll get on your knees and let me drain my bladder.

I let out a whimper both from being a little turned on by his dirty game and from thinking about the challenges in taking in any more fluid. “Thank you, let me go grab a quarter.” “tails, fuck” “no! again? what are the odds! please let’s flip again that was just a trail run”

The game has rules for a reason, sorry you lost, but not sorry enough. Come on get on your knees, I could really use a release.

“Yes sir” I got down as he pulled down his pants. His stream started fast causing me to moan and grab myself. This was making me need to go even more and I was starting to feel unsure if I would make it.

Mmmm much better thank you baby. Maybe you’ll be more lucky in 10 more minutes. I let out a big whine doing a very obvious potty dance at this point. Every minute felt like forever no matter how I tried to distract myself. The kissing might have helped a little, it did get me a little turned on when he used my mouth.

Tails I let out a little sob. Heads 10 more minutes beautiful. I did not know what to do with myself. I don’t know if I can make it. It has been a few hours, 6 drinks, his pee and I’m desperate.

Why don’t we move to the bedroom. Maybe laying down will be a bit easier for you. As soon as we got into bed the kissing started up again. With how drunk we were things started moving pretty fast and before I knew it all of our clothes were off. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than how much I wanted him inside me, but as soon as he pushed in I felt an immense pressure. Feelings of pleasure and discomfort coursed through my body. We were messy, sloppy, and I’m glad no one was near to hear us. It did not last long, but it felt amazing.

“I can’t believe my bladder didn’t surrender. That was so crazy.” You’ve been so good for me let’s flip again, hopefully you’ll be lucky this time. “Heads!” Heads! Go baby! Just hearing that I get relief made my bladder weaken. I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom feeling the first few drops fall before I could even sit down. Finally.