#ive been waiting so long for dresses that fit her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mintchoco-cream · 7 months ago

Text

♪ Unexpected Reunion ➴ Kim Chaewon x fem!reader

Warning ࣪ › Chaewon x fem!reader, hav4n!reader, wlw, foul words, mentions of depression

Prompt ࣪ › It's been 2 years since yn and Chaewon had "broken" up. 2 years since Chaewon flat walked out of yn's life. No explanation, no nothing. It led the girl to a deep spiral of self doubting and loathing.

Word count ࣪ › 2.49k

Yn has been waiting for her debut for 4 long years now. She struggled and worked hard to finally, finally have a chance at debuting, and it paid off! Her debut date was only 1 week away, and even though she and her bandmates had to prepare, their manager and staff decided that today would be a rest day. The calm before the storm.

Honda Hitomi, yn's bandmate, suggested meeting up with some of her old bandmates, the Iz*One members. Yabuki Nako, another one of yn's bandmates, smiled and loved the idea. Everyone else loved the idea just as much as the small girl did.

But blood drained from yn's face. She knew it was bound to happen— being bandmates with one of her past bandmates. Yn has heard of Iz*One's meetups before, so she expected it. But not this early!

She quickly thought of ways to avoid joining the meet up. An excuse or, or anything! Her thoughts were then interuppted by Hitomi.

"Hey, yn-unnie? Are you going?" The small blonde girl asked with a gentle smile, relieved that she had finally gotten her bandmates attention after multiple tries.

"U-uh.. I don't—" Yn rubbed her nape, unsure of what to say. But there was one thing she knew. There was no way in hell she was ever going.

"Pleaseeeee? Yn-unnie, come on, it's only for a while! Just to meet them! We might not get the chance to fully meet up again." Nako said with a pout, pulling on yn's hand. Everyone then started pulling out the classic "puppy dog eyes", trying to convince yn to come.

Yn looked away, but it was too tempting. As the oldest of the group, she knew she had to be there. Especially because she was their damned leader. She sighed, hesitantly accepting.

They all cheered, and started to prepare for the meetup.

All yn could do was sigh.

"Well, there's no getting out of this one now.." she quickly chuckled to herself, memories of their past, memories of her past with her, resurfacing after a year of healing.

The girl swore an hour ago that no way in hell was she ever going. And yet here she is, wearing her usual gray and white flannel, unbuttoned with a plain white tank top underneath. And cargo pants that fit the theme just right.

"Unnie, I know I told you to dress casual, but I didn't expect you to dress this casual!" Hitomi frowned, and Hayeon, yn's bandmate, laughed. "Atleast she wore a tank top and unbuttoned her flannel! I swear, this isn't the most casual yn-unnie can go." Everyone else in the group giggled in response.

"Here we are!" Yoona, the second youngest of the group, cheerfully said. "Atleast i think we are? This is the right adress, right?" Yoona looked at her unnie's and maknae dumbfoundedly. Nako laughed and nodded. The six girls then stepped out of the car, and started heading to the gate.

Jimin, the groups maknae, automatically clung onto yn, feeling a sense of safety whenever she was with the older girl. They all reach the door, and proceed to ring the doorbell.

A familiar face answers.

"OH MY GOD?! NAKO AND HITOMI UNNIE?! I THOUGHT YOU GUYS WEREN'T COMING I—" Everyone else in the house turned their heads. Especially the Iz*One members.

"Hiii, mind if we come in first and explain?" Hitomi hurriedly said, trying to de-escalate the situation before it started. The girl knew her ex-bandmates well, and if their bandmates were anything like them, then she knew that all hell would break loose if she didn't de-escalate it now.

Wonyoung, the girl who had answered the door, nodded, and let them in. Yn took a few seconds to scan her surroundings. The only people that seemed to be here was Eunbi, IVE, Yena, Yuri, Minju, Hyewon, and Chaeyeon. She sighed of relief. Thank god Le sserafim wasn't here.... yet. She'd be in deep shit if it was so.

Everyone else in the house had wide eyes, looking at the girls as if they were ghosts. Yn lined them all up, and they started their introduction.

They all bowed in unison, and started introducing themselves.

"Hi, I'm Choi Yn, the eldest and the leader of Hav4n." Yn smoothly finished her introduction, and looked at her bandmates, waiting for them to start.

"Hello, I'm Kang Hayeon, the second eldest of the group. I'm currently 24 years old." Hayeon, answered nonchalantly, giving off the cool vibes she usually does.

"Hi! I'm Kim Yoona, the second youngest! So cool that I finally get to meet you guys! Oh, and since unnie mentioned her age, i will to! I'm turning 20 this year!" Yoona, always the cheerful and loud kind of girl, excitedly introduced herself to everyone else.

"Hi.. I'm uh, Kim Jimin. It's really nice to meet you," Jimin says as she plays with her fingers. "I'm turning 18 this year."

The Iz*One girls paused for a little, and immediately started screaming.

"HITOMI HITOMI HITOMI!!! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE DEBUTING SOON?!" Chaeyeon loudly shouted, and everyone else just kind of joined in. After a few minutes of that shenanigans, everyone calmed down, and started to get to know eachother.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Yena went to go get it, and yn just sat there as she continued her chat with IVE's leader, An Yujin.

She looked around her surroundings a bit, thinking it looks a little familiar. A bit too familiar infact. She looks at a specific plushie, and stared at it. It just looked so familiar she couldn't brush it off. And that's when it hit her. That was the plushie she gifted Chaewon two years ago. If Chaewon's plushie was here then that meant,

"This is Chaewon's dorm. And the person at the door is probably them."

Five girls entered the already flooded house, and were shocked at the new people. Most were because they've never seen them before, but one was because she never thought she'd see her ever again.

Chaewon had finally arrived home. She knew Iz*One had wanted to host a party at their home for quite some time, and allowed it a few weeks prior. She had recently just finished practice and thought it would be good to unwind a bit. But she never expected her ex of all people to be here.

All of Hav4n got up and introduced themselves to Le serrafim, and shook their hands. Like at a fan greet. When it was finally time for yn and Chaewon to shake hands, Chaewon was hesitant, but yn showed no signs of sorrow, despair, or anything at all. It was as if nothing happened between them.

They shook hands, and everything else went as planned.

It was now 1 am. Almost everyone had gone home except Hav4n and Eunbi. The group and Eunbi decided to help tidy up and get everything in place.

After doing so, Hitomi realized Eunbi was way too intoxicated to go home alone, and offered if she wanted to go with them. But there was already no space for their drive home, and even though Hitomi had willingly said she wanted to stay and get home by herself, yn would never allow her bandmate to go home alone. Especially because she was already a well established idol. Who knows what could happen. Yn had chills just thinking about it.

So here she was, waiting outside of Le sserafim's dorm for her cab to arrive. She sat on their porch, and quietly prayed that Chaewon wouldn't stumbled her way outside and find her. But God other plans, apparently.

"...Yn? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be uh... home?" Chaewon asked, eyes blinking slowly.

"Uh... hello?" Chaewon was starting to get annoyed at the younger girl, but she held it in.

Yn rolled her eyes, and looked away. Chaewon felt offended, but she knew yn had a right. She knew she fucked up 2 years ago. 2 years ago, when she chose Le sserafim over her own girlfriend. It was fucked up, but she basically had no other choice. She needed to make money, and it had to be then.

"L-look I'm sorry—" Yn's head snapped towards Chaewon, anger filling her head, and heart. Chaewon, frightened by yn's sudden hardened expression, froze.

"Sorry? Sorry?? You seriously think a simple sorry could fix your wrongdoings Kim? You think you can fix what you did, with just a sorry?" Yn grit her teeth. She was seething. Does Chaewon seriously think she can make up for her mistakes with a simple sorry? Does Chaewon think she can make up for the year yn spent hating herself? Hating herself for something that probably wasn't even her fault?

Yn then stood up, "You think," The girl harshly pointed her finger onto Chaewon's chest, and pressed on it hard. "That sorry could fix the way you damage me? The way you left me all alone, when I needed you most? My bestfriend had just died Chaewon, and you chose to... leave me? Are you fucking crazy?" Yn was now close to tears, her anger and sadness clouding her brain. She was no longer sober. She was drunk on anger and despair. A side she hasn't let out for a long, long time.

"I–i just—" Yn cut her off by grabbing her chin roughly. "You what? You're sorry? You're sorry you left me alone and defenseless? Well awh, how sweet." Yn's jaw tightened, her dominating and angry gaze falling on Chaewon's sad and dejected gaze.

Chaewon could only look at yn with shame. The girl had a point, why did she leave? Money was something she could easily solve with yn's help. The girl had been convincing herself that she did "what she had to do". That delusion lightened the guilt she felt, and went with it for the past two years. Yn's words were a reality check overdue.

Chaewon held onto yn's arm, the arm that was currently holding her jaw. She pleadingly looked at the younger girl, softening her eyes. Yn felt like succumbing, no, fuck that, she wanted to succumb. But washing away the months of anger and depression was no easy thing to do. So she just suspiciously looked at Chaewon, resisting the older womans charm. Although she did however, soften her grip, allowing the shorter woman to talk.

"I know you're mad, you have every right. I just– I promise I'll make up for it, I'll make up for the two years I was gone." Chaewon lightly cupped yn's left cheek with her right hand, and stroke her fingers on the younger girls soft cheek.

Yn could no longer hold it in. The waterworks started flowing, and yn felt like she was breaking all over again.

Yn walked into her and Chaewons dorm, dropping her bag onto the kitchen stool upon arrival. She called out Chaewon's name, expecting the older girl to be home.

"Strange, why isn't she home yet?" Yn thought to herself. Maybe she was just busier today.

Yn spent the next 1 hour waiting for Chaewon to arrive, and when she didn't, the girl started worriedly calling people, asking where she was or if they knew where she was last at.

And that was when yn suddenly got a text message from "my love<3". It read,

My love<3

Let's break up.

Yn was confused. What does she mean "break up"? All yn could say inside was, "What the fuck?". The girl tried calling, texting, and was soon blocked by the number. Yn was in tears by then. Her whole world had suddenly gotten darker and less colorful.

She would barely eat for days, only when necessary or to stop the stomach pain. She didn't take baths for multiple days on end, and almost dropped out of her agency. She would blame herself, or constantly ask herself if it was her fault. It was unbearable to see someone so drained, so... lifeless.

Yn let the tears out. She screamed, she tried to thrash around, causing Chaewon to hug her. She tried to get away from the older womans grip. She was however, too strong for someone her size, and only had a little problem with keeping yn in place. Yn let out the words she had been holding onto for the past 2 years, finally able to let it out.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SAY SORRY AND I'D LET IT GO?! YOU THINK– Y–YOU t–think.. you.." Yn tried to scream and shout, but her energy was insanely low. It was 1 am, and she was too exhausted. So instead, after her 3 minute tantrum, she just stood in Chaewon's arms, reminiscing the smell of the older womans peach scent. The peach scented perfume she always used to buy Chaewon.

"Shhh... I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you, but we should get you tucked in, yeah?" Yn couldn't say or do anything else but nod. Chaewon gently smiled, and led yn to a house nearby. The second le sserafim dorm.

They both slowly entered the dorm, yn being supported by Chaewon. They soon reached Chaewon's bedroom, and the older woman slowly set the younger one down.

"Do you wanna take a shower or change? We could—" Chaewon was then cut of by yn.

"Why... why do you act like you care so much?" Yn looked up to face Chaewon, anger, doubt, sadness, and a hint of hope in her eyes. Chaewon's expression softened, and answered.

"Because I do care. Look, I know I was an asshole for just leaving you but, I'll explain the rest tomorrow." Chaewon sat down next to yn, and continued. "You can let your anger out tommorow, you can hit me, slap me, I don't care. Just.. relax for now, it's really late, okay?" Yn nodded, seemingly content with Chaewon's answer. They both faced eachother, faces unbelievably close.

Yn could feel Chaewon's hot breath, and almost held back. But it was just too tempting. Chaewon, her Chaewon. The Chaewon she's loved for multiple years, the Chaewon she's been hoping an apology from, the Chaewon right in front of her, with dishevelled hair, with pretty pink lipstick she wanted to ruin.

Yn knew she would regret this, but who cares? She leaned forward, hoping Chaewon would too. Chaewon got the signal, and immediately hopped in to take the opportunity.

After two long years, yn finally had another taste of Chaewon's lips. It had been far too long, yn thought to herself. They kissed for a few seconds, and pulled away for air. The connected their foreheads, and yn spoke.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"That depends. Do you still love me or not?"

Yn did not know whether she loved Chaewon. But what she did know, was that she was starting to give Chaewon a chance. She only hopes the older woman wouldn't fuck it up again.

So after much hesitation, the girl finally answered.

"Maybe."

#le sserafim #wlw #kpop #chaewon #chaewon x reader #gxg #chaewon imagines #le sserafim imagines #lgbtq #angst

250 notes · View notes

i-write-sometimes-maybe · 6 months ago

Text

Disobedient- Lady Lesso X Ever!FemReader (NSFW)

Synopsis: You’re a fun little ever, and Lesso can’t wait to play with you.

Word Count: 7.1k 🫣 (yes you read that right)

Warnings: SMUT, possible trigger warning as there will be blood mentioned, knife play, edging, edge play (cause, ya know, knives), kinda blood play, bratty reader, brat tamer Lesso, marking of many types, denial, coercion of admission of feelings 🤭 read it to see if there’s more😈. Also yes part of it is similar to my one shot ‘Celebration’ but since Ive been writing this for damn near a year I don’t care enough to change it. At least you know I wrote both 🥲

A/n: Everyone thank @pebbleswritessometimes for this oneshot cause literally a week ago I didn’t know when or if this would be finished soon, but they wanted and hyped me so they got it 🥰🫶🏻. Also, If you can’t tell, my motivation has been shot lately especially with smut, so this drags but I hope it’s good for you guys! I was trying to get this out a lot sooner than I actually did, my bad. I ended up getting a second job and been busy with both jobs as well as not having much motivation but then I quit said second job and continued to struggle with motivation, sorry it took so long lol hopefully the smut makes up for it. Also, yes, there’s a difference between edging and edge play!! Enjoy!

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

You were stuck at the white cloth-covered table, sitting basically by yourself. The table next to yours had a couple of Never girls, Dot and Anadil, but they seemed to be sitting by choice. At least, that's what you guessed after they shoved off two boys that walked up to them.

Sitting at a table by yourself at the first ever, Never-Ever dance was certainly not one of the things you had planned for tonight. You just wanted to dance.

You were looking around the ballroom, finding the drastic change in aesthetics amusing. The school was unified but that didn't mean the students didn't stick to what they know. The dance floor was separated into light colors and dark.

Only a few mixed at the tables, but the students kept quiet. Creating a strange feeling in the air.

Your eyes scanned the room. At first, you were looking for your partner, at least, that's what you told yourself.

But then your eyes landed at the front of the ballroom. The two heads of the once-separated halves standing side-by-side, the Deans. The Dean of Good was dressed in a light, poofy ballgown that made her look like a cupcake. While the Dean of Evil remained in her signature dark suit.

This time, it was accented with a deep royal purple ascot, taking you by pleasant surprise. But you could tell this was one of her nicer suits, it fits her a little better than the others. Not that you would know, of course. This is definitely the first time you've taken more than a second to look over the red-haired Dean.

But gods, the way she holds herself. The way she looks at everyone. The way you can practically see her thoughts as she glared at the Never-Ever PDA. The way she would throw her head back laughing at something you desperately wished came from you.

But that's the thing. You kept wishing for things. But as an Ever, you get your wishes, right?

But now, you wished you could watch her shrug off the blazer. To watch her roll the cuffs of her sleeves up to reveal those toned arms. How you wish her hand would wrap around your-

You cleared your throat as if you've been caught red-handed, and you might've. You caught her eyes on you. They lingered longer than a simple look should've. But you're imagining things, now. Maybe a Never spiked the punch you were currently nursing.

'I think I'm mentally cheating. How could I be so disobedient.?'

She smirked at you, it couldn't be at you, right? Right? There's no way she knows what you're thinking. Her eyes landed on you once again, and she did a once-over on you.

And in that moment, you suddenly wished your outfit choice was good enough. You steered away from the baby pinks and champagne colored dresses that all the other Evers wore. Deciding on a royal blue floor length gown that fit to you perfectly but also complimented your skin tone. You thought you were being risqué with the slit that went straight to your hip, but as Lesso's eyes seemed to linger there for a moment, you knew it was a good choice.

You knew you shouldn't, you have a boyfriend.

Boyfriend! That's right, yeah. What was his name again?... Of course, you didn't forget your own boyfriend's name. Your mind certainly isn't occupied with the Dean, of course not. You definitely weren't dating him only to maintain the 'perfect Ever' appearance, nope.

You couldn't help it, her eyes are oh so enticing.

'I think I shouldn't be lookin' in those eyes. Why do they give mе butterflies?'

You took a second to try to find your boyfriend -unaware your thoughts were heard and the dean was barely biting back a smirk- your eyes rolling as you see him entertaining a group of Ever girls. Unconsciously, your eyes went straight back to the fiery-haired Dean. Who, to your surprise, was walking straight to you.

You wouldn't admit that your stomach dropped a little and you got nervous.

She stopped just a few feet from you, "You can't seem to keep your eyes off me, can you little one?"

You decided to hop onto some suddenly present charismatic boldness, you chuckled a little bit and stood to come face-to-face with her, though she was a couple of inches taller than you.

"It's hard not to when you're the best looking person in this room." It was wrong, you both knew that. She's the Dean and you are technically a student. But if it was so wrong, why does it feel so right?

You were well over age, being late to the start of your own story. It was late enough that you thought you'd not get the chance to go to the school and get your own fairytale.

Your heart skipped a beat as she took another step towards you, you never thought she'd be this close to you, especially in front of everyone else.

"I guess I could say same about you, Dove." Her head tilted slightly as she took the opportunity to examine you closer. Something igniting within her once she saw just how revealing your dress was, never mind the low-cut neckline.

You smirked, "Like what you see, do you?"

A humor-filled chuckle escaped her, and you yearned to hear it again, "My, my, what a bold little Ever. How cute." She wouldn't admit that she was honestly a bit surprised by the dress you chose, or that she secretly loved it.

"What? Haven't met anyone that isn't afraid of you?" You had no idea where this confidence of yours came from, but you didn't mind.

She fully chuckled this time, not expecting these remarks to come from you. But again, she did love it.

She started walking towards you, and you started walking backwards. You weren't afraid, that much was clear, but you did want to be away from the near-center of the room. You had no idea if anyone was watching, but you couldn't care less if someone was.

Luckily, your spot in the ballroom wasn't too far from the edges.

She licked her lips, a move that you wanted to watch on repeat, "Perhaps not, but this is going to be fun."

You only stopped moving backwards once you were sure you were at the back of the ballroom, your back hitting the wall being the dead give away, "Oh? I do hope you're not expecting me to just give in and fall to my knees for you." You spoke softly as her body continued to infiltrate your space.

"Oh, you'll be on your knees, pet."

You pulled her by the lapel of her suit, "You're going to have to make me, if you want anything from me." You smirked, tilting your head this time.

"You, my little one, are trenching in great waters."

"Well, luckily, I can swim."

She smirked again at your antics. Oh, she was gonna have fun.

"You really have no idea what you're getting yourself into, do you?" Though Lesso kept her tone, she was being genuine.

"I'm sure you'll enlighten me." You plastered on the most sickly-sweet smile, one that Lesso couldn't wait to taste.

She remained silent, whether is was to think about what she was about to do or to think about what to say, she leaned forward and placed her hand on the wall next to your head.

You took this little moment as a chance to show her what you've got, that you're not one to be underestimated, "Tell me where you want us to go. Tell me, and I'll take you there." She raised her eyebrow at this, enthralled by the possibilities.

"Oh? So, if I say, take me to the gardens, you could do that?" She wanted to believe you, but teleportation is unheard of in the fairytale world, and especially from a student.

You stayed silent, looking into her eyes as you swiftly took hold of her other hand that was placed atop her blazer buttons. Lesso hardly had enough time to react, let alone speak, until she realized that you had taken you both to the gardens.

A big part of you was relieved at finally being alone with her. But you watched as she processed that you could teleport.

Before she had the chance to say anything, you spoke first, "It's not all I can do," You were proud of yourself, and you didn't try to hide it either.

She looked back at you, a new look swirling within her eyes and she hummed, "Really, care to share?" She tried to keep her teasing, uninterested tone but she was curious and it showed.

You fake pondered for a second, "Only if you earn it." You finished off with a smirk, knowing that you weren't necessarily hiding anything.

She chuckled again, filling your stomach with butterflies, "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

She could see something unknown within your eyes, "You've got no idea."

She took another step closer to you, your fronts almost completely connected by this move of hers, and she used her pointer finger to push your chin up a bit more, "Well, I'm sure I can figure it out."

You grabbed the top of her shirt that was just under the ascot and used the material to pull her down and closer to you, close enough to smell the scent of whiskey that she probably thought she could hide, "And if I'd rather show you?"

Something overcame Lesso at that move, she wasn't sure what it was but her self control seemed to have dwindled to nothing. Excitement continued to do nothing but fill her, and couldn't wait to see just how much innocence you lacked.

Her eyes went to your lips for a moment before they flicked back to your waiting eyes, "Then show me, Dove."

That was all you needed to pull her even closer and connect your lips with hers, it was something that you both had clearly been waiting for. Gods, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't pictured this moment, and it was even better than imagined.

You moved your arms to wrap around Lesso's neck, pulling her nearly impossibly closer to you. In that moment was when her hands went to your hips as well, slightly squeezing once her hands settled in their spot.

You took this opportunity to take her somewhere else, you certainly wouldn't be complaining if she took you bare in the gardens but you'd prefer to not have the whole school witness such a thing. You took the both of you back to your room.

You lucked out, being such a late comer to the school got you your own room. And you were more than thankful you had just cleaned it.

Lesso pulled back from your lips, not only to catch her breath but to see where you've taken the both of you. She hid her impressed features once she looked from your quaint room back to you. She was unsurprised when she saw the proud look on your face being combined with your very obvious lust.

As your tongue peeked out to wet your lips -to taste Lesso once more- you noticed how her eyes instantly followed the action. So, you played into it, slightly pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Once you saw Lesso swallow the lump in her throat, you knew what effect you had on her. You thrived on the reactions she had to you. The subtle way her eyes narrowed at your smart mouth remarks, the way her pupils dilated every time you did, well, anything.

"You know you can look and touch right?"

Lesso sucked her teeth, "I am touching you, pet." She raised her eyebrow in challenge, seeing as her hands were still on your waist from the kiss.

The corner of your mouth twitched in attempts to hide your smirk, knowing that if you challenged her just enough she'd come to her limit and take you right then and there.

"But not in the way we both want you to," You started. "You're not, holding back are you?" This time you didn't hold back your smirk.

Her grip on you noticeably tightened, "I'll tell you this once, pet. Strip for me. Now." Her face remained stoic but you saw the amusement in her eyes.

You wouldn't admit just how her tone had affected you, causing your wetness to increase tenfold, "And if I don't?" It was redundant to say, you would've done anything she asked, but still not without a little bit of a fight.

Lesso summoned a blade, moving the very tip to the top hem of your dress, right in between your breasts. You knew it was sharp with the way the edge caught the light.

In a flash of movement, she pulled the blade down causing the dress to be cut in half once it connected with the pre-existing slit on your hip and fall right off your body.

"I liked that dress." You spoke near breathless.

"I gave you a chance."

Her other hand slowly snaked from its place on your waist, up across your abdomen. Her hand continued between your breasts, but it didn't linger there.

Her hand went on past your cleavage and up to your neck, her hand moving to wrap around your throat. You managed to hide the whimper that threatened to escape you as she applied pressure.

She leaned towards your ear to whisper her words, "I'm going to fuck that attitude out of you."

"Are you going to do that any time soon, or should I get myself started? I mean, you're making a lot of promises for someone that's yet to prove anything." You very well knew what you just started, and you couldn't wait.

Lesso's jaw clenched at your words.

"Oh, my little Dove, I'm going to break you." She spoke with a wicked simper.

"Then break me." You had the faintest of smirks on your face, eyes half-lidded as you spoke.

She started pushing you back by the hand that was still on your throat. Though it was quiet, it was clear that your chest started heaving from excitement. She moved her hand only long enough to push you down on your bed. A soft 'umph' coming from you at the contact.

The only light in the room was from the moonlight streaming in through your open window, but it was enough light to see her eyes darken as they roamed over your nearly naked form.

You couldn't help but take your bottom lip between your teeth as you could practically see her ideas raging through her mind as her head tilts the slightest bit. You were overwhelmingly ready for her to take you, in any way she saw fit, if the now-ruined panties you still adorned were anything to go by.

You watched with a bated breath as she slowly stalked her way onto the bed with you. You tried to resist the fidgeting of your hands as she took her time straddling you.

Her knees came up to rest by your ribcage, your breathing not resting at all as she practically ignored you as she begun twirling the blade once again. She watched as the edge caught the limited light, only watching you through her peripheral.

Her signature head tilt returned, "You're so pretty. But, I'd bet anything that you'd be prettier with tears streaming down your face as you beg me to let you come."

"You're more than welcome to find out."

She let her wicked smirk come back to her face, she loved to play the game of cat and mouse, especially with you being her delectable prize.

Your whole body reacted as she leaned over you, lightly tapping the tip of the knife against the bulging artery of your throat. Your head instinctively tilted back to give her all the room she may want.

She slowly began dragging the blade down your sensitive skin, only enough pressure to leave a slightly itchy feeling but not enough to draw blood, yet. Your excitement continued to grow with each inch she dragged the blade.

"My beautiful pet," She started.

"Yours, huh? News to me." Lesso looked to your face just in time to watch you wet your lips.

"Don't think that you won't be mine, not after I'm done with you." She was beginning to get a little irritated with your insubordination, it was obvious in her tone.

You readjusted the strap of the bra that had managed to dislodge itself from its spot on your shoulder while being shoved to the bed, "Is that another promise?"

The blade moved from your collarbone, swiftly moving to the center panel of your bra, and in the time it took for you to blink, Lesso had sliced through it. The fabric was in half and it caused the cups to fall to the side, rendering the garment useless.

"Hey! That was my favorite one... It was expensive."

"Oh, was it? How evil of me. Maybe you can earn yourself a new one."

A displeased huff came from you but Lesso wasn't paying attention, now fixated on your body. The very same body that you couldn't bring yourself to look at in the mirror for too long without finding a list of things you wanted to change.

Her silence while observing you brought forth all the insecurities you had, and you instinctively moved to cover yourself.

"What do you think you're doing?" Lesso gripped your wrists and moved you away from your chest, only once she had your hands pinned above your head did she see the uncertainty in your features, "You don't get to hide yourself from me, this is all mine."

"I am my own, I belong to no one but me."

"Oh, my pet, we shall see how long you believe that."

Lesso bent further over you, her lips connecting to the slight cuts that were only just starting to become visibly irritated on your skin. Her tongue peeked out, causing a delicious sensation once she swiped over the superficial slice.

A breathy moan type noise left you and Lesso just couldn't wait to hear more, to make more come from you.

Her tongue continued down your chest and she latched onto a spot on top of your breast, beginning to leave a mark.

You may fight with her about being hers (for now) but she'll make it clear you're not available. The idea of seeing you covered in all the marks she could possibly leave on you, just had her itching to leave more.

And so she did.

She left another love bite on your sternum beside the now puffy cut on your chest.

Lesso was moving almost painfully slow, but that wasn't without effort. It was originally in efforts to make you writhe and beg. But now? The slow movement of her marks and tongue, it was in efforts to savor you. To get the chance to memorize the taste that's distinctly you.

It felt like minutes before she moved her lips again, only now connecting them to your nipple. Though it was hushed, a proper moan finally escaped you.

Her fingers grazed across your bare torso as her tongue swirled around your nipple, the sensation causing an eruption of chills across your skin which didn't go unnoticed by the redhead.

She finally moved onto your neglected nipple, instantly hardening the moment the tip of her tongue came into contact with it. You fought the urge to tangle your finger into her fiery locks.

You couldn't let her win that easily.

Only once you released a breath did Lesso manage to pull herself from you, before she lost herself.

"Gods, if I had known you look and tasted this good, I would've made you mine sooner." Her nails scraped up your ribcage.

You ignored the butterfly eruption in your stomach, a scoff would've came from you if you weren't so focused on the feeling of her, "I am not yours."

She looked from the marks forming on your skin to your face, "Really? It seems you're convinced."

Just as you opened your mouth to agree that you were, in fact, convinced, you felt the blade drag across your stomach. Instead, a stuttering breath came from you.

"What was that, Pet? I didn't quite hear you." Her words were empty, you both knew what she was doing.

You wouldn't let her off that easy.

But what you didn't know is she knew your refutal would come, so as your mouth opened once more to argue her tongue swiped up the blood that began to bead from the fresh cut above your navel.

Finally, finally, she got to hear a true moan of yours.

Your head pressed back into the mattress and your body instinctively arched towards her and the sensation she was providing.

She peaked up to see your eyes closed with bliss, "You taste addicting on the inside and out."

You looked up to see one of the best sites there is. Lesso's hair was slightly disheveled, her pupils blown wide, a little bit of your blood still present on her bottom lip.

The urge to pull her into a kiss, to know what you taste like on her lips was overwhelming. Almost too compelling...

"I'm still waiting for you to fulfill your promise." Your comment was breathless but you hoped it still held the snap you wanted it to.

Her eyes never left yours as you saw her lift the blade again, slicing off the excuse of an undergarment in a quick move.

You'd be a damned liar if you said you're not entirely enthralled by what's to come.

Her lips continued from your navel, grazing over your hip bones. Of course she would continue to tease the living hell out of you, her lips never quite going where you wanted them to.

Another mark was left on the very top of your thigh, her fingers just slightly brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your other thigh.

She was so close, so close to where you were almost quite literally aching for her.

It was almost to the point of begging, almost. Your hips involuntarily thrusted to get her where you wanted.

You knew very well that if anything slightly resembling a beg left your lips, she would win whatever little rendezvous was going on and you couldn't have that.

But to your absolute pleasure, it wouldn't come to begging. Yet.

Just as you felt the slight of her breath on your throbbing clit, your head lulled back entirely too ready for what this woman would do to you.

The moment her tongue met your clit, your bottom lip went between your teeth as not to reveal how desperate you were. Your hand instantly moved to the sheets below you, knuckles turning white as her pace went from torturously slow to almost enough.

Your thighs parted even further to allow more of her to be closer to you.

"Oh, fuck," One of your hands left the bed and almost entangled itself in Lesso's hair, but that was before you caught yourself.

Part of you wanted to believe that this was so you'd win the game. But the part of you that you were ignoring was thinking it was so you wouldn't actually get lost in the redheads presence.

But what you didn't know was that the redhead had felt the way your fingers just grazed along her shoulder, and she wanted to feel more.

You could tell that her repetitive movements were bringing you closer to the peak of pleasure, the tightness in your stomach was starting to become distracting.

Lesso could've sworn she could taste how close you were, if the way your thighs twitched was anything to go by. She gave it just a moment more, another moment for you to think that you were actually about to get what you wanted.

But that moment would soon come and go.

Just as you were about to voice your closeness to the edge, all movements and sensations stopped.

Part of you knew to expect this, but that didn't mean you wouldn't be annoyed.

Lesso was no longer biting back her smirks, especially when your groan of annoyance escaped your lips.

"What was that, pet?" She gave a slight nip to your inner thigh. "I didn't hear you."

"Fuck, Leo," If you weren't so focused readjusting your head on the pillow you would've seen Lesso swallow at the moment her name left your mouth.

She wasn't expecting how breathless and perfect it sounded, leaving her a little bit shocked if she was being honest. But while she was honest, she wasn't even aware you knew her first name.

In her state, she didn't hear what else you said. With the slightest shake of her head, she knew she couldn't dwell any longer.

To your dismay, she moved away from your dripping pussy. Her lips slowly trailing back up your torso.

She left more love bites where there was room, slowly easing herself to hover above you.

She licked her lips as she felt your body erupt with chills as she was finally level with you, choosing to not say anything about it this time.

Another mark left on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder before she moved to speak directly in your ear, "If you want to cum, you know what I want." She said too cool and composed for your liking.

You fisted the fabric of her blazer, trying to pull her closer, "And I've told you, if you want it from me then you make me."

A deep chuckle came from her, as if she knew something you didn't, and she sat up once again.

Her eyes never left yours as she slowly pulled the blazer off, making a show out of it.

The only way you'd be able to describe her movements was entrancing. The way she swiftly undid the buttons of the blazer and tossing it somewhere you weren't paying attention to. You weren't even sure if you blinked as you saw her take off the waistcoat next.

The only thing you were sure of is how badly you wanted her to keep taking things off. To see what she's been hiding from you this whole time. To see if she's as toned as you imagined...

Her smirk returned, "Pet, if you want the shirt off you only have to ask."

Your eyes rolled back once you processed what she said, "Telepath..."

Gods if you could've seen the cocky smirk on her face, you would've been much more turned on. If that was even possible.

You didn't even want to dwell on the amount of times and things she's must've seen in your mind. And none of them were innocent. Luckily you looked up, flushed cheeks and all, in time to see her unbutton her top.

You had involuntarily laid your hands on her thighs, watching her as she's straddled above you. Slowly, more of her was revealed to you, feeling your mouth go dry and the throbbing in your ignored cunt strengthening.

You simply couldn't look away. Her pale skin was toned, each muscle having its own definition. She may not be the most chiseled sculpture but you'd still swear she was one of Michelangelo's works.

"You staring, pet."

"That, is no one's fault but yours." You spoke, still breathless, as you looked back in her viridian eyes.

The game was temporarily forgotten, desire had overtaken all actions from you both.

Her lips rejoined at the base of your neck, adding more fuel to your inextinguishable flame.

You simply couldn't help it anymore, one of your hands finally tangled itself in her fiery locks like you desperately wanted to do ages ago while the other went to her now bare side.

And gods was it diminishing the last of Lesso's control, the sensation of your touch was almost overwhelming. The feel of your breath on her neck was nearly making her head spin.

She once again moved downwards, going slowly as a way to regain her thoughts, but to you it was a way to get you to squirm.

And, it worked.

Your need had built up enough before she took away your bliss.

You may have given into your need to feel her, but you still wouldn't beg.

Your hips lifted from the bed, but not for long before her hand had pinned them still once again. You couldn't help but groan.

Yes, you were antsy. Yes, you desperately wanted to be taken and completely destroyed but you were not about to say that out loud.

You'd fight to win this forsaken game if it killed you.

And, it just might.

Her lips lingered on your hip bone, so close yet so far from where you needed her.

Lesso's eyes peered up your tense body, loving to discover new things about you. She loved how your brow furrowed as you focused, how your fingers fidgeted in place until you could decide where you wanted them.

Lesso simply loved to play with you, to get you to writhe and moan. She had discovered a new favorite thing.

And speaking of moans, a soft one rippled from your lips as her fingertips slightly grazed your clit. A whispered curse involuntarily left you as she finally provided some sensation to your needy and abandoned clit, pausing just as her pace speeds past excruciating to run just along your folds.

A stuttering breath left you this time, knowing that this tease was the ultimate move for her. That this is her play.

"Something you want to say, pet?"

You bit your bottom lip, merely an attempt at withholding your whimper, and shook your head. You were desperate, desperately hoping she'd continue but quicken her pace.

Again, Lesso wouldn't say it out loud but as much as she loved seeing you twist and turn with desperation, she wanted to see what you looked like when you come. To hear the symphony that is your moans. She wanted to know if you'd grip her tight as you came undone or push her and the stimulation away because she knows once she gets a taste she'd never be satisfied by anything else again.

Lesso's thoughts were interrupted as a louder moan coming from you.

Your back arched and mind went empty as her fingers suddenly and easily slid into you, your arousal causing no resistance.

"Oh, fuck-" Your head began to lull back once she finally began moving her fingers.

The pace was just as steady as her previous ones, not trying to work you too quickly, but the new sensations were welcomed.

"More, I need more." Your hand flew to the red locks, trying to get more of something, anything.

Lesso was tempted to have you beg like the desperate little whore you were, but she'll take that, for now.

Her pace increased ever so slightly, only enough for her to see the way your face contorted with desire and need.

Just as you were about to repeat your previous statement, she added a third finger. Stretching you just enough to have a mind fuzzing pleasure start to build.

Lesso decided now was the time she'd like to commit to memory, the way your hips thrusted to keep pace with her fingers, how your back arched off the bed in search of more. How you sound, all. Because. Of her.

Lesso was sure to stay consistent, knowing your desperate self was beyond ready for release.

She merely needed to wait for it.

"Fuck-" Your words came out rushed and desperate.

"Awe, does my pet want to cum?"

"I'm not your pet." You quickly realized and spoke on your autonomy.

Then, it all stopped.

The slow incline to the edge, the glorious way she filled you, the way your body urned for more. All of it. Gone.

Your breaths came out rapid and broken, "Oh, fuck me."

"Well, I'm trying, but you're making this awfully difficult for yourself."

"Me?!" Your head collapsed against the pillow at the audacity.

She moved herself away from you, "You already know what I want from you, pet."

A scoff came from you, knowing you won't give in that easy, "What? Think I can't take it? You think I'll just give in, just like that? Cute." You looked back in her eyes, a glimmer of frustration beginning to gather.

You smirked inwardly, knowing that the game is working in your favor.

Her head tilted a little, "Oh, you can take it, can you? You can handle all I can give you?"

"Oh, do tell me that wasn't your all, now..." Your delicious simper filled Lesso with the need to make you eat your words.

More than joy filled you as her fingers slid back into your pussy, only now she was moving at the fastest pace she's done all night.

A near guttural moan came from you at the sudden move of hers, no building or waiting necessary.

Lesso still hadn't spoken, but as her free hand slowly snaked up your body, only pausing for a moment to leave a quick pinch to your right nipple.

Just as your brain processed the sudden sharp sensation, her hand wrapped around your throat. Your head tilted back as automated response to her touch.

Just as she squeezed, a small mewl came from you as her pace didn’t ease. Her fingers continued to pound into you harshly, causing you to get closer and closer to the edge of pure bliss.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to play with me?” Her voice lowered, no pleasure lied behind it then, it was almost dark. And as you saw her sharpened glare you wanted to be afraid, but something about Lesso makes it impossible for you to be afraid.

She chuckled lowly as your arousal increased at her words, “Pathetic.”

The pure pleasure she was giving you, the delicious look she had, the tone of her husky voice, it was just enough for you to come close.

And Lesso knew it. She could feel it.

But you wouldn’t.

Again, everything stopped suddenly.

Her hand left your pussy, as the grip on your throat loosened enough to hear a pathetic cry escape.

Okay, you thought you can handle it. But when she overloads your senses with nothing but the feeling of her, it becomes difficult to not give in.

Your eyes closed and your bottom lip went between your teeth as an attempt to keep yourself together.

Your hand reached up to hold onto her wrist that was homed around your throat. Maybe as a way of grounding, definitely as a way to keep some feeling of her on you.

Barely a moment passed before Lesso spoke up, "You're mine, say it." Her tone left no room for discussion.

"I belong to no one." Your voice however, was weak and low.

"Then you'll continue to be denied, entirely on you." A beat, two beats. You knew that you couldn't keep denying it, and not just because you wanted to come.

A stuttering breath, then a sigh, “I’m, yours. I belong to you.” It was no question, you both were aware of this fact before this rendezvous started. Something was so delectable about playing the game first.

She had the most aggravating smug smile on her face, and it looked so good on her. Damn you, damn it, damn her. You wouldn't take it back even if you wanted to. You were hers. Irrefutably, irrevocably, undeniably, completely hers.

She didn't have to say anything about how pleased she was with your admission, she knew it all along, her smile said it all.

Your chest was still heaving, trying to catch some of the breath Lesso stole from you, when she crawled on top of you once again. She straddled you like she had many times in the night, lightly tracing her nails over the marks she's made. She admired the discolored hues her love bites started to take on, loved seeing how your sensitive skin reacted to the slight edge of the blade, how your skin is adorned with marks from her nails all over.

She just couldn't get enough of the sight of you. All marked up by her, marked up where everyone can see, marked to show that you've been claimed.

But then, it hit her. You weren't technically marked by her. Oh, that just won't do.

She reached back over for the previously abandoned blade. Unconsciously twirling it once again between her fingers, an unknown habit of hers.

Where to put it? Where-to-put-it? She thought to herself, still silently looking over your tired and marked up form.

You simply laid there, you knew she was thinking of something, but you knew you'd find out soon enough.

And soon it was.

Not more than a moment after your thought, a hum came from the redhead and she leaned over you.

"This may hurt, but I'll make it quick." She spoke just as the tip of the knife cut into your skin.

'Fuck...' You thought as your mouth opened with silence.

The pained pleasure was the most mind spinning feeling you’d had felt to date.

The tip of the blade slicing through your delicate flesh.

And soon enough, a perfect “L. L” was carved right above your left breast.

A perfect marking that left no room for interpretation, you were now and forevermore, hers.

You, belonged to Leonora Lesso.

Both of your hands fisted her hair as her tongue swiped over the wound to clean you of the mess you were making.

Your eyes would’ve rolled to the back of your head at her move had they been opened.

“Please…” The slight tug in her hair was enough to tell Lesso everything she needed to know.

“What, begging already?”

“You’ve already won tonight, there’s nothing else for me to lose but one more thing for me to gain.” Your hips thrusted up enough for her to get the message.

And in that moment, Lesson realized it was time to keep her part of the bargain.

Her lips and tongue slowly moved south once more, exploring every part of you she could on the way.

She skipped past your navel, knowing that this would be the time you get what you wanted.

Gods the moment her lips came back into contact with your clit, you could’ve sworn you could come right then and there.

“Oh, fuck Leo, just like that.” Your hands never left her hair, nor eased on the grip.

Lesso would be a damned liar if she said she wasn’t entranced with the way your voice was breathless, or with the way her name simply rolled off your tongue.

Her pace increased on your clit while she brought her fingers back to your desperate pussy.

“Oh, fuck!” Your back arched off the bed and your grip in Lessos hair was a welcomed pained pleasure for her as it got even tighter.

You both knew you wouldn’t last long with the speed and expertise Lesso was using on you.

You were rapidly approaching the peak of bliss, feeling light headed as it was already and you haven’t even crossed the threshold yet.

“Leo, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

The swirling of her tongue on your clit pausing only long enough to speak, “Yeah? Does my pet wanna cum?”

“Yes! Yes, I wanna cum!”

No other words came from Lesso but her lips once again wrapped around your clit. Along with the swift swirling of her tongue, she pared it with new suction.

The newfound pleasure caused white to appear in your vision, your overwhelming sensitivity becoming known.

Just as Lesso slightly curled her fingers, you were there. A near scream-like moan and the cinching around Lessos fingers told her you were there.

You came, and you came hard.

Lesso’s name fell from your lips like a mantra, being spoken over and over and over again.

Lesso got her answer as you started to use your grip in her hair to pull her from you.

The sensitivity was nearly unbearable and Lesso wasn’t easing up.

She knew you’d have to pry her away from you.

The pure taste of nothing but you was a craving she didn’t know had to be satiated.

Your hands finally relaxed enough to moved from Lesso’s hair to her jaw, now pulling her up to face you.

You still hadn’t caught your breath but you didn’t let that stop you from pulling the redhead in for a kiss.

Her hands moved to be resting on your waist, choosing to deepen the kiss.

Your body was weak but you needed a taste of Lesso too, even if it was a sample.

She was pliant in your hands, moving in any way your slight touch nudged her too. Your lips slowly moved down her jaw, the bliss causing her to briefly close her eyes.

You continued further down, reaching her neck and beginning to leave a mark right on her pulse point, "Only fair if I get to leave my mark too. Wouldn't want anyone else to think they've got a chance, now do we?"

You could feel the way her chuckle left her throat as your lips moved along her skin.

You were sure to make it worth while, leaving a bright large mark where it couldn’t be obviously hidden.

Sure, it was meek in comparison to the marks and cuts she’s left on you, but you like to think it’s the thought that counts.

Lesso pulled back a bit, and just as you were admiring your work, she was admiring you.

Neither would speak of it but this mutual liking, no infatuation, no no love, would be the center of a new universe.

Her eyes glanced down and a proud smirk rejoined her features.

“I’ll get a rag to clean you up, stay here.” She reluctantly climbed off you to grab a rag, finding it surprisingly easy to maneuver in your space.

Your voice was still soft, partly hoarse from the previous activities, “Not like I can go far right now.”

You yearned at her genuine laughter at your comment, knowing you’d gladly get to hear it again.

She came back with a water bottle and a rag, “I’ll be sure to ease up on you next time.”

And with one simple sentence, one small act of kindness, you and your heart smiled.

Next time.

Again, you were hers. Irrefutably, irrevocably, undeniably, completely hers.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @hxzxrdous @sgelessoanddoveykissing

Lmk if you wanna join the taglist! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

359 notes · View notes

ginnsbaker · 9 months ago

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (15/?)

Part Summary: You and Leigh go on your first date, and nothing goes as planned.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 10.700+ | Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Smut | Author's note: The date chapter is finally here! It's basically Leigh and R getting to know each other. But beware of the tags ;) Thank you for being so patient! Please enjoy :) Only one or two more chapters to go!

Your mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ as you come, Leigh's fingers moving deftly down your jeans. She is entranced by the sight of you falling apart in her hands, torn between kissing you and watching as you ride the final waves of your orgasm.

The moment she opened the front door and saw you, she couldn't resist. You’re dressed in a loose white button-down shirt, open at the chest to reveal the collarbones she recently discovered she’s so fond of. The sleeves are rolled up to your elbows, and your boot-cut jeans fit perfectly, accentuating all the right places, especially at the back. The subtle scent of your perfume, sweet and intoxicating like chocolate, drifted across the room, pulling her closer. Without a second thought, she grabbed you by the collar, kissing you deeply as she pulled you into the kitchen.

“You're so beautiful,” Leigh whispers, her breath hot against your ear. Her eyes are locked onto your face, mesmerized.

You gasp, your body tensing as you reach the peak. “Leigh, please” you breathe out, shifting uncomfortably. The tight confines of your jeans restrict your movement. Sure, they make your figure look fantastic, but at moments like this, you question if it's really worth it.

Leigh's lips hover just above yours, her fingers still working their magic. “I can't decide,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky.

“Decide what?” you ask, your voice quivering.

“Whether I want to kiss you or keep watching you like this,” she replies, her eyes dark with desire.

Your hands find their way to her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Both,” you whisper. “Do both.”

As you both recover, you adjust your clothes, tucking your blouse back into the waistband of your pants. Still catching your breath, you glance at Leigh, who is already rinsing her fingers under the running water of the sink.

“What was that for?” you ask, your voice still a bit breathless.

Leigh grins, glancing over her shoulder at you. “Payback for last week.”

She moves around the espresso machine, then says, “By the way, I'm really sorry,” as if she hadn’t been driving you to an intense climax just minutes ago. “I can’t believe I overslept.”

You lean casually against the counter, your legs still weak from coming so hard, thoroughly entertained by her stream of apologies and quietly thrilled that she cares so much. The bagels you brought—laden with lox and a thick layer of cream cheese—wait patiently between you.

“It’s really okay,” you say, watching her make a fuss. Catching her hand as she goes for another apology, you squeeze it gently. “You… more than made up for it.”

She has the good grace to blush, a soft smile breaking through her earlier fretfulness. “Thanks for waiting,” he says, her voice still a little hoarse and, somehow, even more beguiling. “I’ve been looking forward to today. I guess last night just took more out of me than I thought.”

“You don’t say,” you tease lightly, observing the casual disarray of her hair and the relaxed hang of her clothes—it’s Leigh unplugged, and you’re increasingly fond of this version.

Leigh's eyes shift to the side, landing on the two take-out lattes you had bought earlier, now sitting forlornly on the counter. She grimaces slightly as she realizes they've gone cold—leftovers from your long wait outside her house, where it hasn’t stopped raining.

“Oh, you brought coffee too,” she husks out. “And I made you wait…”

“Yeah, I might have been a bit optimistic about the timing,” you say.

Leigh gives you a long, scrutinizing look, clearly baffled by your patience.

“I don’t get it,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Get what?”

“It’s just—I’m clumsy, you know? I forget things. I’m always late to appointments. I keep expecting you to realize how dysfunctional I am and run off,” she jokes, though her eyes tell a different story. The coffee maker gurgles, signaling that the brew is ready. She moves to pour the coffee, her shoulders tense, hesitating before speaking again. “But you don’t. You just... stay. And I don’t understand why.”

You watch her pour the coffee, the steam rising in soft curls. “I stay because I love you, Leigh,” you say simply. You’ve told her that three—maybe four—times now. Not that you’re counting, but each time it gets a little easier to say. And you hope, for her, it gets a little easier to hear.

She hasn't said it back, and while you’re unsure if she feels the same, you know she cares—maybe not enough to utter those three words yet, but enough to be here now. Her accepting this date, spending this day with you, it’s a concession you wouldn’t trade for the world.

Leigh's gaze flickers, eyes widening a touch, lips parting as though words are on the brink of breaking free. You hold your breath, waiting for whatever she might reveal. But then, she blinks—like she's snapping back from a distant thought—and quietly turns to pour another cup, her glance drifting off as she collects herself.

She hands you a steaming mug, her fingertips brushing yours. You take it from her carefully, feeling the warmth seep through your fingers, spreading a comforting heat up your arms.

“Thanks,” you say, your voice low, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth as you take a slow sip.

Leigh watches you over her own cup, her eyelashes casting long shadows on her cheeks as she takes a tentative sip. Words have the power to bring things into being, and for Leigh, speaking things into existence feels like an indelible commitment—a promise carved into stone.

But maybe some things are beloved even before they ever take shape.

After breakfast, you both head to The Beautiful Beast to drop off Logan. Jules is happy to take care of him, as the house is empty with Amy away on a trip with friends. With Logan settled, you and Leigh head to the art exhibit you had tickets for.

Inside the exhibit, you find yourselves packed tightly among the throngs of people. The crowd presses in, and while the vivid artwork is a distraction, the constricted room makes it tough to fully enjoy the pieces. Far from the tech hubs and arts districts, the local community jumps at anything that breaks the monotony of their usual scene. Moreover, today’s rain has chased everyone indoors, turning this rare cultural event into a magnet for locals starved for something different. With the parks soggy and deserted, people had the choice between shopping malls or here.

As you and Leigh wade through the crowded gallery, people jostle for space, elbows occasionally colliding with your sides as they vie for a better view of the vibrant installations. Suddenly, a passerby brushes against you, nearly pulling you away from Leigh. Instinctively, you snatch her hand, holding fast for dear life. In the confusion, unsuspecting of the sudden tug, Leigh loses her footing. Her thick heel comes down hard on your foot, and you yelp in pain. Tears spring to your eyes, and you try to hold back a cry, but the pain is sharp and persistent.

“Sorry, sorry!” Leigh's cheeks flush with mortification as she quickly steps back. “Are you okay?”

Trying to brush it off with a grimace that's more a wince, you manage a weak smile.

“I'll live,” you say, half-joking, even as you gingerly test your foot. “But I think that was my cue to start wearing steel-toed boots around you.”

Despite herself, Leigh chuckles. “I'm really sorry,” she laments, reaching out to gently squeeze your arm. “Let's find a place to sit, okay?”

You cautiously try a step, hopeful but hesitant. The sharp pain bites, making you flinch, and you end up limping. Immediately, Leigh slips her arm around your waist to stabilize you.

“Let's find someone to help you get to a first-aid station,” she suggests, eyeing your gait with concern.

“But the exhibit?” you protest weakly, looking longingly back at the art you were both eager to see.

Leigh gives you a wry smile. “I'm more worried they might have to amputate your foot,” she jokes, successfully coaxing a laugh out of you. Yet, as you chuckle, you wince again, putting weight on your foot without thinking.

Noticing your discomfort, Leigh guides you gently towards the front of the gallery. Soon, you're at the information booth, where a helpful attendant offers you an ice pack and points you to a bench near the entrance. As you try to get comfortable on the small bench, you struggle to keep the ice pack properly positioned on your foot, repeatedly bending down in an awkward dance of readjustment.

“Here, just put your foot on my lap,” she suggests, patting her lap lightly.

You start to object, not wanting to impose, but before you can finish your sentence, Leigh decisively grabs your leg and guides it onto her lap. She starts massaging the sole of your foot while holding the ice pack firmly against the swollen area. It's a simple, caring gesture, and you can't help but watch Leigh as she focuses on making you feel better.

When she looks up and catches you staring, she smirks. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You shake your head slightly, a small smile playing on your lips. “I just didn't think we'd end up back here, and we haven't even seen a third of the art yet,” you say.

Leigh laughs softly. “It's okay, the exhibits weren't all that impressive anyway,” she says. “Besides, I was starting to feel claustrophobic there.”

A twinge of disappointment pulls at you. You’d been excited about the exhibit, about sharing something you thought would be cool and sophisticated. With your foot throbbing and Leigh’s less-than-enthused review, the day feels like it’s stumbled right out of the gate.

Leigh notices your sudden quiet and nudges you gently. “What's wrong?”

“I just thought you’d be into this. I was almost entirely sure,” you say, avoiding her gaze.

“I am,” Leigh says, still holding your foot. “I love exhibits, but right now, my top priority is spending time with you.”

You blush at that. “We are spending time—”

She cuts you off with a small laugh. “I mean, like, actually talking. It’s hard to have a conversation when we’re constantly moving and trying to look at everything.”

You mull that over, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, the kind that feels more like understanding than emptiness. Then, out of the blue, Leigh asks, “So, how did you end up being an animal doctor?”

You’re startled by her sudden question, but it’s a welcome distraction from your foot and the disappointing exhibit.

“It’s a bit of a long story,” you start.

“I’ve got time,” she says with a smirk.

You take a deep breath and lean back on the bench, feeling more comfortable as your leg rests on Leigh’s lap. Her foot massage is so soothing, it’s almost putting you into a sleepy state.

“Well, I always loved animals. My parents used to joke that I’d bring home every stray if I could. But it wasn’t until I volunteered at a local shelter in high school that I realized it was what I wanted to do with my life.”

Leigh tilts her head and smiles. “That’s sweet. What was it about the shelter that made you decide?”

“It was this one dog,” you say, your voice catching and your eyes getting misty. “A scrappy little terrier mix named Max. He’d been through so much, but he still had so much love to give. Helping him heal and find a forever home—it just clicked. That’s when I knew I wanted to help as many animals as I could.”

Leigh looks at you with a kind of awe, as if something beautiful is unfolding before her eyes. “That’s amazing. I love that you found your calling through something so meaningful.”

You shrug, feeling a bit bashful under her stare. “What about you? When did you know you wanted to be a writer?”

She laughs, a light, airy sound that makes you grin from ear to ear. You could listen to it forever.

“Oh, I’ve always known,” she says. “Actually, I was always writing in my diary as a kid. I'd write about my day, things I enjoyed, pretty much anything that came to mind. I loved reading pocket books, too, and I even tried my hand at writing fiction once or twice.

“But I quickly discovered that fiction wasn't really my thing. I loved writing, though—just the act of putting words on paper, sharing my thoughts and experiences. It felt natural, like breathing.

“And even though I wasn't making up fictional characters and places,” Leigh continues, “I realized I could still tell stories. They were my stories, rooted in the everyday things I observed and experienced. That was my niche, and I just ran with it.”

“Did you have a specific moment, like with Max?” you ask.

“Not really,” she says. “It’s just what I wanted to do, that’s all.”

You nod. “Knowing what you want to do or be saves a lot of time, doesn’t it?”

“I guess?” She smiles at your insight, then adds, “Though maybe in another life, I’d be a serious journalist. If I thought I had the natural knack or talent for it, maybe I would.”

You frown slightly at that, concerned by her self-doubt. “Why do you think you’re not good enough to be a ‘serious’ journalist now?”

Leigh looks surprised by your question, then thoughtful. “I don’t know. I guess I always see those roles as being for people who are more... intense, more investigative. But you’re right. Maybe it’s just a matter of believing I could.”

“You’re an amazing writer, Leigh,” you say earnestly. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“How can you say that?” she asks, leaning in a bit closer. “Have you read any of my work apart from my tiny blurbs in the gossip column?”

You feel a blush warm your cheeks. “Well, I might have done a bit of Googling,” you confess, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “Your articles popped up, and I... may have read all of them.”

Her eyebrows lift, and she gives your foot a careful pinch. “Is that so?” she teases, her voice dropping lower. The blush spreads down your neck and chest. “And what did you think? Did they pass muster with our impromptu art critic here?”

“Honestly, I was blown away,” you say, looking her straight in the eye. “Your writing is intuitive, engaging. It pulled me right in. You've got this strong, clear voice that really comes through, even in the straightforward pieces.”

Leigh regards you for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to read the pages of a particularly dense novel—searching for the truth in your words. Then, as if finding what she was looking for, her features soften, the guarded lines around her eyes relaxing.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice carrying a tender gravity. “That really means a lot to me.”

You beam up at her, blissfully unaware of the profound impact your praise has had on her appreciation of her own writing.

Before you can pick up the thread of your laid-back conversation again, a man who could easily double as an Instagram model approaches. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a rogue lock of hair artfully obscuring one icy-blue eye. Both you and Leigh pause, taken aback by his sudden, striking presence, and an instinctive wariness settles in between you.

“Hey there. Are you okay?” he asks, hovering slightly, his focus solely on you, as if Leigh is merely a shadow on the wall.

“It's nothing, just a bit of swelling,” you say. You look up at him briefly and force a smile before focusing your attention back on Leigh. She's already staring down the stranger, as if trying to laser through his meticulously sculpted side-profile.

He presses on, “I could drive you to the hospital to get that checked out.”

You exchange a quick look with Leigh, catching the flash of irritation that crosses her face before she masks it with a polite smile.

“That’s very kind of you, but I'll be fine.”

Despite this, he doesn’t give up. “Really, it's no trouble at all. You shouldn't walk on that,” he says, pointing at your foot that’s clearly on someone else’s lap. This time, his gaze lingers a little too long for comfort.

Leigh gently lowers your foot from her lap and stands up, positioning herself between you and the persistent stranger. There's a considerable height difference between them—Leigh is notably shorter—but she doesn't seem intimidated in the slightest. Instead, she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin like she’s ten feet tall.

“Excuse me,” Leigh clears her throat. “We’re on a date here.”

The man blinks, surprised. “A date?” he echoes.

“Yes,” Leigh confirms, her smile now a thin line of resolve. “The kind where I kiss her goodnight after.”

You catch a few curious glances from nearby onlookers and feel a blush creeping up your neck. You duck your head, trying to shield yourself from their stares. More than anything, though, you're struck by Leigh's bold declaration to a near stranger—that she was going to kiss you by the end of this date.

Of course, you’re hoping she would, but hearing her say it out loud sends your stomach into a flutter of somersaults

His face registers the rebuff, and he nods awkwardly, stepping back. “Right, sorry,” he mutters before finally turning and walking away.

Leigh is heaving slightly, visibly tense, her back to you, and you gently take her hand to bring her focus back.

“Hey,” you mumble softly. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault,” Leigh says as she turns back to face you, her eyes now softer. You sense the tension easing from her as your fingers intertwine more firmly. “I’m sorry if—”

“Thank you,” you interrupt gently, wanting her to know her protectiveness was welcome. “I really appreciated that.”

She laughs, a sound of relief. “Okay, good. I didn’t want to come off too strong.”

You want to tell her that she does, that she's always been a force to be reckoned with. But you bite your lip, not wanting it to come across as criticism. You like this quality of hers, and you don’t want her to change anything about herself just because you're a completely different person with a different perspective.

She shuffles her feet, looking a bit unsure, then sits down beside you. “So... where were we?”

You smile at her. “I was saying how amazing you are as a writer.”

Leigh grins, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, right. Please, go on.”

You laugh, and the two of you spend the next hour in the art exhibit, talking about everything and nothing.

At 1pm, you and Leigh head out for a scenic drive to Santa Monica Beach.

A week ago, as soon as she agreed to this date, you booked a table at a beachside lobster joint that’s been trending locally for some time now. It seems like the perfect spot, with great reviews and a beautiful setting by the ocean. The drive is relaxed, the windows rolled down and the salty air filling the car, clearing away any last threads of the tension from earlier at the exhibit.

Leigh is in high spirits, chatting animatedly about books and laughing more freely than she has all day. At one point, you find yourselves discussing The Great Gatsby.

“I just don't get the hype,” you say, shaking your head as you keep your eyes on the road, though you're eager to dive into what promises to be an interesting debate. “I mean, the characters are all so shallow, and the story feels more like a soap opera than a classic.”

Leigh's expression brightens, excited to dispute your claim. “But that’s exactly why it’s a classic,” she counters, turning to face you and resting her head against her arm on the windshield. “Fitzgerald captured the Jazz Age perfectly—the decadence, the disillusionment, the elusive American Dream. It's all critiqued through some really beautiful writing.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “So you think the shallowness is the point?”

“Exactly,” she replies, smirking slightly. “Gatsby's obsession with Daisy, who represents everything he can't have, mirrors the era's obsession with wealth and status. It's tragic and a little ridiculous because it's supposed to be.”

You pretend to mull it over, though you know she has a point. You can feel her gaze on you, and you're starting to relish Leigh's undivided and very welcome attention. You drag out your response, just to see how she reacts. You think you catch her rolling her eyes out of the corner of your eye.

Chuckling, you say, “You’re making it hard to stick to my guns here.”

Her smirk widens into a proud smile. “Good! Maybe it’s time to surrender those guns.”

You flex your arm, showcasing your slim and completely unimpressive biceps. “Speaking of guns, maybe I should keep these instead,” you joke, giving Leigh a playful look.

Leigh makes a face. “Oh, please, keep those guns. They're definitely more persuasive than your take on Fitzgerald!” she teases.

You pout at her sarcastic comment about your physique, but your smile is good-natured. It's been a long time since you've felt this at ease—not just with Leigh, but with anyone else. You haven't enjoyed company like this in a while, not since...

Well, not since Matt.

After a while, you say, “Maybe I need to give it another read. You make it sound like a completely different book.”

Leigh shifts in her seat to face the long, winding road ahead. “We can read it together. Maybe you’ll catch some of the subtleties you missed the first time around,” she suggests.

You sneak a glance at her, catching her eyes just as she looks back at you, your dark brown eyes meeting her green ones. It's a bit ridiculous, but you find yourself wishing this drive would never end. The swelling in your foot stings with every press of the gas pedal, but somehow, it doesn't seem to matter.

“I’d love that.”

When you pull into the quaint parking lot of the restaurant, nestled right against the beach, you're greeted by stunning ocean views that truly live up to the hype. Inside, the nautical decor, complete with nets and life rings adorning the walls, is cliché yet undeniably still charming. The rain has subsided, but the beach remains unusually quiet, lacking the usual crowds that gather when the sun is out.

As you settle into a table with a view of the beach, it feels like the right kind of perfect until you start discussing the menu and Leigh's smile drops a touch.

“I should’ve mentioned—I’m allergic to shellfish.”

“Oh,” you manage, a twinge of embarrassment settling in your stomach. You feel a bit foolish for jumping ahead without checking first. It's not the first time this has happened with Leigh, and suddenly, her earlier hesitations about your intentions and feelings make more sense. You realize you've constructed a version of her that feels familiar, yet moments like these remind you that there's still so much about her you have yet to understand.

“We can go somewhere else,” you suggest, even though you don’t have the first clue where else to go.

“Really, it's okay. We don’t have to leave. I'll find something else. This place is too gorgeous to skip just because of that,” she says.

You hastily scan the menu for alternatives, but the options are slim. The only non-shellfish item is a fish and chips plate that looks unappealing at best. Then, tucked at the bottom of the menu, you spot a plain cheeseburger with fries on the side.

“Leigh, we should really head somewhere else,” you say, remembering how she mentioned she was starving just before stepping inside the restaurant. The last thing you want is for her to settle for a less-than-satisfying meal simply because the setting is picturesque.

Leigh gives you a reassuring smile, but you can sense the underlying frustration as she says, “You don't need to make such a big deal out of it.”

“But you said you were hungry.”

“I know you mean well, and I really appreciate it. But honestly, it's just lunch,” Leigh says.

You go quiet, not wanting to argue further, but inside, you’re still kicking yourself for not having a backup plan. Sensing your inner turmoil, Leigh sighs, dropping the menu on the table.

“Hey,” she begins softly, waiting until you meet her eyes before offering a small, apologetic smile. She knows today hasn't gone as smoothly as you hoped—starting with her oversleeping, then arriving late to a gallery you were excited to see, only to find it overcrowded. And on top of that, the incident where she stepped on your foot. You’ve been brushing it off, insisting you’re fine, but she noticed your grimaces every time you pressed the gas pedal during the drive. Clearly, today hasn’t unfolded as you planned.

Leigh’s not trying to downplay the effort you've put into today, but she also doesn't want you to think that a single mishap could turn her away. She hopes you don't set expectations too high just yet, not when you're both still in the early stages of getting to know each other. Beyond the undeniable physical chemistry between you, she's looking forward to discovering how you both handle the less-than-perfect moments just as much as the perfect ones.

Once she has your attention, she continues, “I was married for seven years and had numerous relationships before that.”

Your curiosity prickles—Numerous? How many?—but Leigh keeps talking, pulling you back to the moment.

“I've seen all the grand gestures. They’re fine—they’re romantic, but right now, I just want to do normal stuff with someone I like.”

“Me, too. I—”

“That means not worrying about every little thing on a menu I can’t eat. I don’t need every outing to be perfect.”

You nod, a realization sinking in. Leigh doesn’t want you to treat her as if she’s delicate, like china that could shatter at any moment. She wants you, with all your flawed plans and your corny jokes.

Maybe, you realize, you and Leigh share more than just an intense attraction. You both harbor insecurities about being wanted for something you're not, rather than for who you truly are. Deep down, there's a fear lurking in you that maybe this—whatever this is—could evaporate. You're scared that Leigh might discover something about you that could change her mind, worried that all this might just be a fleeting curiosity or a complicated connection tied to her past.

So you aimed for perfection today—at the expense of not being yourself, perhaps becoming too cautious and too rigid in the process. Leigh's desire for authenticity over perfection makes you rethink your approach.

“Okay,” you finally say, setting the menu down. You signal a waiter and order their bestseller—broiled lobster in butter garlic herb sauce.

Leigh looks up from her menu. “And I'll have the cheeseburger,” she tells him. Then, leaning across the table, she adds in a mock-threatening tone, “But you should know, it’s actually breakfast and dessert where you really can’t go wrong with me.” She exaggerates her expression, widening her eyes for effect.

Perhaps it’s a good lesson to learn that not everything has to be perfect to be right.

At least, not with Leigh Shaw.

After a hearty meal, with you having indulged in the lobster since Leigh couldn't partake, you both feel pleasantly full. Needing to stretch your legs and help settle the big lunch, you suggest a walk along the shore.

You roll up your jeans to your calves, trying to keep them dry, but the relentless little waves have other plans, occasionally splashing over and wetting the fabric. Meanwhile, Leigh, wearing high-waisted cotton shorts, meanders alongside you, unaffected by the water's reach. As the sun dips lower, it paints the horizon in vibrant shades of orange and pink. Endless stretches of beach host a few leisurely strollers, all basking in scenery that seems almost too striking to be real.

Walking side by side, every now and then your fingers brush against each other—a fleeting touch that sends a subtle thrill through you. Despite the advanced nature of your physical relationship, you and Leigh exchange shy smiles, almost as if you're newly acquainted. It's a curious thing that here, in the open expanse of the beach, there are instances where it feels like you haven't crossed those boundaries at all.

You want to reach out and hold her hand, but Leigh is wrapped up in her own thoughts, her arms crossed as she stares out where the horizon swallows ships whole. Respecting her reverie, you shove your hands into the pockets of your jeans instead.

After a while, Leigh turns to you, her face catching the evening light, transforming her into something almost otherworldly. Her expression is open, inviting, and it makes your heart stumble over itself once more.

“So, Y/N,” she says, her voice low and a little unsteady, as if she had second thoughts a moment ago about whether to even say the words. “Tell me about the girls and boys you've loved before.”

Once again, you’re unsuspecting of Leigh’s directness.

You scramble for a moment, trying to buy some time. “Well, what exactly do you want to know about them?” you ask, watching her closely. Ex-lovers are bound to come up soon, and you haven't really thought about your own answer. Truth be told, your track record feels lackluster, but somehow you think that might be a good thing.

Leigh bites her lip, seemingly pondering her next move. She kicks at the small ripples lapping at her ankles, sending water splashing in little arcs. After a moment, she looks up at you coyly. “I don't know, you decide what to tell me,” she says, unapologetically leaving the ball squarely in your court.

Her response puts you at ease a little, turning the pressure of the question into more of a gentle invitation to share what you feel comfortable with.

You take a deep breath, tasting the salt on the breeze. “I didn't actually have a boyfriend until I was twenty-two,” you say, glancing at Leigh to gauge her reaction.

Her eyebrows lift in surprise, an expression that draws a small laugh from you. “Yeah, I was a late bloomer,” you say, a flippant shrug accompanying your words. “I think I was just curious, you know? Everyone around me was pairing off, and I felt like I was missing out.

“It lasted six months. It was more about exploration than anything else. And then, well, it took another two years before I found myself in something serious.”

“With who?” Leigh asks, slowing down a little. The wind picks up, teasing strands of her hair across her face, not bound today in her usual ponytail. She brushes them aside absently, her focus fixed on you.

“Her name was Alex,” you continue, the name rolling off your tongue thoughtfully as bittersweet memories flood your mind. You haven’t thought about her in a long time—she was your first love and your first heartbreak. “She was incredible—taught me what it really means to be with someone, to really be present. We were together for almost three years.”

Leigh suddenly stops and turns to face you. She grabs your hand, guiding you both to a weathered bench a few steps from the lapping waves.

“How did it end?” she asks quietly.

“We moved in together after a year,” you say, trying to keep your tone light even though you’re about to rehash a painful past. “Things were really good, at least that's what I thought. But then, just a month after our third anniversary, I came home early from work and... I found her in bed with someone else.”

“Oh, Y/N…”

“It was her coworker, someone I'd always just thought of as a colleague of hers,” you conclude, managing a tight-lipped smile. Neither of you speak for a while, allowing the susurration of the sea to fill the gap instead.

“I’m sorry,” Leigh finally says.

You shrug, looking out at the horizon where the sun meets the calm waters. “It's a long time ago. From what I've heard through mutual friends, they're still together. Maybe they were meant for each other, and I was just a stop on her journey to finding that out. I mean, I shouldn't feel so bad for not getting in the way of true love.”

Leigh shakes her head, not buying into your attempt to whitewash what Alex did. “She should've ended it with you properly.”

You’ve pondered that moment countless times, wondering if it would have been easier if she had simply been honest about falling out of love. You picture different scenarios where you come home to Alex waiting to tell you there’s someone else, and each time, you arrive at the same painful conclusion.

“I don't know, it probably would have hurt just the same,” you tell her honestly.

Leigh scoots closer, looping her arm around you and resting her head on your shoulder. In a whisper, she concurs, “I think so too.”

Then, Leigh starts sharing her story with Matt. It begins at a college house party, where they first met—just a couple of undergrads who had no idea what the future held. As she talks, you rest your cheek against her head, absorbing every detail. You chuckle at her lighthearted anecdotes, feeling the happiness they brought her. But as she talks about the tougher times, particularly the months leading up to his death, your smile fades, replaced by a tightness in your chest.

Soon enough the telling morphs into a session of self-reflection where it becomes unclear whether Leigh’s speaking to you or to herself. She suggests that she blames herself for his death, feeling as if she had somehow caused his demise. She confesses that when he died, it seemed like all the good parts of her died with him, parts she now thinks existed only because of him.

When she finally breaks down, sobbing into your neck, you pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her as if you could squeeze away all the guilt and pain she’s carrying. Part of you wants to interrupt, to assure her that she’s wrong, that all her good parts were always there, maybe just brightened by her love for him—because isn’t that what love does? It casts everything in a better light. But you resist the urge to speak, understanding that sometimes the best comfort you can offer isn’t words, but simply presence and the quiet acceptance of her sorrow.

It starts to rain again a few minutes into your drive back to the city. As the droplets splatter against the windshield and the wipers slide back and forth, you notice Leigh holding up her phone, talking animatedly into it.

“Hey there, we're on our way back and look at this rain, it's really coming down! Oh, and I've got someone very special I want you to meet—this is Y/N.” She angles the phone toward you. You feel your cheeks warm as you give a small, awkward wave. “Aren’t those eyes incredible? Like deep, rich coffee... absolutely gorgeous.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, still a bit embarrassed.

“Something for my eyes only,” Leigh replies nonchalantly, lowering her phone but keeping that roguish smile.

“You didn't have to stop,” you tell her, still a bit amused by her whole vlogging act.

Leigh turns to face you fully. “I kind of want to look at you now without a screen between us,” she murmurs, her voice low and inviting.

You swallow, feeling a thrill at her directness. Leigh's approach is always bold, and it sends an excited shiver down your spine. You wish you weren't trapped in the driver's seat, confined by the slow crawl of traffic, so you could fully engage with her flirtation. Yet, there's a part of you that suspects Leigh enjoys knowing you're somewhat at her mercy, divided between the road and her teasing.

Trying to distract her from whatever she’s up to, you throw out a playful challenge. “Want to guess where we're headed next?”

It seems to work as Leigh glances out at the relentless downpour. “In this weather?”

“Yup,” you respond simply, a mysterious smile on your lips as you focus on the rain-slicked road ahead, keeping the surprise of your next stop just between the two of you for a little longer.

Leigh has this endearing habit of pressing the back of her fingers against her mouth, her thumb brushing her lower lip as she thinks. You've come to recognize this gesture as a sign she's deep in thought or uncertain about something.

“Bowling?”

You snort in amusement.

“At least give me a clue!”

“It involves a membership card,” you hint.

Leigh scrunches up her nose, clearly appalled at her next guess. “The gym?”

“The library, of course,” you reply with a grin, recalling an earlier conversation. “Remember I mentioned having a membership card?”

Leigh narrows her eyes, and in a skittish huff, slaps your arm lightly. “You're totally messing with me,” she accuses.

“Hey, I'm driving here!” you protest, trying to keep the car steady. Undeterred, she pokes at your ribs, discovering a ticklish spot. You can't help but burst into laughter. “Seriously, Leigh, we're going to crash if you keep this up,” you say between giggles, half-joking, half-pleading for mercy.

She pulls back, her laughter tapering off into a series of chuckles that fade into the rhythmic splatter of hefty raindrops on the car roof. Once it’s comfortably quiet again, she leans back in her seat, her expression turning curious and a little conspiratorial.

“Speaking of books, there's something I almost forgot to tell you,” she says.

“Yeah?” you respond, somewhat distracted as a car swiftly cuts into your lane.

“Matt's comic is going to be published posthumously,” she reveals slowly. “Danny and I have been working together on it.”

You strive to keep your expression blasé at the mention of Danny's name. There's no room for jealousy when it concerns Matt's legacy. If Leigh needs to do this, whether Danny is involved or not, it's her choice and not your place to question.

“That's amazing, Leigh,” you say, trying to sound cheerful and supportive. “Matt would have been thrilled.”

Leigh gives you a curious look. Your focus remains on the road ahead, so you miss the reservation in her green eyes.

“You think so?”

“Yeah,” you respond, nodding. Without much thought, you add, “He used to show me his work, and I was honestly impressed.”

Leigh's expression shifts subtly at your words, and there's a moment of quiet between you. “Matt never showed me his works,” she says softly, almost to herself.

You feel a flush of embarrassment, realizing it might have sounded like you were bragging about being privy to Matt's work—a privilege Leigh, his wife, hadn't shared. You manage only a soft, “Oh,” which hangs awkwardly in the air.

“I found his sketches one day by accident, and he didn't like it—me seeing his work, I mean. He always wanted to keep that part of his life separate.”

You’re still processing this when Leigh speaks again.

“I used to tell him everything, you know? I’d ask for his take on my work, vent about the chaos at mom’s studio, and talk through the tough times we faced as a family when—well, when Jules was dealing with her addiction,” she says, her voice trailing off a bit at the end.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, not knowing what else to say.

Leigh brushes off your sympathy with a gentle flick of her wrist. “No, it's not that he was trying to be secretive. I think... I think I was too critical of him, even about his depression. I thought I knew everything, knew what was best for him.” She sighs, a shadow of regret crossing her face. “I guess I was kind of overbearing, so he stopped sharing things with me. He chose to keep it all to himself instead of having to constantly argue with me.”

You wince slightly, feeling guilty in some way, but Leigh quickly reassures you. “Hey, I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad that he shared things with you. I’m actually glad he did. His work deserves to be out there.”

You nod, taking in Leigh's reflections quietly. Wanting to steer back to a milder topic, you ask, “So, when is it going to be published?”

Leigh's fingers absently toy with the ends of her hair as she thinks. “It's set to come out early next year,” she finally says, her voice surprisingly devoid of excitement. You can't help but wonder why that is.

“And there's going to be a tour right after—it's promoting the comic along with some other new titles from the publisher. I'm... planning to go.”

“That sounds like an incredible experience,” you say, smiling at her.

Leigh makes a sound of agreement. “It's probably starting in late February,” She takes a deep breath before adding, “It'll take me all over the country. We need to attend conventions and such.”

You fall silent, digesting her words. The realization that this isn't just a short trip starts to sink in. “How long will you be gone?” you ask, trying to catch her gaze but Leigh’s eyes are trained forwards.

“I don't have all the details yet, but it could be anywhere from a few weeks to a couple of months,” she says.

“But you'll come back in between, right?” The hope in your question is palpable.

Leigh shakes her head slowly. “I'm not sure. It might be a good time to travel and go away for a while with this opportunity.”

The conversation drifts between you, muffled like the world outside the fogged-up windows of your car. It's becoming clear, maybe too clear, what this all means.

Leigh's gaze stays fixed on the shimmering road ahead. She's quiet, but you can almost hear her thoughts tumbling over each other. You know she's wrestling with the implications of her future plans, just as you are. She knows the reality of the situation, understands that there are only a few ways this could possibly go.

She can't ask you to wait, and it wouldn't be fair to ask you to drop everything and follow her. That leaves the looming possibility of a farewell that could stretch into something indefinite.

Minutes pass—one, then two—before you both lose count. It feels as though an hourglass has been unwillingly flipped. Watching the city lights blur through the rain, you can't help but feel they reflect the uncertainty of your future with Leigh. You're willing to attempt a long-distance relationship, though you know it might not be ideal. The prospect of being apart just as things are beginning to bloom between you feels akin to a preemptive goodbye.

Then, an idea takes hold—a bold, possibly reckless notion, but it clings to your heart with surprising tenacity. Yes, you have a clinic, a business that needs you, but suddenly, those realities seem negotiable, secondary to what feels more pressing—being with Leigh.

“What if I came with you on the tour?”

Leigh turns to look at you, her eyes wide with surprise and something like worry. She knows your life is deeply rooted here, especially with the veterinary clinic you’ve poured your heart—and savings—into.

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she says.

“Why not?” you ask softly.

Your tone is so earnest, almost childlike in your confusion, that Leigh’s lips part and then close as she grapples with how to articulate her feelings about your rash offer.

“You have your clinic, your responsibilities here. It's too much for me to expect you to just walk away from that,” Leigh argues.

“But what if it’s not about what you’re asking me to give up?” you say, your fingers unconsciously tightening their grip on the steering wheel. “What if it’s about what I’m willing to sacrifice?”

Leigh's frustration shows clearly as she pushes back against your idea. “Sacrifices? It's about being realistic. We can't just make decisions on a whim.”

You turn to look at her, making it a point to focus on her for a second longer than you should while driving. “But I don't see it as a whim. I see it as choosing what matters most to me.”

Leigh sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You're not seeing the whole picture. What about your employees? They depend on you.”

“I can arrange things at the clinic. I can find people to cover for me,” you say confidently. But Leigh is just as relentless with her objections.

“And what if you come back and resent me for taking you away from all that?” Leigh counters, her voice rising a little.

“I won’t,” you reply quickly, even though you know it's a hefty promise to make in such a heated moment.

Leigh scoffs, shaking her head vehemently. “You can’t possibly know that.”

Before you can bolster your promise with more reassurances, your phone rings. It’s Sara, calling from the clinic. Leigh watches as you answer, her expression a mix of resignation and pointedness, as if to emphasize her earlier concerns about your responsibilities.

You excuse yourself, grab your phone, and answer the call. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“It's an emergency,” Sara's voice is tense. “Foreman needs you. Can you make it?”

You're just minutes from the city now, and your heart sinks as you realize the timing couldn't be worse. “Yes, I'll be there soon,” you mutter, feeling torn.

After hanging up, you turn to Leigh, who's been quietly observing. “There’s an emergency at the clinic, and Foreman needs my help,” you explain. “Can we stop there? It won't take long, and we can still make it to our next stop.”

Leigh gives a resigned nod, her earlier arguments about your responsibilities underscored by this untimely call. “Sure, whatever,” she says, her voice flat. You want to erase that look on her face, but for now, you’re needed elsewhere.

You spring from the car the moment it's parked, snagging your white coat from the trunk in one fluid motion. Leigh is right on your heels, her footsteps quick and questioning as you both scurry into the clinic.

You burst through the doors and immediately spot Sara at the reception, giving her a quick nod of acknowledgment. Beside you, Leigh’s steps falter slightly at the sight of Sara, her expression one of mild shock at seeing her there—a detail you realize you've failed to mention.

“What’s happening?” you ask Sara, pulling your hair into a tight bun.

“Room two, now,” she replies, gesturing briskly towards the surgery room.

You nod and break into a jog, with Leigh hesitantly trailing behind. When you reach your destination, you stop short and turn to signal Leigh to wait outside.

“I’m so sorry about this,” you say, your voice full of apology.

“Just go,” she whispers softly. You offer her a grateful smile before your expression shifts to calm determination as you slip into the surgery room.

Left in the waiting area, Leigh stands in a stupor, surrounded by unanswered questions and a sudden solitude, her eyes lingering on the closed doors you've just disappeared through.

Leigh has been noticeably quiet since you emerged from the surgery room an hour and a half ago. Right after you came out, she meekly asked for the car keys and walked straight out of the clinic. You didn’t think much of it at the time, busy giving final instructions to Foreman and Sara before heading out to continue your date with her.

Now, as you drive to the bar you planned on taking her to, you can’t seem to come up with a topic that doesn’t seem like you're evading the earlier argument.

“Where are we headed next?”

You breathe a sigh of relief as Leigh breaks the silence. You notice her glance at the watch on her wrist. The small motion feels like a small betrayal—does it signal impatience, or worse, a desire to escape this disjointed evening?

With everything that’s happened, you drop the pretense of surprise. “I had planned for us to catch a live band at a speakeasy downtown,” you say evenly. “But we're running late, and honestly, I'm not even sure it's worth heading there now.”

You risk a glance at Leigh, almost expecting she’d choose this moment to cut the evening short. But she merely hums noncommittally, and just like that, silence settles in once more.

When you arrive, the heavy rain makes the night feel even more somber. A few cars are still scattered around the parking lot, but the place otherwise looks almost deserted. You grab an umbrella from the backseat and offer it to Leigh as you both make your way to the entrance.

As you approach, the doorman stops you from crossing the threshold. “Sorry, folks,” he says, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain. “The performance was canceled, and we're wrapping up early tonight because of the weather.”

Disappointment settles in, heavier now with the official confirmation. You turn to Leigh, trying to salvage what you can of the evening. “Maybe we can have at least one drink?” you suggest, hoping to extend the time you have together.

Leigh pauses, her expression inscrutable for a moment before she shakes her head. “Actually, I think I’d rather not,” she says, throwing you off with her refusal.

The doorman gives you a sympathetic nod as he pulls the heavy doors shut, sealing off the warm glow of the bar from the cold, wet night. Leigh takes the umbrella from you with a gesture that's both resigned and leading, and starts walking back to the car. Her steps are quick, purposeful, but she slows just enough under the umbrella to ensure you're covered and not getting drenched. But you barely notice the rain; your mind is clouded with thoughts of how the evening has unfolded.

As you walk, you replay the last few hours, how what began as an attempt to reassure Leigh of your willingness to go the distance by offering to join her on the tour quickly spiraled into a demonstration of all the practical reasons why it was a bad idea. And the unexpected revelation about Sara working at your clinic surely hadn't helped.

Leigh slides into the passenger seat, handing you the umbrella which you catch as several raindrops escape onto your arm. You settle into the driver’s seat, carefully folding the umbrella and tossing it behind you.

“I guess I should drop you home?” you suggest, more as a formality than a question.

Leigh hums in response, her voice low and temporizing. It’s starting to irk you, this silent treatment. Throughout the drive to her house, the only sounds are the steady swish of the windshield wipers and the occasional splash of tires against puddles. You steal glances at her, trying to decipher her thoughts. Her face is angled towards the window, so that each time you pass under a street lamp, there’s a fleeting moment where her face is illuminated, revealing a tightness around her eyes and a slight downturn at the corners of her mouth.

Just before you turn onto her street, something inside you rebels. You can’t let the night end on this note—defeated, disconnected. You pull over under a massive tree beside an empty lot and shut off the engine.

Turning to her, you find your voice again. “Leigh, talk to me. Please.”

She sighs but remains silent.

“Are you upset because of Sara?”

That gets a reaction from her—an unpleasant one, but a reaction nonetheless.

“Oh, please.” Leigh lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “Really, it's not my business who you hire, even if it's an ex. But considering you just told me you love me this morning, don't you think that's something you should have mentioned?”

You hadn’t intentionally kept Sara's hiring from Leigh; it had slipped through the cracks of a busy week. You never even considered Sara an ex-anything, so it was an honest mistake. If only you could convince Leigh that Sara is truly that insignificant to you.

“I'm sorry, Leigh,” you say, hoping to smooth things over. But she isn't having it. “It was an oversight, not a choice. Sara really doesn't mean anything in that way. I just didn't think it was important.”

Instead of pacifying her, your words have the opposite effect.

“Not important?” Leigh’s face sets like concrete. “When you say you love someone, everything becomes important, especially things like this. How am I supposed to trust you?”

Your own frustration flares. You didn’t expect such a harsh judgment over what seemed so trivial in your mind. A thought then strikes you, fueling your anger. “And what about you? You’re heading away for months, and you’ve barely spoken about it. When were you going to tell me all the details? Right before you left?”

Leigh reels as if you've slapped her. “That’s different. I was going to tell you—”

“When? Last minute at the airport?” You cut her off, your voice rising to match hers.

“It’s not the same, and you know it!” Leigh snaps back, her eyes alight with anger and something like hurt.

“You're right, it's not the same,” you snap back. “It’s much worse. Because you said you’d give us a chance. And now, when I’m telling you I’m willing to fight for a chance to be with you, you’re shutting me down.”

“I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep,” Leigh says tightly.

“You don’t need to promise me anything,” you reply, your voice softening. “All I’m asking for is a real shot at this. I know you want that too.”

Leigh’s eyes glisten, and for a moment, you think you’re getting through to her. But then her expression hardens again. “Not like this,” she says.

You feel like you're climbing an ever-growing wall between the two of you, but you refuse to give up on this—on her.

“It won’t be easy,” you acquiesce, changing tactics. “But nothing worth having ever is. We can figure it out together, Leigh. We can make it work if we both want it enough.”

Leigh’s jaw clenches, and she looks away, the rain streaking down the windows like tears. She can’t help but compare this moment to the beginning with Matt. He had been so eager, so willing to give himself to her completely. He had always assured her that he was happy just to be with her, to follow her wherever her dreams led. He had said yes to every plan she made, every crazy idea she had, always with that same smile, always saying, “As long as I’m with you.”

But then, one day, he wasn’t there anymore.

And Leigh doesn’t know if she can survive another abandonment.

You have no idea that all of this is racing through her mind as you keep making your case. “...just take a leap of faith. Don’t push me away before we’ve even had a chance to—”

You’re mid-sentence, almost convincing yourself that you're breaking through her defenses, when Leigh interrupts with a shout, “Maybe this was a mistake!”

Taken aback and hurt by her outburst, you risk calling her bluff, exclaiming, “Maybe it was!”

An impasse is reached. For a moment, all you can do is stare at each other, each of you gasping for breath as if the air itself has slipped from the car in those tense seconds.

Is this it, then?

Is this the end?

But before you can retract any of your words, in a move you never see coming, Leigh reaches out. Her hand clasps the back of your neck, pulling you close. She kisses you fiercely, as if trying to settle the argument with just the pressure of her lips.

But she's not trying to win. Leigh doesn't want to come out on top in this argument. Instead, she wants to forget her usual realism and bury herself in the moment. She wants to give in to your optimism, to let you abandon everything you've worked for to be with her in the coming months.

But she knows that’s selfish.

And she finds herself unable to be selfish when it comes to you.

You're just beginning to melt into the kiss, to lose yourself in the forgiveness it promises, when Leigh abruptly pulls away. She hurls herself back against her seat, her back pressed hard against the door, panting.

“Sorry,” she gasps, her voice thick with both regret and need.

You look at her, eyes half-lidded and lips feeling bruised from the fervor of her kiss. All you can focus on is how she's starting to pull away—but you're determined not to let her go. Not this time.

“No, no, come here. Come back here, damn it.”

Leigh doesn't need to be told twice. She meets you halfway, the space between you disappearing as quickly as it had expanded. Her mouth finds yours once again, lips slotting together in a way that feels right, necessary—like solving a puzzle that neither of you knew how to complete until now.

With all inhibitions cast aside, Leigh grabs the collar of your shirt with surprising strength, yanking you towards her so forcefully that half of your body ends up sprawled across the cramped passenger seat. Your hips press painfully against the gear stick, but any discomfort quickly fades as Leigh's tongue teases yours. Instinctively, you open your mouth wider, a low moan escaping as your tongues intertwine. You support your weight with one arm braced against the windshield behind her, careful not to overwhelm her with your weight. Your other hand rises to cradle her neck, feeling the heat of her skin rising by the second under your touch.

Leigh's hands are anything but idle; they're bold and determined as she reaches for the buttons of your jeans. It's the second time today since this morning, and she's all confidence as she pulls down the zipper, slipping her hand inside your soaked underwear. The moment her fingers trace the length of your slit, brushing against your clit with each pass, you nearly lose your balance.

But as much as you're caught up in the temptation of her touch, there’s something else on your mind—something you've been thinking about all week.

“Backseat,” you say breathlessly, the word more of a command than a suggestion. Without waiting for her response, you clamber toward the backseat of the car. Once there, you quickly turn to help Leigh slide in after you.

You gently push at Leigh's shoulders, and she understands immediately, lying back with a soft thud against the door panel. Her upper back curves awkwardly against the hard surface, but she doesn’t mind, consumed by desire and curiosity about what you’re planning to do next. She lies there, expectant and provocatively inviting, as your fingers hover over the waistband of her shorts.

You lower your voice to a whisper, “May I?”

She nods quickly and you make short work of her shorts and panties, tugging them down her thighs efficiently. With a firm tap, you signal for her to lift her legs. She complies, bending at the knees as you strip the fabric past her ankles and casually toss it to the front seat.

Your eyes widen at the sight of her waxed bare. “God, you're beautiful,” you whisper, pulling her closer until she's practically lying across your lap. Your hands roam over her creamy thighs, kneading the soft flesh there. You take your time, exploring every inch, your touch deliberately skirting the places she aches for you most. You’re teasing her, and her body responds ardently—her breath catches, her hips tilt seeking more.

Leigh’s skin is hot under your fingertips. She’s ready, practically quivering, but you keep the pace maddeningly slow. Your fingers dance closer, then retreat, building her frustration to a fever pitch.

“Patience,” you murmur with a teasing smile, savoring the way her body arches and responds to your touch.

“Don't be cruel,” she whines, her eyes the darkest you've seen them.

You lean in, your lips brushing against her ear. “I promise, it'll be worth it,” you whisper, letting your fingers finally drift to the spot she needs you most. Your fingers play with her, teasing her folds, drawing circles around her clit to get her wetter and wetter, each touch designed to increase her desire, her body responding with eager, heated movements. Her breathing becomes heavier, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she pushes against your fingers, craving more.

Seeing her so turned on, you adjust your position. You scoot backward until your back presses against the other side of the car, then gently maneuver Leigh's legs to drape over your shoulders, positioning her in a bridge. The pose might be demanding, so you look up at her, your hands supporting her weight by firmly grasping her buttocks.

“Is this okay?" you ask as you prepare to bring her closer to your eager mouth.

“Just fuck me, please,” Leigh breathes out impatiently.

That's all the permission you need. You lower your head, your lips finding the delicate, sensitive flesh of her pussy. Her taste is intoxicating, driving you to explore further with your tongue. Her hips rise to meet your mouth, the angle allowing you to take her in deeply. Leigh's response is immediate—her moans fill the car, guttural and unrestrained. The scent of sex begins to saturate the air, mingling with the dampness of the rain outside. You’re thankful for the dark tint of your car windows and the fact that the bad weather has cleared the streets at this hour.

You want to prolong this, to draw out every moment of her pleasure, but you can already feel Leigh tightening around your tongue, telling you she’s close. In a bid to intensify her impending release, you decide to gamble on your strength. With one hand you keep her lifted in the perfect position, while your other hand moves with a different intent.

Pulling your tongue back, you replace it with your lips, sucking her clit into your mouth, letting the slight pressure send ripples through her. Simultaneously, you slide your middle and ring finger deep into her, the slick heat of her welcoming you in. Leigh's response is visceral, a raw, “Oh fuck, fuck, that’s it, don’t stop…!” that she screams out as if it's being torn from her.

Fuelled by her cries, you pump your fingers harder, faster, curling them to stroke that perfect spot inside her. She's loud, unabashedly so, her moans filling the car, steaming up the windows even more, turning this space into your own sordid bubble. She's dripping down your wrist, your chin, but you don’t mind, existing in that moment solely for her pleasure.

“Y/N, I—”

She's right on the edge, her body slick with sweat and shaking from the relentless pleasure you're hammering into her. But as the climax washes over her, her voice breaks into something unexpected. Instead of the anticipated screams or the typical rush of expletives, something deeper bursts forth.

“—I love you!”

You almost lose your rhythm at her declaration.

Her body shakes violently, her screams of ecstasy almost a primal release. You keep going, pushing her through it, savoring every tremble and shudder, tasting every bit of her orgasm, all the while thinking, Leigh loves me.

She fucking loves me.

You’re cautious enough not to hang your entire heart on those three words immediately, but the confession still paints a devilish grin across your face. This wasn’t merely a heat-of-the-moment slip; it felt like Leigh was revealing something she'd been holding back for a while.

Carefully, you ease her legs down from your shoulders, noticing her wince as she adjusts from the stretch. Before you even get the chance to ask if she really meant what she said, Leigh answers by pulling you in close, her hands framing your face. She kisses you, so tenderly, and it’s nothing like the ones you’ve shared before. It’s the kind of kiss that slows time, the one you’ve been dreaming about since you were a little kid, the one you hope to keep until you’re old.

Leigh’s eyes lock onto yours, earnest and clear, “I do love you.”

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

358 notes · View notes

getaapologist · 28 days ago

Text

The Tension and the Terror..............Part V

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length in a later part)

Summary: Geta has concerns. He meets with Macrinus to discuss Letha. Macrinus knows he's going to get what he wants.

Warnings: Suggestions of period-typical treatment of women, 18+ only

Word Count: 2.8k

Part 5 of 15

[ Part IV ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is probably, maybe, the most Macrinus we'll have in a single part. Thank you Denzel for portraying Macrinus as you did. He's just so charming!

“You look horrible,” Caracalla commented. He sat at the long table, picking at the spread of fruits and other things, occasionally tossing something to Dondus.

Upon getting dressed the guard outside Letha’s door had led her here, to a large dining table containing various fruits and even some bread, a reasonable portion compared to the excess she’d been exposed to over the last few days. It seemed she would be breaking her fast with the Emperors now. She definitely preferred it over the heavy stares of Macrinus’s gladiators as she stood off to the side in their dusty dining hall, munching on a scrap of bread.

“You’ll have to forgive me, your majesty, my head is still spinning,” she confessed, sinking into one of the dining chairs on the opposite side, waiting for her head to catch up with the movement.

Caracalla laughed. “Did my brother give you too much?”

At the mention of his brother, Letha’s cheeks flushed.

She could still vividly picture the way Geta looked that morning when he’d followed the healer into her room. When he asked her how she felt his voice was a bit lower than usual. He wasn’t all made up yet, and the robe he wore wasn’t as ornate or decorative as anything she’d seen him in before. And startlingly, he lacked the laurels he and his brother wore. He looked tired, but ordinary. Human. The guard must have roused him from sleep. The idea of it made her heartbeat quicken.

“I don’t know that there’s a right amount,” she sighed, her head still pounding.

“Sure there is,” he smiled. He looked up past her and his smile grew wider. “Ah, speaking of people looking horrible, brother,” Caracalla joked, falling into a fit of giggles under Geta’s intense stare.

The chair beside Letha was pulled out and Geta sat, still clad in only a robe, one of his hands holding it closed. A sigh left him as he allowed himself to be still for a moment, the first moment since he’d been roused from sleep.

“Are you okay?” Letha asked, watching him. His eyes were shut, his head leaned back against the chair. Her eyes trailed down his pale neck as he swallowed, steeling himself before he relaxed, sitting up straighter. His eyes met Letha’s, catching her staring.

“Fine,” he assured her, though his terse tone was far from reassuring. He reached across the table and picked up a shiny apple, staring down at it as if uncertain if he wanted to eat it or not.

“What my brother means to say is no,” Caracalla grinned. Geta’s eyes darted up to stare down his brother. But Caracalla continued, undaunted. “He couldn’t sleep, surely, probably still thinking about the–”

“Brother,” Geta warned.

“You’re no fun,” Caracalla sighed, backing down. His eyes flitted over to Letha and his smile returned. “I know you got stabbed and all, but you’ll still join us today, right?”

“I-If you want me to, your majesty,” she answered. Caracalla was quite different from his brother. He seemed to be good at reading people. His brother, anyway. Letha wondered how he’d picked up such a skill.

“I do,” Caracalla confirmed, getting to his feet. “You can sit with me,” he grinned, leaving the table before anyone could dissuade him. This was it, this was what Macrinus wanted. But why did it feel so off-putting?

The room grew quiet in the absence of the more chaotic brother. Letha finally allowed herself to pluck a grape from the stem, turning her cheek to Geta as she ate it. Why had he sat so close? She could hear him breathing, it was so quiet.

“You protected us,” Geta finally acknowledged. The apple sat in front of him on the table, untouched.

“No one else was doing anything,” she answered, plucking another grape free.

He nodded. “A severe lapse, one I’ve been assured won’t happen again.”

“Good.” She ate the sweet grape, and then another.

“Where did you get a knife from?” he questioned, his ringless fingers moving the apple around on the table top.

“I kept one in my dress. I had a pocket where I hid it,” she explained.

That seemed to alarm him. “Did you have it that night?” He didn’t have to specify, she knew which night he was referring to. The only other night. So he did remember.

She met his eyes, a cautious smile she couldn’t hide spreading across her face. “Yes.”

“Who are you to Macrinus, really?” He seemed genuinely curious, if not a little suspicious. “You aren’t bedding him, or so you say–”

“—I’m not,” she insisted.

“—and you aren’t a maid, far from it. I’ve seen you fend off a man almost twice your size, and you know exactly where to cut a man to kill him quickly. So, who are you?”

She eyed him warily, unsure of how much or how little to tell him. Something about him gave her the impression that he would appreciate honesty. “My brother taught me how to look after myself,” she explained. He was probably scolding her all the way from Elysium, calling her reckless, furious at the warmth she felt at the sight of a Roman Emperor.

“And Macrinus bought me from one of your generals.” After they killed my family, she wanted to say. She didn’t have to, the look in his eyes implying that he seemed to understand that much. Her anger and hurt was beginning to return. “He started bringing me out with him, for his safety.”

He seemed concerned, and she couldn’t blame him. But she had defended them from a threat. If she truly wanted them dead, she could argue, she wouldn’t have intervened.

“Well, the city of Rome thanks you, Letha,” he said, getting to his feet. Any familiarity she had experienced with him was gone, it was all formal. “You will be honored once you are feeling better.” The way he kept his eyes off hers, the stiff way he spoke to her now, it ate at her. He was so hot and cold, one moment entirely too comfortable with her, and now he was the Emperor, despite not wearing the crown. She decided immediately that she much preferred the man.

“Thank you, Emperor,” she replied, echoing his formality.

He noticed, his eyes locking in on hers for a moment. “I will send some of our maids to see to your needs. If you require anything further, just ask.”

“I want to speak with Macrinus,” she blurted out, trying to catch Geta before he slipped out of the room.

“I will let him know.” And with that, he was gone.

Macrinus studied the busts adorning the alcoves that were interspersed along the hallway, imagining his own visage chipped out of marble, sitting on a pedestal as proudly as these men, these tyrants. No, he was too good for that. Instead, he would take his time here, some days from now, and slowly tip them over, one by one, and get great satisfaction as the faces splintered and cracked on the floor.

“Macrinus,” Geta greeted, very much the image of a magnanimous god in his elaborate clothes and shining gold jewels. Macrinus could see the youth in his features, could see him for what he truly was. Not a god, nor an Emperor. Just a boy, a boy given the reins to a raging, bloodthirsty empire with one instruction. Grow, spread like a disease. Though it seems the twins were never taught when to cut it off.

Macrinus could see traces of his father in him. It was Severus’s death that put life back into Macrinus’s dreams. A coup against Septimius Severus? It would never be successful. But after his passing, his fledgling offspring given joint-ownership of the throne? Macrinus dared to dream again.

“Emperor,” he greeted. “Thank you for summoning me. I was so worried about Letha. I hope she has behaved herself.”

Geta quirked an eyebrow. “She’s been a perfect guest.” Macrinus could tell the man had a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he knew better than to show such latent curiosity. “And besides the discomfort, she seems to be just fine.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news. I was hoping I might speak with her?” Macrinus tried to read Geta's expression. Hesitance.

“I did want to ask something of you, while you’re here,” Geta sidestepped Macrinus’s request.

“Sure, Emperor, anything,” Macrinus answered, hoping to sound a bit like Thraex, with his preening and fawning over the twins.

“My brother, understandably, has been shaken by this… this attempt on his life,” Geta began, turning one of his rings repeatedly. “And I do believe he would feel better if your Letha would stay near, at least for a little while.”

“Emperor Caracalla?” Macrinus questioned, eyes falling to the way Geta’s hands fidgeted. Not just Caracalla.

“Yes,” he confirmed, leaning closer to Macrinus. “But I must confess I have questions I would ask you before I feel comfortable leaving my brother alone with her.”

“Of course, your majesty, I am an open book. What would you like to know?” Macrinus offered, smiling.

“Would you join me in my study?” Geta asked, gesturing behind him.

“I would love to,” Macrinus beamed, clasping his hands together. Geta smiled, abandoning the rings and turning, leading Macrinus through the palatial estate.

Macrinus would be loath to admit it, but he much preferred the Roman style of subterfuge. He would be content to sit back and watch his plans fall into place around him. He yearned for success more than any lover. He hadn’t been searching for his falcon, his shrike, but there she was. Shining brilliantly even under the muck and grime. He paid twice as much as he told himself his limit had been. That certain fury he always sought was swirling in her eyes. The flurry of ideas on how he could wield it made him feel supremely confident that he’d won out on the deal.

The general hadn’t offered her up for sale. As the prisoners were paraded past on the docks, Macrinus noticed the woman being pushed along, her hands bound behind her, looking very much like a ruined princess. A princess that had spent days in the hold of a Roman ship, surely. Her torn dress indicated a comfortable life, but the way her eyes were set in a fixed stare, carved from granite, seemed to speak to her resolve. A quiet sort of anger.

She was separated and Macrinus suspected he knew why. His suspicions were confirmed when General Plautianus strode past, reaching out to drag her out of line and up past the other men. She fought every step with all she had. The men on the docks were forgotten. She had what Macrinus was looking for.

He followed General Plautianus, soon catching up with him. The princess’s eyes fell on him and he could feel the heat of her revulsion at his gaze.

“General,” Macrinus greeted.

“Ah, Macrinus, not waiting for the arena today? We don’t usually see you down here at the docks.” As the General turned to face Macrinus, the woman hidden by his broad shoulders, Macrinus nearly recoiled. There was an angry red line that stretched from the end of his right brow to the back of his head, and where it would’ve intersected his ear, it was gone. The top of the man’s ear was gone. “It’s nothing,” the General spoke, watching Macrinus’s eyes trace over the wound.

“Of course,” Macrinus looked away from the wound, beginning to put two and two together. “You’ve weathered far worse,” he praised, earning a laugh from the General. “A gift?” Macrinus questioned, gesturing to the hidden woman.

“I thought I might tame her for myself, but I’m starting to think she’s more trouble than she’s worth,” the General admitted, gesturing to the wound.

Interesting, Macrinus mused.

“I’m wondering if I might be able to take her off your hands, then,” Macrinus suggested. “It would be a nice change of pace.”

“She’s too highborn for fighting,” the General smirked.

“Who said anything about fighting?” Macrinus joked, laughing with the General.

He could see her fighting the General’s grip, her eyes narrowed at him as if she wanted to kill him. Perfect.

“Name your price,” Macrinus spoke, growing serious.

The General’s smile began to fade. “Gladiatrices have been outlawed,” he warned Macrinus.

“So I am aware,” Macrinus answered. “Name your price.”

“Ten thousand,” the General offered, a challenge.

“What would the Senators say about you kidnapping one of Rome’s new subjects?” Macrinus accused.

“Eight.”

“There could be charges,” Macrinus insinuated, clasping his hands together.

The General frowned deeply. “Five.”

Macrinus smiled. “Viggo!” he called out. Viggo appeared, confusion on his face. “Please take this poor girl. She will be coming back with us,” Macrinus explained. He drew out a pouch and counted out some coins, dropping them into the palm of the General. “Consider it a down payment. I’ll send someone along with the rest this evening. I don’t usually do my trading at the docks,” he explained.

The General grunted and nodded, pocketing the gold. His grip on the woman lessened, and he seemed truly relieved to be handing her off to Viggo. She would be someone else’s problem now.

“Relax!” Viggo pleaded, gripping her upper arms tightly to keep her from running off.

“Always a pleasure,” Macrinus nodded. He turned and walked back to their waiting cart, smiling at the sound of Viggo struggling with her.

“Where is she from?” Geta asked, setting the glass down in front of Macrinus.

“She was with General Plautianus at the docks, so I’d say it’s safe to assume from wherever you sent him, your majesty.”

“Please, we have no need for formality,” Geta insisted, taking a seat at the table across from Macrinus, his own glass on the table before him.

“Of course,” Macrinus nodded.

“And she is now your… guard?”

Macrinus chuckled. “She is quite good at getting one over on men who underestimate her,” he warned. Geta lifted an eyebrow. “She broke the arm of one of my better prospects,” Macrinus explained. Geta leaned forward, his glass abandoned. “He might have been a bit too handsy,” he excused. “She’s quite observant. And who would guess she was dangerous?” Macrinus grinned. “It seemed like the perfect arrangement to me.”

“She was a prisoner, then? But I thought…”

“Oh, no, she was in the custody of General Plautianus. I guess she injured him and he took special offense to that. I did try to warn him of how it might look.” Macrinus took a sip of the sweet wine, always towing the line, baiting the hook. It’s not like Geta made it hard. Macrinus knew it from the moment he’d stood there in the box, staring down at Letha as if she held all his secrets.

“General Plautianus? She took his ear?” Geta asked, more than a little surprised.

“That she did,” Macrinus confirmed. “Despite that, she seemed like she could be reasoned with.”

Geta sat back, absorbing the information.

“I must say, I did not expect her to fend off that assassin,” Macrinus spoke, growing more serious. “I am grateful though, losing either of you would be a very dark day for Rome.”

Geta watched Macrinus, taking a sip from his glass. “I, too, am grateful for her intervention. Tegula has assured me this will not happen again.”

“Wasn’t it one of his men? He wore their armor.”

Geta nodded. “It was. They found a large sum of gold stashed in his home. We do not know yet who paid him, but we expect there will be a reprisal.”

“And you want Letha.”

“I need her with my brother. If she is able to be trusted, I would like her to keep him safe from any other rogue Praetorians. For if there was one, there will likely be another.” Geta downed the rest of the wine, setting the empty glass on the table. “I am no fool, we do not inspire the same degree of loyalty that my father did.”

Macrinus wanted to grin. He didn’t. “It is always difficult, living up to a father’s reputation.”

“I don’t wish to be anything like him,” Geta admitted, meeting Macrinus’s eyes. “He has left us rudderless.”

“Well, Geta, If I may be so bold,” Macrinus spoke, leaning across the table. Geta mirrored him. “I could offer you some guidance. Only if you wanted it, of course,” he smiled.

He could see Geta’s trust in him blossoming. “I would love to hear it.”

“I would first suggest raising the wages of your guards. It might make them think twice before accepting another bribe.”

Geta nodded. “Yes, yes I see how that could benefit us.”

“And you can have Letha, if it would give you peace.” Macrinus chose his words carefully. He watched Geta’s every move, every blink.

A smile threatened to spread across his face but he tamped it down. “I do think it would, Macrinus, thank you.”

“A gift, Geta, to you. A token of our new friendship?”

“Friendship. Yes.” Geta finally allowed himself a smile. “Please, accompany us to the Colosseum today?”

“It would be an honor.” Macrinus mirrored Geta’s smile.

Perfect. Just as planned.

[ Part VI ]

#Emperor geta x ofc #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn

50 notes · View notes

darkmoonchild · 4 months ago

Text

Happy Halloween

•This was supposed to be a cute little installment for my Daddy Vessel series for Halloween, but I didn’t get to post it because *cardi b voice* coronavirus hit my household and I’ve been down for the count. I still wanted to post this though and just pretend that it’s still Halloween (even though technically it was three days ago but no one pay attention to that, please?). But anyways…uh…here we goooo!•

~Vessel x Fem!Reader (pretty much a given atp).

~Emma’s age in this fic is 5 years old. (Also there is a use of her full name which is Emma-Leigh. Just throwing that out there.)

•Warnings: There is slight sexual content in this story, but nothing goes too too far. This is mainly just a fluff fic.

•Story circa 2018•

———————————————————————————

You stood in the kitchen at the sink humming to yourself, washing the dishes from lunch. A smile formed on your face as you looked out the window, seeing the grey cloud covered sky and the beautiful autumn leaves. You laughed a little seeing the remnants of yesterday fun of jumping in the fallen leaves after hours of raking them up to place them in trash bags. You and your boyfriend of a full year, Vessel, had III to thank for that. One jump into the pile of leaves and it did not take long for your five-year-old daughter Emma to follow suit, then followed by everyone else—you, Vessel, IV, II and IV’s girlfriend Viola.

You had just finished loading the dishes into the dish washer when the front door to the flat opened and then closed, you looked over your shoulder to see Vessel making his way into the kitchen. You eyed him slowly from head to toe, taking in the sight of his shaggy hair underneath his black beanie, the way his grey t-shirt rode up over his stomach and showing his abs after he removed his favored Alpha Wold hoodie off before laying in on the back of a kitchen chair, and the way his jeans fit him just right. It was enough to make your mouth water but you refrained.

“Hello there handsome,” You greeted him with a smile. Vessel looked at you with sparkling eyes and a wide smile. He came over and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Hello my darling,” he said lovingly, kissing the top of your head. You two staid like that a few minutes longer before you could feel him shifting a bit from where your head rested on his chest. He was obviously looking around. “Where’s Bug?”

Bug. An affectionate nickname Vessel has been calling your daughter since the two of you got together. Everyone else usually called her Emmie but Vessel liked Bug more. It had something to do with the butterfly dress and headband she was wearing the day you finally introduced the two of them together. And that little meeting sealed everything because it was an instant connection between the two of them, which you were extremely grateful for.

“She’s taking a nap,” You said with a smile as you looked up at him. You reached up on your tiptoes to give his check a quick kiss before pulling away from his embrace. “I’m going to wake her up soon so I can start getting her ready for tonight.”

Vessel smiled at that. “Our first family Halloween outing.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t swoon a little bit at that comment. This was the first official “family Halloween outing” you three would have, and there were hopefully many more to come until Emma deemed herself too old for trick-or-treating.

“I know I can’t wait.”

You took his hand and the both of you walked into the living room. Vessel sat on the couch and before you could even move past him to sit beside him, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to sit down on his lap. A tiny squeak left your mouth at the sudden action, only for giggles to come out next when Vessie began peppering light kisses to your cheeks, your nose and neck. You turned in his lap facing him, both your legs on either side of his hips as you straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

The both of you stared at each other lovingly, soft smiles on your faces before you leaned down and captured his lips with yours. You both kissed each other slowly, the kiss deepening as Vessel’s large hands soon moved down from your waist to your hips, squeezing them lightly. As if on instant your hips began to move against him, earning a deep groan from his throat as you continued to kiss.

“How much time do you think we have before Emma wakes up?” Vessel asked you, a bit breathless when he broke away from the kiss. His hands left your hips to cup your ass, helping you grind back and forth on his hardening member inside his jeans.

You opened your mouth to give your reply but was cut off when you heard Emma calling you from upstairs, her little voice still full of sleep.

“I guess that answers our question,” You reply. A laugh fell from your lips as Vessel laid his forehead on your shoulder, groaning some. You knew there was a pout on his face. You raised his head up and held his face in both of your hands, revealing indeed a pout on his lips. You kisses them. “We’ll continue this later.”

Vessel smiled and nodded and allowed you to get off of his lap to go and retrieve Emma, and he placed one of the throw pillows on his lap to hide the tent in his pants. It was going down but not fast enough for his liking. A moment later you came down with Emma in your arms, dressed in her little blue nightgown with Gengar, Haunter and Ghastly on it. II had found that for her one day when he was out and Vessel still was unsure where he found it, the drummer would never open his mouth to reveal it. Apparently he was trying to stay on top of III as the favorite but honestly other than him and you, IV was Emma’s favorite. II and III just refused to accept that fact.

“Hey, my sweet Bug,” Vessel greeted the small girl softly as you brought her over to the couch. You sat down with her on your lap, rubbing her hair and back as Emma rested against you. She was still tired but was trying to wake herself up. Vessel reached over and rubbed his index finger up and down her chubby little cheek. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Mhm,” Emma answered with a little head nod. A yawn escaped from her mouth and she rubbed her eyes with her little fist. She blinked a few times before reaching her arms out for Vessel, making sure to mimic her mother with the grabby hands. “Can you hold me now Vessie?”

Vessie. The little nickname Emma calls your boyfriend. You think it was an easier way for her to actual say Vessel, but who really knows when it comes to children. Either way Vessel wears it like a badge of honor. He refuses to allow anyone other than Emma to call him that.

Vessel gave you a quick look and you raised a brow, a silent question forming as your eyes slowly trailed to the pillow sitting on his lap. Vessel cleared his throat.

“Now right now, Bug,” he spoke softly to the child. A pout began forming on Emma’s face and the large puppy eyes came out, the grabby hands continuing in his direction. He knew she’d keep this up until he reached for her, so he had to come up with something. He smiled. “How about you and mama get ready for tonight and Vessie will hold you while we’re out? That sound good?”

Emma thought for a moment—well, really a few seconds before a large smile spread across her face, replacing the precious pout and puppy eyes as she nodded enthusiastically. Both you and Vessel watched as she squirmed out of your hold and grabbed your hand in hers, instantly attempting to pull you from your seat on the couch.

“Come on, mama, come on!” Emma exclaimed, her voice high pitched as she continued to “pull” you up from the couch. You laughed and humored her, allowing her to believe she pulled you up all by her little mighty self.

🎃🎃🎃

“You didn’t have to put the costume on, Vess, you know that right?”

When the idea of having all three of you in matching Halloween costumes came to your head weeks ago, it seemed like the cutest—and greatest—plan. Emma had recently gotten into older, classic Disney movies and Peter Pan was her favorite at the moment. You had to order the costumes off of Amazon since none of the local shops carried the specific ones you wanted—or need.

You would be Wendy, Emma was Tinkerbell and Vessel…

“Why wouldn’t I want to wear the costume?” Vessel questioned, turning his head to look at you. Emma was in front of the two of you, among a bunch of other children, waiting patiently as the elderly lady filled their bags with candy. Vessel looked down at his attire—a green cap with a red feather sticking out of it, a green tunic, cloth tights, a fake golden sword wrapped around his waist and his doc martens. His shoes were the only none costume related thing on him. Vessel said since you three would be walking, his reliable shoes seemed a bit better than the soft brown things that came with the Peter Pan get up. Vessel opened his arms out wide, head tilting to the side looking at you. “I don’t mind it. And it made you and Bug happy to see me in it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged. “I just thought maybe you would have been happier in your normal clothes,” You replied. You watched as Emma and a few kids squeal in happiness as they got their trick-or-treat bags filled with delicious sweets. You already knew you were going to have to limit how much Emma consumed tonight. And you knew that went double for Vessel as well. You sighed, “Even before we had her, Emma’s dad thought the whole matching costumes thing was stupid. He shot down every attempt I tried every single year. And I had this cutest idea thought out for Emma’s first Halloween, got us matching suits and everything, thought that maybe he’d give it a chance since it was for our daughter but he…he told me I wasted money on something he wasn’t even going to wear or something Emma wasn’t even going to remember. Mentioned how he’d be the laughing stock of his buddies and the guys he worked with if they just so happened to be put with their kids or fucking out in general. He wanted me to take them back but I didn’t. My brother-in-law Rowan got his costume, I wore mine, my sister Claudia aomehow found a matching costume of her own within an hour and Emma had hers. He missed out on his own daughter’s first big holiday because he didn’t want to be embarrassed being seen dressed up with us.”

Vessel smiled softly at you. “And you thought I’d be embarrassed too?” He asked. You said nothing, feeling your cheeks burn with a blush as you refused to look at him. You knew Vessel was nothing like your ex but it was hard to erase the bad memories sometimes, and every now and again they would seep in through the tiny cracks that were beginning to heal, and bleed into this relationship. Vessel was always thankfully so patient.

The next thing you knew, long and strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into a firm chest. You turned in Vessel’s embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head on his chest. Vessel squeezed you tightly, placing a kiss on top of your hair. “I’ll never be embarrassed doing anything with you two,” Vessel said softly. “I missed a lot of firsts in Emma’s little life, but I’m so happy I get to be apart of the next big things to come moving forward. And if that means I have to dress up as Peter Pan, or Steve from Blue’s Clues, or Tickle Me Elmo, or even that Godforsaken big purple dinosaur, I will if it means I get to make my girls happy. I will, Y/N. I love you and I love Emma-Leigh more than either of you will ever know.”

Everything seemed to stopped for what seemed like hours and hours as you looked up at Vessel, eyes wide and mouth opened slightly. He only smiled down at you, not phased by your expression at all. Did he…?

“You just said you loved me,” You spoke after a long pause. “I mean, you also said you loved Emma…but that’s the first time you ever told me you loved me, Vess.”

“Well, I thought maybe tonight would be the night I did,” Vessel said with a chuckle. He kisses the crown of your head. “Because I do, Y/N. I love you. My world was black and white before I met you and Emma. You two made everything colorful for me.”

You hugged Vessel tighter, feeling tears pricking your eyes and it took everything you had to force them down. You knew they were happy tears, but dammit you were not going to be seen crying in front of neighbors houses and random people you didn’t know that well. Plus, tonight was about Emma and making sure she had a great Halloween..

“I love you, too, Vessel,” You admitted. You voice soft and a smile on your face. “I love you so much. But I do hate to inform you, you have now given me a great idea for our Halloween costumes next year with bringing Barney into the equation.”

“Y/N,” Vessel warned. His voice was still playful, even if he tried to sound serious. You could hear the smile in his tone. He had made it clear Barney was not his favorite growing up but he tolerated it because you grew up on the thing, and Emma was following close in your footsteps. You couldn’t do anything but laugh.

A moment later an excited Emma came running back to the two of you, her pink jack-o-lantern pail bouncing as she did. It was a wonder that none of her candy she had collected within the few hours you three had been out flew out from the opening, and a part of you was glad it did. You really didn’t feel like picking pieces of candy up out of someone’s yard, yet for Emma you knew that you would in a heartbeat. She reached into her pail and pulled out two full size chocolate bars, a wide smile on her face that causes her eyes to sparkle brightly even in the light of dusk.

“Look look look look!” Emma bounced on her tiptoes excitedly. “I got full bars!”

“Wow, Bug, that’s awesome!” Vessel beamed down at her. He crouched down to be eye level with her. “You know where else you’re probably gonna get a full size bar? Maybe even three bars?”

Emma tilted her head, her smiling fading in her curious confusion. “Where Vessie?”

“Uncle Ivy and Auntie Vi’s place,” Vessel answered. He watched as the little girl’s smile grew wide once more and the excitement came back. Emma placed her candy bars back into her pail and grabbed Vessel’s hand after he had risen back to his full height. Vessel chuckled down at her. “I guess you’re ready to go then, huh?”

“Yes yes yes yes!” Emma beamed excitedly. “I’m ready to get some more yummy candy and ready to let Uncle Ivy and Aunt Vi see my costume!”

You giggled at your daughter’s enthusiasm in seeing IV and Viola. You took Emma’s candy pail in one hand and grabbed her other little hand with your free one, allowing you and Vessel both to hold her hand as you three walked down the street. Occasionally you and Vessel would swing Emma back and forth between the two of you, reciting the phrase “faith, trust and pixie dust” as you did so. Emma used the pixie dust part to raise her little legs up, letting you and Vessel swing her easily. Her little giggles was the music to both yours and your boyfriend’s ears.

“You know there’s a possibility III is going to be there, too, right?” You asked Vessel a bit later as you three got closer towards IV and Viola’s flat.

Like IV, III was a long time friend of Vessel’s and another member to their band Sleep Token. By the time you and Vessel had gotten together, they had released two albums at that point. They were working on releasing another one now, after they made sure everything was perfect after what had been a two year break since their Two album.

It was four of them; Vessel the lead vocalist but also provides helps with other musical instruments, II the drummer, III the bassist and IV the guitarist who also lends a hand on backup vocals (mainly screams) when he is needed. They were four guys making a name for themselves but to you, they were just…the guys. One your dear, darling boyfriend and the other three the craziest nut jobs you’ve been so lucky to call your friends for the past year, and who you were grateful they accepted you and Emma into their lives as fast as they did.

“And if he decides to laugh at me and this costume…” Vessel began but trailed off, looking down at Emma between the two of you. You could see he was mauling over the exact words he should use next, not really wanting Emma to hear him say something and then think it was okay to say it as also. He cleared his throat some before looking back at you, his voice low and he was trying to give off a serious look. “Well, let’s just say this sword is going to be shoved so far up somewhere the sun doesn’t shine.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. The guys loved to mess with one another, III more than most. He was a lovable jokester but sometimes he did manage to get up under the others skin just right and it usually lead to having full grown me running around chasing one another, threatening to beat one another to a pulp. Usually it never actually got to that point but there were times it did. Apparently rough housing was a big part on their friendship, which was always an odd and stark comparison to how professional and put together they all four could be. Yet, with knowing all of that, you knew Vessel meant what he said about that sword on his side being shoved somewhere if III was there at IV’s and decided to open his big mouth.

🎃🎃🎃

True to his word, Vessel chased III around the front yard of IV and Viola’s flat the minute words of jest left the bassist’s mouth. Vessel wasn’t able to actually shove the sword where the sun didn’t shine, mainly because II and IV broke them apart before the playful rough housing could escalate. Not that you believe Vessel would go that far with Emma present but nothing was certain when it came to these four knuckleheads.

IV and Viola had full size candy bars for Emma, in fact they had four full size candy bars waiting and stashed away just for their favorite fairy. Vessel couldn’t help but throw in a comment about how IV was Emma’s favorite to III, which caused the bassist to start chasing your boyfriend around the front yard again, complete role reversal than earlier. II shook his head and took his seat once again on the front step of the flat, reaching into a bag beside him, the drummer pulled out a stuffed brown teddy bear.

“I figured she’d have an assload of sweets already, so I figured I’d do something a little different.” II held the bear out to Emma. He held his gaze with the child as he spoke to you again. “I figured you wouldn’t mind it as much.”

Emma gasp lightly and placed her pail down before taking the offered bear, and bringing it to her chest for a hug. She swayed side to side before looking at II and going to him before the drummer could blink, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck as she leaped into his arms. The bear made a light thump on his back as Emma held it tightly in her grip. II instinctively wrapped his arms around her tiny body, holding her to him.

It had taken a bit for Emma to get more affectionate towards IV, III and II. II being the one she somehow took the longest to get used to oddly enough. But the minute she was comfortable around her new uncles, the gloves were off and the three men got to know the love and the personality of little Emma. They somewhat now understood why you say the world is Emma’s and everyone else is just living in it. They loved your daughter and in turn Emma loved them, and loved her Auntie Viola as well.

“Thank you, Uncle II!” Emma beamed loudly, her little arms still around the drummer’s neck. “I love him!”

“I’m glad you love him, Emmie,” II said with a smile. He hugged Emma one more time before letting her go and watched her run off back to you. He watched as the little girl excitedly held the bear up to house, bouncing on her tip toes. He chuckled, “I guess I did good.”

“You sure did, II,” You replied back to him. A smile on your face as Emma soon began speaking to her new bear, talking about all the fun they were going to have together and her trying to figure out what his name was going to be. It was pretty cute. “She’s going to take such good care of it.”

“Speaking of things that need to be taken care of,” Viola spoke next, her thick Scottish accent causing everyone—except Emma and her new bear, Mister Bear—to look at her. Viola sat in IV’s lap in the lawn chair they had brought out to hand out candy to the trick-or-treaters, and she pointed a thumb into the direction of where a Peter Pan wearing Vessel and a Deadpool wearing III were still running around the front yard. She raised a pierced eyebrow. “Are we going to stop them anytime soon or are we going to let them keep going? Because I don’t think the remaining treaters are going to be enjoying dodging two fully grown men in Halloween costumes in such a small yard.”

“I got them!” Emma exclaimed before you could tell her to hold on, she took off running after her Vessie and her Uncle III, giggling as she joined in on what she thought was a game. The bear still in her hand.

“Well I suppose all that running will do the trick,” Viola said with a sigh, a laugh soon escaping as she shook her head. “Gonna go from fully energized to chugging along like The Little Engine That Could.”

You laughed and took a seat beside II on the front steps. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a sideways hug as you all watched two grown men in costume chasing after each other, a small little girl in a lime green fairy costume running right behind them.

“Do you mean the two large knuckle heads or Emma?” You asked looking at Viola.

“I say the two dumbasses,” II remarked with a smirk. “No way they’re going to be able to keep this up with their old asses and all. Might break a hip or some shit.”

“Aren’t you guys the same age?” Viola questioned looking over her shoulder at the drummer. She furrowed her pierced brows together. “Aren’t you technically calling yourself old, II?”

II shrugged. “We’re all a few months apart from each other.” He pointed towards Vessel and III, a giggling Emma still following closely behind them. “Those two fuckwits are older. So, they’re more likely to break a hip or just all together go down first before Emma-Leigh does.”

“I second that,” IV spoke up next, taking a hit off of his vape before blowing the scented smoke out into the air. He turned his eyes on you, a playful smile on his face. “But I’m sure Emmie girl won’t be too far behind them.”

You shook your head with a laugh. “I guess we’ll just have to see.”

And see you four did.

After another few minutes of them chasing each other, III lost his footing and fell to the ground. Vessel took the chance and jumped on top of his fallen friend, Emma followed right after. Although she had more innocent intent for III than Vessel did.

Soon, you and your little family were leaving to head back home, seeing Halloween night coming to an end. You held one of Vessel’s hands in yours, Emma’s candy pail in your other and with his free arm Vessel was holding a sleeping Emma on his side. Her tiny arms was wrapped around his neck, her head laying on his shoulder and she breathed in and out softly. Her teddy bear rested carefully in the pail you held in your hand.

“I say she had a great Halloween,” Vessel said before placing a kiss on the crown of Emma’s head. You nodded your head.

“I’d say she did.”

Once you had made it back home, you watched from the doorway of Emma’s room as Vessel laid her down in her bed. You both agreed since she was so tired that she could sleep in her costume tonight, having removed the fairy wings from her back, and you’d give her a shower in the morning.

Vessel carefully got up from where he laid a few extra minutes with Emma, smoothing her hair down and just letting her know his presence was there. It was something he had seen you do a hundred times by now and as he was doing it, he got it. The feeling of being that tiny comfort for her and for you yourself to have that tiny little moment with them, where you got to study every little thing about them. And honestly, now he understands why his mother hated everything about him growing up, her one and only boy. He was going through that now, watching the little girl that stole his heart growing up before his eyes.

It had only been a year he and you had been together, yet in that year he sees where Emma was slowly changing. She was a few inches taller, her hair had gotten a little bit longer and was slowly turning a darker shade, her feet were growing because she had went up a shoe size and she did the same with her clothes. Emma was also starting to want to be more independent. Brushing her own hair (even though you both still had to help), brushing her own teeth (both of you allowed her while you just stood off to the side) and then she also wanted to dress herself (some of the outfits she came up with were adorable in a way, but blue jeans did not go with her yellow dress and the sandals she insisted on wearing from time to time—so that would have to wait).

Emma was growing up before his eyes. A part of him hated she had to grow up, but the other half was excited he was going to get to be a part of it. Vessel would never begin to understand how her biological father could just choose to not be involved with a child like Emma, or just deny her existence until it was convenient for him. If the day came where you and him got to the discussion of your own children, Vessel would make it clear he was there for everything. He wouldn’t jump ship, take on the responsibility that was also his and not abandon you or his children.

Vessel pulled the blankets over Emma’s sleeping form, placing her new teddy bear right beside her before making his way back to you. You and Vessel both walked out of Emma’s room, Vessel gently closing the door of her bedroom behind him, not all the way so it would be open just a crack. You and him made your way up the stairs to your shared bedroom, both ready to change and lay on your comfortable mattress. And that was what you did.

Vessel had changed out of his Peter Pan suit and wore only a pair of black sweatpants that hung low on his hips, and since he decided to wear no shirt you were able to admire his toned and lean body. You trailed your eyes down his chest to his faint lining of the abs he had been working hard on, and thanks to the low hanging sweats you were gifted the sight of the V of his hips. You were sitting on the bed, hanging already changed out of your Wendy costume into one of Vessel’s many black t-shirts, which was long on your shorter frame and wore nothing underneath but a pair of black panties, and you could feel Vessel’s eyes scanning over your body like yours were him.

The minute your boyfriend came to lay down in the bed, you gave him time to get settled on his back before you turned and threw a leg over his waist, straddling him. Your hands found his chest as his grabbed onto the fat of your plush hips. You stared down at him and he stared up at you, his eyes darkening with the same desire as earlier.

“I meant what I said earlier,” You said to your boyfriend, running your nails up and down his chest. You could see the goosebumps that littered his flesh from that action.

“And what was that, love?” Vessel asked, his deep voice all but sounding as a purr as he looked up at you from underneath you. He could feel himself begin to grow inside his sweat pants, and he knew you could as well from where you began moving your hips back and forth, grinding down on him.

“That we were going to finish what we started earlier on the couch,” You said as you leaned down, still moving your hips and grinding your cloth center against Vessel’s growing erection. Vessel tilted his head back as a deep groan left him, giving you access to his neck. You planted kisses on the skin, switching between sweet kisses, light nibbles and sucking the skin of his neck wherever you sunk your teeth down into. You raised your mouth to his ear and you knew he could feel your breath against the shell of it. “Consider this your Halloween treat, baby.”

You have out a squeak when the next thing you knew Vessel flipped the both of you, pinning you underneath him. Now it was your turn to look up at him, feeling the weight of his darken and lustful stare.

A sexy smirk spread across Vessel’s face. And he leaned down close enough to your face, having his lips hovering mere inches above yours. And in a husky tone that always made your knees weak, he said, “well happy fucking Halloween to me then.”

And at that, he crashed his lips against yours in a heated kiss. And the two of you entered a night of passion and bliss.

———————————————————————————

I wasn’t planning on making this as long as I did but here it is. Another adventure of Daddy Vessel, little Emma and you, the oh so lovely reader.

Well, everyone take care now. Bye bye!

🖤🖤🖤

#sleep token #sleep token iii #sleep token fanfiction #vessel sleep token #sleep token ii #sleep token iv #sleep token imagine #vessel x you #vessel x reader #daddy vessel

37 notes · View notes

sugarbombs-n-stuff · 25 days ago

Text

Companions as Parents because of a Science Experiment

Sorry ive been gone for so long, life’s a bitch but may I offer this up? No ada or strong, I’m sorry! Also synth shaun is mentioned at a few points. ENJOY!

Cait: She was confused at first, of course she was! It was supposed to be a routine check up and sole being a lovely partner, joined. She didn’t expect for the doctor to comeback with a baby made from Sole and her’s DNA, LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DUDE. After double and triple checking the infant was in fact, both hers and sole’s, panic and paranoia seeped into her bones like old friends. She was terrified that she would turn out like her parents that she asked sole if they could put the baby up for adoption, surely anyone would do better than her? Sole had said to feel it out for a couple of weeks so she did, she kind of felt bad seeing as the baby girl didn’t even have a name. One night when Cait had sat in the living room feeding the wee bastard, the baby looked up to her with the same green eyes Cait had herself and it was like something clicked in her head. She put the bottle down and brought her closer to her face and she gave her a small kiss. When Sole came out of their shared room an hour or so later, they saw Cait with their baby girl in one arm and a book in another. Cait looked up at her and asked “Which do you like better, Helena or Aoife?”

•They chose Helena

•If they had,had a boy it would have been Tadhg

•She’s cautious and a bit mean at times but she does her best to explain to Helena as she’s growing up

•When her and Sole talked after agreeing to keep her they also made some joint rules for how they would want to raise her

•She’ll point out cute fabrics to make clothes with or cute toys

•Piggy backing on my own headcanon, Cait made her crib and toys through woodworking

•As Helena grew up, she had a biting problem whenever she got angry and while Cait found it a bit funny, after Sole would tell her to stop encouraging her she would do her best to correct Helena’s behavior

Codsworth: Codsworth was overjoyed! He’d always wanted a little boy of his own and sole had made him one! A mini Mr. Handy, a custom made model. Part of him always felt like he failed Sole with Shaun, like he had lost a boy too. He was comforted by the fact Sole would do this for him and he couldn’t wait to show his son the wonders of the commonwealth.

•He named his son Adam, seeing as Sole made him he thought it fitting

•He’d fuss over Adam always, freaking out if even a chip of his paint had come off

•He would start considering transferring himself into a synth body after awhile, same with Adam but for right now he was content

•Adam had a nasty habit of leaking oil and heating up his metal so hot that no one could touch him, poor baby couldn’t control it but Codsworth would give him some coolant and have him sit outside for a little. However if there was nothing he could do and it happened to be winter, he’d walk with his boy around which ever settlement they were at and offer heat

Curie: She did the experiment on herself. She wanted to see what it was like and she could only interview so many pregnant people that she did it herself with the help of Sole. She sliced up the DNA herself and injected herself with it. Sole had made sure that she was alright and had regular brought up that she couldn’t get rid of the baby once it was born and she was fine with that. She knew what childbirth had entailed and she was alright with it, she loved kids after all. She finally gave birth to a baby girl during the summer time, they chose the name Dominique.

•Dominique was born prematurely by a month

•Curie worked with Sole and Sturges to help her as well as regular check ups by her self or Doc Carrington from the railroad

•Dominique ended up being allergic to a dew commonwealth things like hubflower and tarberry but besides that she was a perfectly normal, healthy baby.

•Curie liked to dress her daughter in the cutest outfits. Sole has many pictures of their baby girl in a cute outfit that they had made with a matching hat and fashion glasses when curie was doing field research

•Curie monitors how she moves and what food she does and doesn’t like, if she obtains anymore allergies, what toys she likes playing with etc

•Curie is overjoyed when Dominique starts getting into science toys

•Loves being a mom but also makes sure to remember that she’s not just a mom

Danse: Listen, it’s not that Danse didn’t want a kid, it’s just what would he do with it?! He left the brotherhood and is a minuteman now but what if that puts their child in more danger?! His worries clear up when Sole and the doctor come back with their baby, a little boy who looks like the perfect mix of Danse and Sole. Sole hands him the baby and while the fear is still there, it’s overcome by joy. This is their little boy, and he’ll do anything to protect him.

•They name him James but they call him Jamie

•If they had a girl, her name would have been May

•Danse is overprotective, full on helicopter parent but Sole helps calm him down

•The first time Jamie got sick he started hyperventilating cause he was so nervous but eventually calmed down when he was informed that it was a cold and he’ll be okay.

•Was happy to teach Jamie how to hunt when he expressed that he wanted to learn

•Does classic dad stuff, like stereotypical

•Starts drinking concerning amounts of coffee after Jamie is born to the point that sole had to put a limit on him

Deacon:He didn’t deserve this. Babies were too pure and he felt like he was going to taint this kid. But eventually he thought about it and he had always wanted kids, he was good with them he’d say. He was still a little hesitant but then fully leaned into being a dad and was happy to do it with Sole. Especially when he saw their little science baby. And she was beautiful, she had his red hair but her eyes were like Sole’s except for the fact that they were far apart and he had only seen that distance and face shape on one person. He guessed maybe Barbara made her own claim on the baby in some way.

•They named their daughter Lily, he had wanted to name her Mazikeen after a book character but Sole swiftly vetoed that

•Like he is as a person, as a dad he puts on a care free attitude but is truthfully very paranoid

•He cuts her nails often so she doesn’t scratch herself because when she was starting to grow them , she scratched at her face so badly she bled

•He will take goofy pictures with her like her chewing on his glasses or her covered in food and her with the worse case of bed head

•With friends, he is absolutely the type of dad to show off these pictures to them

• “You can’t say you don’t like it if you haven’t tried it”

•When Lily was a baby, in winter he would put her bassinet outside after it snowed to take a nap in so it could build her immune system

•100% has eaten baby food and will again “It’s not that bad, wanderer , you’re just pre-war and picky”

•HATES the smell of the baby formula so they either feed her brahmin milk or donated breast milk from one of the minuteman charities

•Will often take her to Carrington for checkups

Hancock: Listen, Hancock got around. He’s surprised that he doesn’t have more “ooopsie babies” besides Fahrenheit. What he wasn’t expecting was to settle down and have a freaking magic baby!? Ok maybe not magic but with how near-dead his swimmers are, may as well be. But now he was sitting with his partner holding their blonde-headed baby boy.

•They named him Felix

•If they had a girl, her name would have been Lola

•Hancock was anxious that the baby would come out weird looking but the only ghoul trait Felix has is that he’s immune to radiation which is a pretty damn good trait

•He kind of fucked up with Fahrenheit so after Felix was born he wanted to make amends for the sake of both of his kids.

•He is genuinely care free but protective of Felix

•He tries his best to clean up Goodneighbor some, both literally and physically

• “Dad, there’s like whore’s here and stuff.” “How many times have i told you to not say ‘and stuff’, just say ‘Dad, there are whore’s here’”

•Felix is sarcastic to the max and Sole and Hancock find it so entertaining

•Gets antsy when Sole takes Felix to Diamond City for a number of reasons

•Felix is terrified of Mirelurks so they rarely take him near the beach, mostly Salem and Quincy

•Cleans up his act for the most part too, doesn’t want his son to turn out like him and get into drugs

MacCready: Oh boy, another one. He was excited the moment Sole brought it up and they were happy to tell Duncan. Like with deacon, the baby had Lucy’s eyes and their shape. Both Sole and Mac thought their baby girl was just darling.

•They named her Annette

•Like Mac and Duncan, she was allergic to dust

•MacCready and Sole take the kids on walks just to make sure they both get enough sunshine

•He panics bad when Annette gets sick. He reminds himself that what happened to Duncan won’t happen to Annette. Though it takes awhile for him to believe it

•Annette ends up being the polar opposite of Duncan, she likes reading and coloring and she likes to be on the swings but she doesn’t want to be out there two long

•The swear jar continues, he got swindled out of 10 caps once cause he went on a tirade in front of Duncan and Annette. Duncan stopped showing Annette his comic books and leveled Mac with a stare that he swear bore into his soul. His loving spouse Sole, couldn’t stop laughing for a hot minute afterwards.

Nick: When sole had brought it up he was hesitant. Making a synth like shaun, who could grow has they aged? Eventually he got around to the idea and thats how he ended up with their son Carlo.

•Loves singing to him

•Invites Ellie over to meet him “Nick, OMG HES ADORABLE”

•Wouldn’t really know what to do about changing them but would learn quickly, he’s not just dumping that on sole

•As Carlo grows up he does his best to instill a good moral code in him.

•He isn’t quick to anger but he’s not going to coddle him either

•He’ll make sure Carlo knows that he’s loved more than anything though

Piper: Hell yeah she wants a baby! She liked raising nat so she thinks she’ll like raising this baby girl.

•She names her Mina, she didn’t let Sole pick the name

•Sole made her attend parenting classes with them because they didn’t like how she left nat alone

•She slows down on journaling, doesn’t stop but she wants to spend more time with her family

•Mina needed glasses from a very early age which caused Piper to star calling her Bug cause her glasses made her eyes huge

•Mina runs into everything, just like Piper, both very accident prone

Preston: Since his mental health had gotten better he loved the idea of having kids and loved shaun more than anything else. Naturally when Sole brought up having one through science, he was cautious but excited. Somehow he ended up with twins, a little boy and girl and he loved them more than anything.

•His kids names are Loucilla and Ben

•He was surprised that there were two but they immediately became his pride and joy

•Yall know jack from This is Us, that’s Preston as a dad.

•Loucilla got the nick name “Silly-Lou” early on because she would try to chew on ben’s hands, Preston’s nose ,Sole’s hair, and Shaun’s Ear. The first time she did it she immediately rolled forward

•Ben’s nick name is Bean/Beanie cause thats what Shaun had thought you said at first

•Shaun was the one to give both babies their nicknames

•Preston always tells people that he has three kids “That one doesn’t look much like you” “Huh, Weird, you must be seeing things”

•Like many fathers before him, he had kids and immediately became the master of the grill

X6-88: It took awhile and a lot of therapy but X6 is a person and he can admit that now. As a person he really wants a kid, he brings it up to Sole first. Sole agrees and nine months later he’s having skin to skin with his daughter.

•They named her Corrine

•X6 acted quite mechanically towards her at first, even sing to her in a monotone voice

•Corrine was a coneheaded baby and it freaked X6 out though Sole did their best to convince him that she was alright and not an alien

•Sole commonly finds X6 standing in the door of her nursery just staring at her

•He’ll change her diapers and sole deals with the spit up

•Will NOT let anyone but him and sole kiss her, if his baby girl gets sick, all of Sanctuary will have hell to pay

•Definitely taught Corrine how to swim by chucking her in the lake behind Sanctuary, she didn’t talk to him for the rest of the week

Gage: Settled down for some fucken ankle biter? What the hell,sure.

•Surprisingly really good with kids, or his and sole’s son, Monty

•He sews Monty 1, count it 1, stuffed animal. Its a baby deathclaw

•Refuses to change a diaper, you can not force him to do it

•Despite looking like he hasn’t bathed in 10 years, he makes sure Monty gets his bath every other day.

•Would rather gut himself than show Monty to the gangs

•He won’t sing to him however humming isn’t singing

•He’s rough with teaching Monty as he gets older. Strike first and strike hard

•Sole calls him cruel at times and he just stares at them like “yeah, no fucking shit”

•Cares about his kid but there may be a few years where they only talk to each other once a day in passing

#fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 headcanon #deacon fo4 #hancock fo4 #nick valentine #sole survivor #fallout meta #fo4 companions #piper wright #paladin danse #curie fo4 #porter gage #maccready fallout 4 #cait fo4 #fallout 4 #danse fallout 4 #fo4

28 notes · View notes

mangosrar · 1 year ago

Text

Tough guy Jasper.

pt2 of middle game!!

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

pt1 “middle game”

warnings: alottttt of angst, fighting, chris being a hero 🫶

"Hey nick whats up?". It was currently around 6.30pm on a friday night and Rue was getting ready for a party. Some influencer had invited her, Nick, Matt and Chris and each of them a plus one. Nick and Matt had decided against bringing anyone but, obviously Chris was bringing his girlfriend, Sophie, and Rue was bringing Jasper, her boyfriend of 4 months. How fun.

"I was just wondering if you needed Matt to pick you up later?" His voice rang through the speaker.

"Uh no its good Jaspers gonna drive us there" The girl internally screamed at the thought of Chris and Jasper being within a mile radious of eachother. Truth was, after Rue and Chris had confessed to being in love with eachother, they fooled around for a while before Chris miraculously decided he wasnt ready for a relationship. So naturally Rue did what she saw best fit: to get over one man, get under another, however the irony was, she was still getting under the guy she was trying to get over. Both of them were just as bad as eachother, proven so, when Chris had found out that his beloved Rue had moved on, obviously he had to do the same.

"Oh okay cool. I cant wait to see you, we havent seen you in like 2 weeks bro" Rue couldn’t help but scrunch her face up at the word. We. She wished she could be honest with her best friend but how was she supposed to say 'Nick youre so silly, its just you and matt i havent seen, i was actually getting my bones jumped by your brother last night behind my boyfriends back but snuck out this morning before anyone was up. See you at the party!!!'. She was doomed.

"Me too Nick, ive missed you so much" She wrapped up the conversation and carried on getting ready, but she couldn’t shake the overarching feeling of guilt. She was lying to everyone she loved. Well all but one.

7.30 pm rolled around fast and before she knew it she was waiting for Jasper to pull up. She felt and looked great. Clad in a skin tight dress that stopped just below her knees, white heels, and a perfect amount of clevage on show. Jasper will love this, but Chris would love it more. And just like he infiltrated her thoughts, he infiltrated her attention. Her phone chimed and she raced to check it.

Chris: Tough guy Jaspers coming huh?

Rue: Yes. Sophie?

Chris: Na something came up shes not coming. But you will be 🙃

Rue: Talkin about you "making me come" and your girlfriends name in the same sentence? player

Chris: You know it sweetheart. See you soon.

Asshole.

The party was heaving by the time they arrived. The smell of alcohol and weed heavy in the air. Nick had quickly found Rue and Jasper, Matt in tow, but Chris was nowhere to be seen.

"Wheres Chris?" She couldnt help but ask, curiosity killed the cat.

"Hes outside on the phone to Sophie, he'll be over in a sec" Matt replied shooting her a tight lipped smile. Rue was never really that close to Matt, sure they were freinds but not like how she was with Chris or Nick.

"Speak of the devil and he shall apear" Jasper muttered but it fell on deaf ears, hed said it quiet enough for only her to hear. Jasper was never really fond of Chris. Or anyone who came near his girlfriend really. He always said Chris was 'too friendly' or 'too handsy'. You dont know the half of it.

"Rue, long time no see" Chris pulled rue in for a hug. His hands rested just above her ass and he seperated himself from the girl with a toothy grin, she threw him a warning look saying 'carefull', he just moved his eyes to the left of her and let them land on Jasper.

"What up bro" Chris held his hand out for Jasper to take and he ignored him completely. Not even sparing him a glance.

"Jas dont be rude" She looked over to Jasper with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows, after realising she had been staring at Chris this entire time. Jasper just scoffed and continued looking everywhere but Rue or her friends. Rue wanted the floor to open and swallow her up right there and then. Chris just raised his eyebrows and scoffed with a surprised smile turning to look at the poor girl. The look on his face told her everything his mouth didnt. Tough guy Jasper. Huh.

"Im gonna go get a drink ill be back in a sec" She didnt even wanna think about how awkward it would be after she walked away. Making a bee line for the kitchen island that was full of different drinks, she picked up the vodka, popped the lid off the bottle and started chugging. Ew.

The party was now well and truly under way and Rue was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol. Chris had been watching her all night, he was like a hunter watching its prey, ready to pounce any second. He had been watching Jasper put his hands all over Rue where his should be. He hated it. It was like torture. He just wanted to go over there and beat Jasper to a bloody pulp, but somehow he couldnt help but be angry at her. He couldnt understand why she was letting Jasper touch her like that when she knew Chris was watching.

There were drunk or high bodies dancing all over eachother, including Rue and Jasper. He was far too drunk for his girlfriends liking but she didnt care. Her back was flush to his chest and she was dancing on him like it was nobodys business. except Chris'. He was like a hawk. He sat across from where they were dancing, scowl on his face, smoking a blunt, man spreading in all his glory for her too see, and god did he look sexy. If it wasnt for the man behind her whispering how horny he was in her ear, she would have walked Chris out of that party and fucked him in the car. For a moment she considered it, but Jasper had other ideas.

He grabbed her arm and before she knew it they were in the hallway about to be lead up the stairs. The same stairs she had just been up with Chris about an hour ago. His face between her legs in some random bathroom, her hand slapped over her mouth.

"You like this dont you mh? Coming on my face while you’re boyfriend waits for you down stairs?" He tutted at her.

"I hope you dont kiss your girlfreind with that mouth" She breathed out in a strangled whine, as Chris dived back in, devouring her like a starved man. He didn’t even bother to respond, he just looked up at her and smirked.

Focus Rue.

She pulled back slightly stopping her boyfreind in his tracks.

"What are you doing?" Her voice slightly raised so he would hear you over the music. Jasper came closer to her grabbing her ass, moving his face down to her ear, planting kisses there.

"Come on baby i need you right now" He continued running his hands all over, despite rue trying to push him off.

"I dont want to Jasper. lets just wait until we get home" He was a man who could not be moved. He continued pulling her towards the stairs but she was having none of it.

"Jas come on" Rue struggled in his grip. He ignored her protests and carried on pulling her arm. His grip was unwavering and she was sure there would be bruises in the morning. Rue wasn’t weak by any means, but Jasper was much stronger than she was.

"Jasper stop it, youre hurting me" She was now panicked and stone cold sober, distress evident in her shaky voice, and desperately pulling against him but he was not letting up. He carried on pulling her through the hall way towards the stairs in a death grip.

She was helpless, the only thing running through her mind was how Chris would never do this. Chris. Chris. Chris.

CHRIS.

Before she could even protest Chris had lached his hands onto Jaspers shirt, roughly pulling him back, away from Rue. Jasper came stumbling back and it was like everything was suddenly going in slowmotion. The look on Chris' face spoke volumes, 'i’m going to tell him'. She kept her eyes on his, wordlessly begging not to say anything. But before she could even get a word in, Chris opened his mouth.

"She asked you to stop tough guy" His chest was heaving and he looked like he was about to rip Jaspers throat out. He protectively stood infront of the girl, putting a barrier between Rue and her boyfriend. People were now crowding around the two boys after hearing the commotion, waiting in anticipation.

"Chris please" She silently begged for him not to. He knew what she was asking but he didnt care.

"If i wanna fuck my girlfriend i will, you dont need to be so pissed just because she wont let you fuck her Chris" Jaspers words were slurred and he could barely stand straight. Chris had a shit eating grin on his face and Rue knew it was coming before it even happened, clasping her hands together, praying for some sort of relief from a god she had no right to beg for. Not with how far she had come.

"Oh but she does" Before Rue or Jasper could even get a word in Chris sent a searing punch straight at him, his fist connecting with Jaspers jaw, sending him flying onto his back, and in no time Chris was on top of him sending hit after hit.

Rue was yelling at Chris to stop, but he couldn't even hear her. He was like a man posessed, Relentless with his hits. Matt and Nick appeared from the living room after hearing all the comotion, but all they could see was her face. The look of pure horror so evident, they knew it was Chris and Jasper. Matt made his way through the crowd and pulled Chris off of Jasper. His nuckles were bloody and he stood there panting, looking down at his bloody handywork lying on the floor. Jasper was bleeding from everywhere. Rue stood speechless, her wide eyes jumping between the two boys, waiting for Chris to say or do anthing. At this point the tears were full force running down her face. Chris turned to her and his face softened at the sight of her weeping, it was like something had changed in his eyes but she couldnt figure out what.

"Rue..." It was like he was the only person in the room. How could he do this? How could he embaress her like this? His hand reached out to touch her arm but she pulled away from him and pushed past him, making sure to shove his shoulder with her own on the way out the front door.

"Victoria!" She heard someone yell after her and she was sure it was Matt, but she was too focused on getting as far away from Chris as she could.

She was so angry she felt sick. Chris had no right to do that. He had no right to interfere with her relationship like that. She wanted to wring his neck. She wanted to tell the whole world just how terrible he was, like he had just done to her.

What he didn’t understand was that she had the information to ruin his relationship and possibly his life. He embarrassed her and carved his name into her back, and she had a golden opportunity to destroy everything on a nuclear scale. Why wouldn’t she use it? The truth was she knew there were two ways to end a war. Going nuclear or just simply walking away. She wouldn’t gain anything by shooting him down or drawing a knife straight through the heart of his ego. It didn’t make her life any better. And this hit for hit thing they've had going on these past few months, was lasting a little too long for Rues liking.

nothing better than seeing a man w bloody knuckles 😛😛😛😛😛😛

@christinarowie332 @sturniolostvrs @kitaysworld @urmyslxt @biimpanicking @soursturniolo @sturnphilia @cupidtoast @lividnity @sukiwaterhousestan @freshlovehacker @deatthmatch @fandomhopped

218 notes · View notes

ferrocyan · 2 months ago

Text

i didnt get to take the screenshots i wanted for then vs now comparison of tart yet but you can have this

long ramble ahead

it feels especially fitting to do from this account bc it was the first tart i made! theres been quite a bit of changes to her since then, like her hair color used to be a lighter blue, and the eyes were a darker green. i decided to change that immediately on remaking my account though, so tart now has very dark blue hair and light green eyes

heavensward was where her look rly came together for me, including the modern legend hair i won by sheer luck from a fete prize

personality-wise there was also a definitive shift in post-arr. id initially made her as a genki, happy-go-lucky kinda girl, but also decided that her background is connected to ishgard, so then getting to see up close what the deal with ishgard was made me change her to have a bit of a cold loner exterior that the scions had to wait a while to crack. just like any coerthan would, hahah. and then theres the bloody banquet. ive said before that i came up w the lore abt tarts parents before her, though at the time i had trouble connecting that to her story and character. until the bloody banquet happened. bc that plot point perfectly resonated w the themes and parallels id set up from her background. fuck yes. that was the moment tarts character made complete sense to me. then post-stormblood (the ghymlit dark) and shadowbringers (the cardinal virtues) only gave further fuel for developments in the exact direction i wanted, so im feasting, im so happy

in stormblood i thought her character was pretty much solid, visually and narratively, and then bam. the scene with lyse and her sisters dress. it brought about a very.. specific emotion in tart, something like admiration and love, mixed with self-consciousness and a sense of inattainability abt how lyse presents as a woman. and i was like oh my god. you are transgender. that was when i retroactively made tart transfem. it wasnt something i meant to do from the start but it does make total sense, so it was a happy revelation

then almost exactly a year ago i made tart into a catboy

the reasons are.. well the first look we got at the graphical update i did not like the catgirl (i. i still am not a big fan. it just looks wrong..) but that was just a convenient excuse for me to change tarts gender, bc tbh when she functions more as an avatar for me than just a character i do feel slightly uncomfy being perceived as a girl u_u not that ive ever been misgendered by anyone that knows im a guy, i just want peoples first assumption of "me" to be a man. so uhh its not rly made in consideration w tart as a character, and i still feel slightly bad abt that, but unfortunately his character development post-endwalker as a man slaps pretty hard so im afraid there is no going back. there is going forward and making tart transfem again though, itll happen if we believe in her!!

ok thats all for now, have a graphically updated catboy for the road

#tart the wol #in conclusion when it comes to tart im mostly like 'hmm lets see where this goes. oh it rocks! ok canon now'#i do not think about it very much ^^b

12 notes · View notes

bronzeeditsx · 1 year ago

Text

Maya le tissier fanfic part 1!

(sorry if there’s spelling mistakes Ive written most of this late at night)

20th July 2022

BREAKING NEWS Maya Le Tissier has joined Manchester united on a 3 year deal reports say.

You turn away from your phone to your team mates who have been discussing the rumours all week and now it has finally been confirmed.

“Can’t wait to meet her” Millie Turner said from across the room.

“She was hard to get past when we played Brighton”, Leah Galton replied.

The introduction of a new player is always exciting to have, but with her it seemed different.

You watched her enter the training ground already wearing the united training kit with a big smile on her face, a smile so contagious it lit up the whole room up, and she’d been here for 5 minutes, yet it felt it as if you knew her your whole life.

The way she shook your hand to greet you and looked into your eyes as if you were an old friend that haven’t seen each other in a long time, it just felt natural.

Millie Turner must have said something funny because she laughed as she was greeting her making her head slightly tilt backwards.

You couldn’t help but smile.

“What are you smiling at?”, Nikita joked poking your side.

“Nothing” You laughed shaking your head back at her.

A few weeks had past and Maya fitted in straight away, she was always working hard especially in the gym.

Just before the season starts the whole team decided we should go out altogether for a meal before the hard works starts.

It was a fancy restaurant that we were not used to and half the menu seemed pointless. You happened to sit next to Maya who gave you a smile as you were sitting down.

“That suit looks good on you”. Maya said as she ran her fingers so delicately on your shoulder feeling the fabric.

“Why thank you”, You replied feeling yourself start to blush. “Your dress is beautiful”. You said slightly positioning your body towards her.

“Maya what are you going to order?”, Katie asked from across the table.

This diverted her attention off you as she turned to Katie replying she’s going to order pasta.

In them few seconds you missed having her full attention on you which made you think, is there a chance you have some feelings towards her? No that can’t be the case you barely know her, she’s been here for 3 weeks and you’re already jumping to conclusions because she complimented you once, I am really down that bad you thought to yourself slightly shaking your head.

The night went on and before you knew it, it was already 2am due to the amount of drinks that were being ordered.

By that time there was an only a small group of us left.

“Ughh i can’t believe an uber is £30 just get back to my apartment” You sighed.

“I could give you a ride?” Maya replied with a smile, as she hasn’t had much to drink. (don’t be dirty minded😉)

“Are you sure?”. You replied slurring, regretting having them shots ella convinced you to drink.

“Of course” She replied with a smile.

“Thanks”.

“No problem”. She replied slightly stroking your back.

Once you got in the car you turned to look at maya who was rubbing her arms due to the cold winter air.

“You can wear my jacket if you like”, you asked her.

“No it’s ok”, she said smiling “your apartment is only 20 minutes away”.

“Ok, if you get hypothermia don’t blame me”.

“Woww”, she said laughing slightly pushing your shoulder.

You laughed with her.

The drive to her apartment seemed quicker than you hoped as you both listened to the radio almost at full volume.

You saw Maya glance to the side of you and she noticed you didn’t look so well, your arms were now folded onto your stomach and you looked out the window slightly turning away from her.

She quickly parked up just in front of your flat. “Are you ok?”. Maya asked worriedly.

“I think i’ve drank too much”, you chuckled wiping your forehead that was slightly sweating somehow even though it was freezing outside.

“Let’s get inside then”, she said quickly getting out her car and walking round to help you.

As you were about to enter your apartment building a group of guys walked past that you were familiar with.

“Look at the state of her”, one of them remarked and then they all started laughing.

“Hey, leave her alone”, Maya replied back angrily.

“Or what?”.

“Maya it’s ok”. You exclaimed.

Maya walked back up to the guy “I’m gonna sh-”

“Maya let’s go”, You interrupted, walking inside.

Maya sighed smirking at the guy, then slowly turned to follow you.

“Do them guys bother you a lot?”, Maya asked placing an arm around your shoulder as you walked to the lift.

“Sometimes…b-but not often”, you replied avoiding eye contact with her.

“You’re welcome to stay with me if they do”, maya said as you searched for your keys in your bag.

“Thanks, but it’s ok”, you said as you walked out the lift, to your door.

“Are you sure?”, She asked.

You didn’t reply as you did want to stay with her…but for the wrong reason.

Sorry this is so short for now i will continue this if you want me to :)

#maya le tissier #muwfc #muwfc imagine #woso

49 notes · View notes

softness-and-shattering · 10 months ago

Text

About the Mean Girls musical movie

I know Ive had conversations before about the cultural context stuff, that it seems like the message was not as effective as the first movie when the stuff its talking about, how girls are wrong whatever they do and everything is up for criticism and filming, and you have to pretend to be sweet and kind fairy princesses instead of being allowed to be human. And Id have to go back and find those posts to see what I do and dont agree with now. Because I just saw the movie. And honestly, I liked it. A lot of the visuals were really fun and interesting, which I think is impressive in a movie that mostly takes place inside of a high school. Regina more than once looks like she's in a music video, and that works because shes so hyped, its like she lives in a reality where not only do people break into song, but she's always in a music video. She really sells the character, self-assured and in charge and perfectly manipulative, and even when she's being vulnerable you're like, but is this another deception? She's more villainous in this version, and by the end maybe more human as well. (also the costuming is phenomenal, that Halloween angel dress?? The entire Halloween Someone Get Hurts sequence might be my favourite. )

Also Renee Rapp, who plays Regina, is just incredibly hot. She also played Regina on Broadway so it makes sense she has the character down. Thats not film critique thats my personal admiration. Its almost a little silly with the "oh no Regina is gaining weight she cant fit her clothes" because she looks amazing. [Edit: She's also obviously - I was gonna say she seems older than the other "teens" but actually she's 24, so Im having a moment of feeling old. And she's actually the same age as Auli'i Cravalho who is a lot younger in my mind because holy shit Moana came out EIGHT years ago?? Angourie Rice/Cady is 23, Jaquel Spivy/Damian is 26, Avantika/Karen is 19, thats more the age I thought they were but not the cast seems to be mostly 23-26. Its so weird when times moves the same for people while your image of them in your head stays the same. So Rapp isn't older she's just a bit bigger (neutral/positive). And she's been playing the role for a long time. And Im allowed to find her hot because she's a goddamn adult and so am I. This paragraph is not critique it is me blogging on my blog. Now Im annoyed at myself for Caveats of Fear but Im gonna stop dwelling on that now.]

On that note, though I originally liked the musical quite a lot, the significant fatphobia in it soured it for me. And Im happy to say in the musical movie, they changed or omitted those lines. I was waiting to cringe and they just sang something else. So that was great. I think the only fat character was Damian (why does that suddenly look like a vampire name?) - Jaquel Spivy - and he seemed comfy and cool, no self deprecating fat jokes or anything. Generally the lines/jokes that were uncomfortable or a bit bigoted have been changed. Though there isnt any disability rep, and theres a random character the burn book claims puts alcohol in her inhaler, like a 3 second joke.

And the big thing is that a lot of the meanness is shown in montages of vertical video and comments - no-brand tiktok obviously - and I think thats pretty realistic, and also in the original theme of not being mean to peoples faces but talking all kinds of shit behind their backs. And I think the montage format is effective in mimicking that endless scroll eyes glazing over stuck in the doom scroll/stuck in the spectacle. The music was good. I really liked how they overlaid the Spring Fling/thematic music with the math competition. If anything, Cady is not as good of a character, her Plastic switch is basically overnight, the scene with Aaron at the party is still kinda of awkward, she doesnt get as much room to breathe, while almost everyone else comes off really well. Heck even the candy cane/glen coco guy did well, I was actually suprised at how differently and yet excellently the actors acted their lines, compared both to the previous movie and the musical. Auli'i is fantastic, scary Janis is *scary*. And I simultaneously want to be her best friend. (It certainly helps that her art is augmented with embroidery and she's carrying embroidery hoops in multiple scenes. Fiber arts my loves.)

When I first saw a trailer my thoughts were "ugh we dont need another movie of this," but I think Ive changed my mind. Its similar enough and different enough that for me its a good adaptation. Also - I almost forgot to say - Janis gets a girlfriend for Spring Fling. Its not a plot point, we're just montaging getting ready and Janis goes to pick her up (in the lavender suit), and Damian is taking photos with two other sapphic couples. And he gets a crush/admirer who again, is just there to be there and doesnt interfere with the main story. I might change my mind again once its had time to settle in my thoughts, but initial impression is that its a fun movie I would watch again. Maybe we want the social commentary to be more incisive than it is, and in the end it is entertainment that needs to not be too boring to hold peoples shortening attention spans. (also neutral). Maybe thats wishing for it to be a movie that its not trying to be, and thats always a recipe for disappointment and also not great or fair analysis. What a fantastic line to end on*.

#mine #review #mean girls the musical the movie #whats the tag?#mean girls 2024 #that seems to be it.#Also the actress for Karen is Avantika I kinda thought that was a Matt Mercer invented name. I guess not.#I should also say it was the recent episode of This Ends At Prom that made me think it would be worth watching because they quite liked it #and their opinions might've influenced mine #I dont remember if there was anything in particular though #Other than Renee Rapp having played the part hundreds of times and therefore doing such a good job.#mm and Cady being a bit outshadowed by the others

8 notes · View notes

carbo-ships · 1 year ago

Text

Christmas

AO3 posting: [link] words: 1,976

Christmas fell on a Monday that year, which meant preparations for the day prevented Ardis from spending the weekend with Aether and the ghouls as she typically would have. It was, of course, one of the biggest days of the year at her monastery, and nothing more than an average weekday at the satanic ministry.

She was, however, permitted to visit them after the evening service on Christmas day. Ardis transported to the outer wall as soon as she could, eager to see her friends. The heavy gate swung open almost immediately after she rang the bell, revealing Aether. He must have been waiting there for her. Before she could even greet him, he pulled her into a tight hug. "I missed you so much," he murmured into her hair, placing a gentle kiss there.

She smiled as she hugged him back. "I missed you, too." When they finally pulled away, he shut the gate behind them and took her hand in his. Aether led her through the gardens toward the residential building, residual frost crunching under their boots. It was a cold evening, but Ardis's hand felt warm in his. They quickly stepped inside and closed the door to keep the heat in.

"Did you have a nice Christmas?" Aether asked her as they walked through the stone halls. It was warm indoors, which Aether still wasn't fully used to. When he first arrived, the ministry was working on a much smaller budget. Running the heating was a luxury. However, thanks to the success that came with Papa Emeritus IV's rise to power, those days were over. The ticket and merchandise sales kept the residential building cozy throughout the winter.

"It was certainly busy, but everything came together nicely. The services were lovely. You'd have liked them," she said with a smile. "We got to break out the good candles, and the fancy vestments... It was exhausting, but worth the effort.

Aether grinned. "I'm glad to hear it. And now, it's time to relax. You have been working too hard." They soon reached the ghouls' den, and Aether opened the door.

When Ardis stepped through the doorway, she gasped. In the corner of the room sat a Christmas tree, carefully decorated in string lights, red ornaments, and golden tinsel. A long garland was draped across the mantle over the lit fireplace. Eleven stockings were densely crammed together so they would all fit. Scattered around the room were all of the ghouls, dressed in festive sweaters of varying quality. Papa stood in the middle of the crowd, cozy in his red velveteen tracksuit with a Santa hat atop his head. They all greeted her with warm smiles. "What... What's..." Ardis stuttered, her eyes darting around the room in surprise and amazement.

"We, um..." Aether started awkwardly. "We wanted you to feel at home." He squeezed her hand. "Did we do alright?"

"Oh, Aether," she squeaked, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. He hugged her back tightly. "Is all this really just for me?"

"Of course it is," he cooed, kissing her temple as the others smiled at them. When she pulled away, he caressed her cheek lovingly. "It's important to you, so it's important to us."

Aether finally released her to let her say hello to the rest of her friends. Swiss scooped her into his arms, making her laugh, then handed her to Sodo. The stoic ghoul caught her awkwardly then carefully reacquainted her feet with the floor before accepting her affection with an ingenuine eye-roll that very poorly hid just how fond he was of her. After she greeted the other ghouls, Papa plopped down on the loveseat and patted his knee. "Come along, cara ," he called to her, "tell Santa what you want for Christmas!"

Ardis giggled with delight and skipped over to him, settling into his lap. He pecked her cheek and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, Papa, you look adorable!" she fawned.

"What can this old man do for his little angel, eh? You've been a very good girl this year," Papa teased, giving her a little squeeze.

Her wings fluttered as she let out a childlike laugh, overcome with glee. "I don't need a single thing. You've already done so much for me. And I can't thank you enough for all of this," she said, gesturing to the festive room.

"Oh, don't thank me," he said dismissively. "It was Aether's idea. All I did was put on a funny hat and help him herd the others."

She gazed at Aether adoringly. His back was turned as he shed his jacket and pulled on a Christmas sweater. The collar got stuck on one of his horns for a moment, and Swiss had to come assist him.

"But really, Ardis," Papa said, drawing her out of her trance, "is there anything I can do to make this day any better for you? Just say the word, cara . Your wish is my command."

She thought for a moment. What did she want? Was there anything Papa could provide that was missing? An idea struck her. She leaned close to whisper in his ear, too embarrassed to make her request out loud. "Can the three of us cuddle again sometime? Like we did on the tour bus?"

A smile stretched across his lips. "As long as Aether agrees to it, I'm more than willing," he whispered back before kissing her cheek. "Not tonight, though. I believe your ghoul has something planned for you."

"H-He does?" she asked, her cheeks warming.

Papa put his finger to his lips playfully. "I've said too much. All in due time, my pet. But yes, I'd be more than happy to cuddle tomorrow evening. You can even spend the night again, if you'd like."

She practically beamed at him. "Oh, yes please!"

He gave her another little squeeze before she climbed off of his lap to return to Aether's side. The ghouls all eventually settled into the various couches to watch a movie. While Papa voted for Die Hard , insisting that it was technically a "Christmas movie", the group ultimately decided on The Nightmare Before Christmas . Ardis was tucked blissfully into Aether's side as they watched. He had his arm around her, periodically pulling her closer. It was so nice to have a moment to relax like this. She giggled when Swiss and the ghoulettes sang along to the songs. Papa took it upon himself to do his best impression of Oogie Boogie.

It was late when the movie finished, and Papa was clearly getting sleepy. “Aether, go on and give Ardis her present before I doze off,” he said with a yawn.

Ardis looked up at Aether in surprise. “You got me something?”

“Of course,” Aether chuckled. “Sodo, dig it out of her stocking for me, will you?”

Sodo nodded, standing from his seat with a grunt. He approached the mantle and his hand dove into one of the stockings to retrieve a small wrapped box.

Aether accepted it as he thanked him before handing it to Ardis. It was only about the size of the palm of his hand. “Just a little something.”

Ardis carefully tore off the paper and removed the lid. Inside was a necklace with a silver pendant in the shape of the quintessence symbol. Her cheeks flushed. That was Aether’s symbol. “Oh, Aether…”

“I hope that isn't too tacky,” Aether chuckled. “Swiss insisted it was a good idea. I wanted you to have something to remind you of me when you're away.”

Swiss laughed. “I was thinking of it more like a dog tag.”

“Shut up, Swiss,” Aether barked back. “It’s, well… Perhaps. I’m proud that you're mine. I want people to know that you’re mine. But mostly the first thing.”

She smiled at him bashfully. “Could you put it on for me?”

He grinned back at her. “Of course.” She swept her long braids over one shoulder as he took the necklace out of the box. Unclasping the dainty chain, he looped it around her neck and fastened it behind her.

She let her fingers gently touch the shiny pendant just below her collarbone and smiled to herself. She was his. “I love it, Aether. Thank you.”

“You're very welcome.” He kissed her forehead lovingly.

Papa stood from his seat and followed suit, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. “It’s time for this old man to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast, okay?”

Ardis nodded. “Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, cara .” With that, he exited the ghouls’ den.

“I imagine you're probably getting tired as well, aren't you?” Aether asked her. “You’ve had quite a long day.”

As if on cue, she yawned. “I suppose so,” she giggled.

“Let’s get some sleep, then,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. “Good night, everyone.”

They all said farewell, and Ardis and Aether walked hand in hand to his bedroom. When he opened the door, Ardis spotted what Papa had been alluding to earlier that evening.

Tied to the center of his headboard was a sprig of mistletoe.

Ardis gasped. "Oh!" While not practiced in her homeland, she was well aware of the tradition. She knew what mistletoe meant.

Aether cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly a bit self-conscious. Perhaps he'd overdone it. "I, er, hope that isn't too forward of me."

"N-No! I just, um... wasn't expecting that." They'd spent countless nights kissing in his bed, but it was always something that just happened . Not something he ever explicitly requested. He'd never gone, Good evening, Ardis, shall we make out tonight?

"It's, well..." he mumbled sheepishly. "This is what I'd like for Christmas. I trust this presents itself as a request rather than a demand, yes?" he clarified quickly.

"Yes, of course," she assured him. "I... I'd love to," she admitted bashfully, her wings fluttering a bit.

Relief flooded Aether's system and a broad smile appeared on his lips. "Well, in that case, let's get ready for bed." He let go of her hand so they could both change into their sleeping clothes. Ardis moved to the drawer that Aether had cleaned out for her and pulled out a comfy pair of sweatpants and one of Aether's old t-shirts. She was comfortable changing in the same room as him now, with the understanding that he would have his back turned and wouldn't stare. He was always on his best behavior in those vulnerable moments, of course, even when it went against his ghoulish instincts. He'd worked hard to earn her trust and intended to keep it.

When they'd both changed, they made their way to the communal bathroom to brush their teeth. As they stood together at the sink, Aether's gaze drifted to the reflection of the shower stalls behind them. He'd often imagined asking her to shower with him. She'd say no. He knew that. But still... Maybe someday, he told himself. The thought of helping her wash her small back almost made his tail wag.

They returned to his room when they were done and said their prayers at the foot of his bed before he turned to her with a grin. "Shall we?"

Ardis gave a little nod, returning his smile. She lied on her back on the center of the bed and Aether carefully crawled over her. She couldn't help but giggle. Being so close to him like this made her a bit giddy.

He laughed as well, gently rubbing his nose against hers. "You're so cute, you know that?" He took her new necklace off for her and set it on the nightstand where it would be safe. They gazed at each other lovingly for a moment before he leaned close again, his eyes closing and his breath fanning over her lips. “Merry Christmas…”

#carbo writes

15 notes · View notes

meialsowrites · 3 months ago

Text

The Winter Fete - Shadow and bone fanfic Chapter 4

Info: Keep in mind that this is a fanfic, so the characters wont behave 100% like they do in the books or the show. I hope you enjoy this little creation of mine haha

As the next two months went by, Alina and Aleksander spent a lot of time together, occasionally teasing Zoya about their relationship and so on. Alina also attended lessons with Baghra, her power growing stronger every day.

The winter fete was happenning soon, so the Little Palace was full of Grisha stressing about all of the preparations… Fabrikators making decorations, dresses, special keftas and props. Etheralki were practising their shows. Alina also practised a show with Aleksander, since there were going to be a lot of ambassadors from different countries just to see her. Alina was a little overwhelmed by all of the preparations and practising, but that all dissapeared in Aleksanders embrace every night.

At the morning of the day the winter fete was happening, Alina slept in. When she woke up in Aleksanders bed, he was nowhere to be found. She sat up on the bed and she noticed a little note on the nightstand. I need to watch the preparations in the Grand Palace, Ill see you later, my love. Was written on the note. Alina got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and get dressed, then she went to the warroom, she noticed a beautiful golden dress with black embroidery carefully placed on the table, another note next to it. A little something for the fete, don’t worry, we match. With a small heart drawn under the text. Alina smiled, admiring how beautiful the dress was, she wondered what Aleksander will be wearing.

She walked to the Dining hall to get some breakfest, meeting Genya on the way. They dined together talking about the fete. Genya also said that later she would stop by, to help Alina with the makeup and her hair.

The day went on pretty quickly, there was no training today, so just a lot of free time until the fete. Alina spent most of the day in the library, at the lunch Aleksander stopped by to dine with Alina. They talked about an amplifier for her, Morozovas Stag. He said that theres been a word that the Stag was seen and that soldiers were on the way to the Little Palace to give all of the information. Alina was excited to have an amplifier, she was already strong, but with an amplifier…

In the evening she finally returned to Aleksanders room to get into the dress, not long after Genya joined her. Genya braided part of her hair and the rest she left flowing, Genya also gave her black and gold eyeshadows and so on. Alina looked like a queen, when she looked at herself in the mirror she was stunned, the dress fit her perfectly. Genya also got ready and afterwards they walked together to the Grand Palace entrance.

Aleksander was already waiting at the entrance, Alina walked right to him, a smile on her face. “Ive missed you.” she said. Aleksander couldn’t help but stare, she looked beautiful, after a moment he said: “Ive missed you too, you look absolutely stunning, my Alina.” She blushed, then took his hand and they started walking towards the stairs. He wore a beautiful black suit with gold embroidery, as he said, they were matching and all eyes were on them, but they both equally enjoyed it.

When they entered the ballroom it was as if everyone had gotten quiet, everybody just staring at them for a moment. After a little bit, Etheralki started performing their shows, in the meantime Alina and Aleksander talked to the ambassadors, the King, the Queen and enjoyed the festivities.

When the Etheralkis perfomance ended, Aleksander said quietly to Alina: “Are you ready?” He took her hand and they slowly started walking towards the stage. Alina looked him in the eyes and said: “More than ever.” When they climbed the small stairs onto the stage and walked to the middle, everyone was watching them closely, the ballroom went quiet. Aleksander whispered to Alina: “Lets give them a good show.” as he clapped his hands together, full darkness emerging through the ballroom. Alina started summoning, first the light dimly danced through the darkness like drops of blood in water, then she made it stronger, like little ghosts leading people through the dark, like in the old Ravkan stories. First there were just a few, then more and more by the second and within a minute the whole room was glowing. The people were stunned, some started praying, some just stood there watching with their mouths open. Aleksander was watching her the whole time, smiling, he was proud of her. When the performance ended, the both bowed and walked away from the stage.

As they were walking, Aleksander whispered: “You were perfect, my love.” looking right in her eyes with pride and affection. They left the ballroom for a little bit, as Aleksander was leading her out of the ballroom she asked: “Where are we going?” Aleksander chuckled “Its a surprise.” he replied with a smile. He led her into a much smaller ballroom, beautiful slow music was playing.

They stopped in the middle of the room, Aleksander bowed and said: “May I have this dance, my love?” and he offered his hand. Alina smiled and replied: “Theres mothing Id like more.” she took his hand. He pulled their bodies close, placing his hands around her waist and they started dancing. She put his arms around him and kissed him softly, when they pulled away from the kiss their foreheads touching as they danced.

Suddenly someone rushed through the door, saying: “My apologies, General. I know you said not to disturb you, but the matter is rather urgent.” We both turned around and saw Ivan. Aleksander just nodded at him and Ivan left the room again, then his gaze turned to Alina. “Im sorry, my Alina. Please, go back to the party, enjoy the festivities. Ill find you later.” said Aleksander softly as he kissed her again and then walked towards the door.

Alina returned to the party, talking to more people and getting a few more drinks, when she started to get tired, she excused herself and left the Grand Palace, guards accompaning her to the Little Palace. She stopped by her room to grab a book, as she was searching her bookshelf, someone knocked on the door. Alina thought it was Aleksander, so she immidiately went to the door to open it, when she did, to her surprise, it was Baghra.

“Baghra? What are you doing here?” Alina asked, very confused, she hoped Baghra didn’t come here at this hour to train. “Come with me, before its too late.” said Baghra seriously. “Why? Im too tired to train right now.” said Alina annoyingly, not going anywhere. “You need to leave this place.” said Baghra seriously, fear in her eyes, reaching for her hand. “Why?” Alina said almost angrily, taking a step back. “Aleksander means to expand the Fold and use it as a weapon. With you at his command he will be unstoppable.” Baghra said seriously. “Ill stand by him, not matter what.” Alina said confidently. “Stupid girl, people pray for you, worship you, believe you will free them of the Fold, yet greed for power consumes you, like my evil son.” Baghra said angrily. This whole conversation turned into a shouting competition, after around 15 minutes Alina had no nerves left and just walked away, going to Aleksanders room.

Alina didn’t care for a thing Baghra said, even if it was all true, she would stand by Aleksander, no matter the cost. When Alina walked into the room, Aleksander wasnt there, it was pretty late already, so she went into the bathroom to change into her nightgown, take off all the makeup and brush her teeth. Then she walked to the bed and got onto it, reading a book. She stayed up for a little longer, but she was exhausted from the whole day, so she fell asleep soon, the book still in her hands.

Some time later, Aleksander walked into the room, when he noticed Alina was asleep he quieted down, he walked to the bathroom, came back after a little bit and quietly got into the bed, carefully taking the book from Alinas hands and putting it on the nightstand. He lied down next to her, whispering: “Good night, my love.”

#darklina #fanfic #shadow and bone #alina starkov #grishaverse #the darkling #darkling x alina

3 notes · View notes

yearningandpatheticaboutit · 2 years ago

Text

CHAPTER 14: I CANT STAND THIS ANYMORE

wc: 6054

tags: violence, attempted s/a, smut, angst, drugs

a/n: this chapter might be triggering for some people, read at your own risk.

prev chapter

yaera

i havent been to one of these events since i was fifteen. that doesnt sound like a long time, but considering my sister was still alive then, it certainly felt like forever had passed.

the dress i was given is pretty at least. its black, has long sleeves and looks like it was designed for a sexy vampire. one good thing came out of this shitfest.

but the best part is, i can hide san's drugs within my outfit. im not stashing them in matching black purse because it'll get searched, but the tiny ziplock bags fit perfectly in my sleeves and boob area. this will truly be the riskiest thing ive ever done.

irina and the others even messaged me not to forget the stuff. im so focused on just getting that money the fear i had buried inside me hasnt completely resurfaced yet.

im staring at myself in the mirror, looking at my smokey eye make up. the black hair dye really gave me a morbid yet sexy aesthetic that im not bad about. if i could describe myself in two words, it would be exactly that, morbid and sexy.

the sexy part is what bothers me. i know there are people who would agree all too willingly with that. and its not my target audience.

my room door swings open and my mother walks in. theres a strange look on her face as she takes me in. we say nothing to each other for a few moments till she breaks the silence.

"bellisima," she says, almost under her breath. "we can really never go wrong with santo. he made you look like a princess, even if you look like you are going to a funeral."

my insides squirm at the mention of his name. i tried to ignore it, but the fear i felt in that bathroom is coming back full swing. im seeing him tonight. he'll be waiting for me.

"please don't do this again this year," i stiffly begged. "you need to find someone your own age Santo. I'm...I'm not the one."

santo cocks his head to the side and smirks. "and who told you that? who said you're not perfect for me?"

"i don't fucking want you," I hissed. his eyes widen slightly, more out of sick arousal instead of offense.

he advanced on me and i blinked, finding myself pressed against a stall. i whimpered and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but my arms were pinned to the side. oh my God, I'm going to be sick.

"but I want you, and you know that. so why don't you stop playing games," he whispered dangerously close to my ear. i shivered and my nausea kept tugging at my stomach.

"i'm your only chance at a respectable man. your parents already love me. so why don't you accept the love I have for you? you'll never find anyone like me, tesoro."

"i fucking hope so," i whispered, pinching my eyes closed. he moved his face infront of mine, hovering his lips over mine. I whined and wriggle, but he isn't fazed by my struggling.

"you're a big girl now, right?" he said lowly. "i think it's time you feel like a woman."

i snap out of that awful memory when my mother clicks her fingers infront of my face. "come on, hurry up! we are only waiting on you!"

i cant leave san's side tonight. no matter what.

when i get downstairs, my nearly feel the breath getting knocked out of me. he's standing there, looking more handsome than i've ever seen him. black hair slicked back, eyebrows done. the suit is sitting perfectly. its like he's the model here and not me. god i think im going to be sick.

he gives me a small smile but says nothing.

"doesn't she look perfect, amore mio?" my mother says to my father, who only gives an awkward smile of acknowledgement.

"the two of you can sit at the back of the limo. your mother and i will take the two front seats," my father says, then turns to san with a pointed finger. "dont get any ideas, boy. i know your headmaster personally."

san awkwardly laughs. "i would never, sir."

i try not to wonder how true that is. we pile into the limo and my parents keep looking at us through the rearview, making sure there's a significant gap between us. i look over to him and all the anger i felt before is just gone. i think im fucking whipped.

hes the most beautiful man ive ever seen.

"san..."

"you look really pretty," he tells me before i can say anything. saying that with the most expressionless face makes my face drop.

"oh-"

"i just wanted to say that. you really do."

i dont know what to say. the limo is dim so i dont know if he can see how flushed i feel. he leans forward and i think hes about to kiss me. i hope for it. i dont even care if my parents are nearby.

"where are you hiding the stuff?" he whispers. oh right, his drugs.

i show him my sleeves, how the pills are pressed finely between the folds. then i point to my bust. "others are in here," i say.

he chuckles lowly. "creative. you can give me some if you need more space."

if san gets caught with this my parents would end him. everything he worked to achieve would be gone in less than 2 days.

"i think i should keep it. just in case anything happens. you know, rich girl immunity."

san nods and leans back away from me, making me feel empty. "of course."

no words are exchanged between us for a few moments. so we're really going to pretend like the party didnt happen? did that mean it was never going to happen ever again. i dont want to sound desperate but my head is screeching for answers.

but i focus on what matters tonight. putting on a show. getting irina and the others their drugs and collecting payment. and most of all, escaping santo.

"san, can you do me a favour?" i ask.

he hesitates but nods anyway.

"dont leave my side tonight. please."

he rubs the back of his head nervously. "well, i am your date. and i dont know anyone else here."

god. he doesnt realize how bad i need him.thats the thing, i need him more than he needs me. i can never delete what i have on him. i never know when this will go sideways.

the party is at some hotel. when we get there, i can tell the reception is intimidating to san. the cameras, the flashing lights. the security. i grab his hand and he doesnt protest as we go inside. both of us get patted down by security guards, of course the drugs go undetected.

we go inside and the dinner set up is fancy as fuck. i look at san and i cant tell if hes forcing the coolness to not have a panic attack, but his face is blank. i spot irina and the others at a table and wave, my mother dragging us to a separate table with our name on it.

theres a stage with a massive projection screen, where a slideshow of the lingerie collection plays. i know at some point the pictures from the shoot will play out as well. im hoping to sneak off before then because i cant handle the embarrassment.

"so this is your life huh," san mutters next to me. i frown, his tone sounds disappointed.

"whats wrong?" i ask.

"nothing. just...i cant believe it sometimes."

hes been acting so weird. is he insecure? fuck i.dont even know where to start placing questions. my stomach sinks a little at his tone. i guess he'll never get it. he doesnt understand what im really running from. i doubt he ever will. that class disconnect will keep beating our ass.

to him, anything is better than being in a gang. i guess hes right. but that doesnt mean there arent things out there that would make you want to kill yourself. i would know.

santo walks out on the stage and everyone starts clapping like this is the oscars. "good evening everyone, buenos noches, buonasera, and everything else! welcome to the launch of the new Cosa Pericolosa brand. a brand distinct for its dangerous yet delicate beauty, made of the finest Italian lace and silk. i want to thank everyone for coming to celebrate and enjoy this milestone. there will be dancing and there will be a party, saluto!"

as soon as he gets off that stage, i see his face find my parents table. hes coming straight for us. i instantly grab san's hand under the table. he turns to me utterly confused, but i cant deal with that right now.

"mi famiglia!" santo loudly says and kisses my parents on the cheek. he gets to me and does the same, his kiss lingering on me longer than i wanted. i suppress a shiver. "tesoro, you look beautiful in the dress i picked! im so glad to see everyone here!"

"we could not have done it without you, santo!" my mother gushes. "you look so handsome!"

"ah, you are making me shy. it is really you people who are stealing the show, wait till you see how the pictures turned out!" he laughs obnoxiously, turning to smile at me.

"im so glad you are here, tesoro. it is good to finally have you back. your sister would be proud of you."

"thank you, santo." i force a smile. when really i want to scream. dont fucking bring her up, i want to scream it. but i force a stupid, docile smile. fuck if this night goes on for any longer, i might end up doing these drugs myself.

"hold on, who is this," santo finally acknowledges san. he holds out his hand to him. "i am santo falcone. but you can call me santo, you are?"

"that is yaera's date," my mother chimes in as san awkwardly takes his hand. "san choi. he is a classmate."

"oh," santo's smile tightens and he glances at me. "just a classmate?"

my father forces a laugh. "of course. do you know me? she can meet someone when it is time to get married."

santo grips san's hand for an uncomfortable amount of time till he ends up needing to rip it away. "nice to meet you, san choi. excuse me, i will return to you all. i have to greet the other guests and then have them run the music. you all enjoy the night."

he leaves, giving me a weird look before going. is he fucking jealous? does he seriously think he owns me? i dont know how my sister worked with him. hes so fucking creepy and somehow that never came up between us.

irina and the others arrive at our table next, greeting my parents with hugs and kisses. "can we steal yaera for a second? she looks so gorgeous!" claire says, gushing.

"no really, i want to rip that dress off you!" anya says. my mother rolls her eyes and laughs.

"please girls, bring her back in one piece for the show." my mother says. a smirk i know to be devious grows on irina's lips.

"oh we will, dont worry, mrs marino."

im so happy to get up from that table. san grabs my dress and looks up like a lost kid. "where are you going? dont leave me by myself here," he says under his breath.

awww hes so awkward. "ill be right back. dont miss me too much."

his eyes are desperate and his smile is so forced its hilarious. "youre really going to leave me with your parents?"

"dont worry she'll be back!" anya tells him, noticing him holding my dress. "your boyfriend is so clingy, yaera."

i can tell san is trying not to murder her with his glare. not more can be said because im whisked away. we end up in the bathrooms that look like something out of the louvre. anya and claire start taking mirror selfies while irina starts putting the money down on the sink.

"all of it is here, you can count it yourself. now where are the stuff?" she says. i start unrolling my sleeves, taking four of the bags out, getting the other five from my boobs.

anya and claire quickly come scrambling. "oh god, finally!" claire says. "we've been waiting so long."

"is it really that good?" i wonder, their relief is crazy to see. "better than what you already do?"

"alone its okay. but together with what we already do? a fucking trip to the skies," irina shakes her head with a smile. "ive never been so glad to know you, marino."

mixing drugs. that doesnt sound smart. but what do i know? im not the addict.

i smile and take the money, folding it back into my boobs. "youre welcome. and you know if you need more, where to call me."

"of course. and you better answer."

"your boyfriend is so fucking hot yaera," anya says with a sigh. "hes literally gorgeous. where did you find him?"

"careful, you cougar. you cant be talking about an 18 year old like that," i joke.

"im not even twenty three shut the fuck up!" she shoves at my shoulder.

"so he is your boyfriend?" claire smiles. the three of them coo like children when i start blushing.

"im getting there guys," i say. "hopefully soon."

"what do his parents do? he looks like a model himself." claire says.

"you know this is yaera, hes probably crazy as fuck. like the last one, what was his name?" irina chimes in with a snort. "i bet this one is the reason she has drugs in the first place."

i scowl at her. shes right but i hate that she read me so easily. "bitch, just enjoy my services. goddamn it you people are nosy."

she raises an eyebrow. "am i right though?"

i roll my eyes and start to leave, saluting on my way out. "im getting back now to my date now, goodbye ladies."

luckily when i get out, theres music playing and people are on the floor. san is sitting alone by the table, taking random sips out of a champagne glass. im so excited. i actually got money back for us. i throw my hands onto his shoulders and smile widely, unable to hold my excitement.

"so guess who collected their first payment?"

san's eyes widen. "all the money there?"

"every last note. so i think to celebrate we should dance."

san frowns and cringes. "i dont dance. im fine here."

i roll my eyes and grab his hand, pulling him up with a hard tug. "is it a sin for you to do ANYTHING fun? the music is playing and we have something to celebrate, come on."

he sighs and gives in with a lame smile. "fine."

i lead him to the dancefloor, swinging my arms around his neck. san's hands drop to my lowerback as we sway and i cant ignore the happiness bubbling in my brain. i cant stop smiling.

"you seem really happy," he notes. "you're getting a big head from your first payment huh?"

"of course. its just what i needed to prove myself to you. that i can pull my weight and that im not just some liability."

"i never said that-"

"yes you did san. many times." i remind him, and his cheeks flush from.embarrassment. "i can even quote you on it if you want?"

"please dont," he chuckles under his breath. "fine, i guess you can pull your weight."

his dimples are piercing through. i stare at him mesmerized and i cant even hide it. i bet if i was a cartoon in this very moment, i'd be having stars in my eyes.

"you're perfect, you know that?" i say without thinking.

san's eyes widen, then darken in seconds. "what?" his voice is just barely together.

"i want to kiss you again," i admit. "i think its all i'll want for a really long time."

i lightly stroke his cheeks, seeing them go rosey. this is all i have. the only thing that shows me that i do affect him.

his eyes dart down to my lips and i shrink the distance between us, till we're just barely a centimeter apart.

"i dont want you to think about it," i tell him. "just do whatever you want in the moment. thats all that matters."

"yaera..." he gulps, then takes a step back. "i-i dont know about this. lets just...this isnt good. for either of us."

"says who?" i scoff.

"says me. you and i should just stay business partners. strictly business. anything else wont end well for either of us."

hearing that makes my heart shatter and my stomach drop. fuck i can feel my eyes filling with water. i try to choke.it down but i know its obvious.

"so you're just gonna.pretend we never kissed at that party?" i lay down my arms from his neck. "youre just going to pretend that never happened?"

san stops dancing and gives me a curt nod. "i think its best we do. we both know i just represent something to you. something forbidden. thats why you want me right? because im someone you cant have."

i laugh bitterly. "i cant fucking believe you."

i feel a tear drop. san sees it and frowns. "yaera wait-"

i swat his hands away from me. "you are such a fucking dick."

i get off the dancefloor and run somewhere. i dont know where. im just walking, looking for a place to break down and sob. god this is so embarrassing. im so fucking pathetic.

i stop infront of a random room and twist the door handle. its unlocked, thank god. i go inside and fall onto the bed, my chest instantly getting wrecked. i start sobbing horrifically, unable to believe how awful i feel right now.

whats wrong with me. what is legitimately wrong with me. why was he so cold? am i not pretty enough for him or something? this cant just be about the business. i refuse to believe it. and even if it is, why do i feel so worthless?

everytime jongho has rejected me and made me feel like nothing but a stupid slut flashes infront of me. the feeling stabs me like a knife.

that must be it. thats probably what he sees me as. a stupid, desperate evil slut. all i do is throw myself at him. even at that party, i couldnt wait to be all over him. im pathetic. and desperate. i should just die.

my gloves are soaked. i cant believe how much im crying. maybe i should go back to therapy. maybe i wasnt coping as well as i thought i was.

i look up into the mirror stand, seeing my make up absolutely ruined. my entire face is red, and my hair is sticking to my soaked cheeks. i look like shit.

suddenly i remember why i stayed away from men in the first place. because im too fucking sensitive. my mood depends on them. my self worth is a reflection of how much they like me. they control whether i feel emotional highs and emotional lows.

i start laughing at myself. i cant believe i got myself into this kind of fuckery again.

the door opens suddenly, making me jolt. santo comes in and closes the door behind him, smiling tightly. i jerk up and start stumbling back, backing myself into a wall to be far away from him.

"what are you doing here?" i ask, my voice shaking.

"i saw you dancing with that...child," he slowly laughs, his tone sounding bitter. "you have no business being with someone like him, tesoro."

"santo-"

"do you know how fucking sick i felt?" he snaps, stalking like a dangerous animal. "seeing you with him? while you wear the dress i picked out for you?"

being alone was a mistake. i try to dart for the door but he grabs me and picks me up, covering my mouth with his hand. he throws me onto the bed, forcing his bodyweight on top of me. im frozen, i cant move. every karate class ive taken, all my knowledge on hurting someone just vanishes. hes on top of me and i cant move.

im sobbing again. he presses his finger to my lip, hushing me.

"i should be the only one who takes this dress off you tonight," he whispers. he starts lowering the top, leaving the top of my chest exposed. "dont cry, tesoro, you'll feel so much better after. ive been waiting for this for so long..."

"no please, santo," i beg through my tears. "please just leave me alone. please just-"

theres a few knocks on the door. "yaera, is that you? can i come in?"

that's san's voice. santo clamps his palm over my lips again and i scream.through them. its muffled. i start struggling and kicking but he wont get off me. he forces his hand harder. "fucking stop," he growls at me.

the door swings open anyway. san barges in and santo quickly jumps off me, suddenly on the other side of the room. san looks between us, frozen in his feet.

"what, did anyone say you could fucking come in?" santo screams. san stays staring between us, his face absolutely blank. santo scoffs and adjusts his suit jacket before storming out and slamming the door.

i sit up on the bed, looking at san through blurry eyes. i cant even find my voice. i cant even deal with what just happened.

"did he try..." san trails off, shaking his head at me. he rushes to sit down next to me. i cant help it, as soon as he wraps his arms around me i start bawling again.

"i cant fucking breathe. san please i just want to get away from here. please can we just leave."

he softly rubs the side of my head as he holds my face in his chest. "lets go. we'll go away from here. far away from.here. anywhere."

***

san

i dont even know where to start.

yaera and i ordered an uber from the hotel, disappearing with the permission of her father, saying she felt sick and she needed to go home. they werent happy but yaera's distraught face convinced them. they have no idea what the fuck happened tonight. they were sitting with that same guy that night.

hell, i dont even know what happened. but i could put two and two together.

yaera and i havent said a word to each other. shes passed out on my chest all the way to my apartment. i have to carry her on the way in. i have to put her down on her feet when its time to go into my apartment, and she hangs on my arm the entire time.

"you sure you fine with this?" i ask her. she nods wordlessly.

i let her inside, and she makes her way to my bed where she falls hopelessly. i go and sit down beside her, not knowing what to say. i dont know any words that can fix what happened tonight.

i know so much about her, but tonight...it made me realize i know nothing.

"this isnt the first time it happened," she says, her voice low and defeated. "the first time he did it...i was fifteen. he touched the inside of my thigh in a dressing room and kept trying it till i never went back. i never told my parents...or my sister."

i dont say anything. i let her speak.

"he told me he would never let me go. that he was in love with me. he tried so many times. at my own house. and everytime i would end up in the hospital...my parents would blame me. they would say that i was acting out. i didnt know how to tell them. they treated santo better me and my sister. hes a saint to them."

i feel my head heating up. a rich prick predator piece of shit. he deserves to disappear. he deserves to fucking rot.

i bet miss A could make a bastard like him disappear really quickly.

i take her hand and gently rub my thumb over her knuckles. i feel terrible. the only reason he was able to follow her was because of me.

"so thats why you asked me to not leave your side," i realized. "so you wouldnt be alone with him."

"he gets jealous of every man who comes near me," yaera's tears leak onto my pillow. "i thought if he saw you...he would really leave me alone this time. but it just...it made him more aggressive. he tried to..."

i pull her up and bring her into another hug, gripping her tightly. it felt like if i let her go that i'd never hold her again. that feeling terrifies me. i hate it so much.

"i'll never let him hurt you again," i swear. "i'll fucking kill him. just say the word and i will."

"i want him off my skin, san," she tells me pleadingly. "i dont want to feel him ever again. i want to scratch my skin off and be clean. i want to feel clean again."

"you arent dirty, yaera. hes the fucking filthy one for putting his hands on you," i hold her face in my hands. shes delicate, like porcelain. her eyes, that are usually so menacing and careless are filled with sadness. "youre perfect. you dont deserve that, dont for a second blame yourself. you're perfect, do you hear me?"

"if im so perfect then why dont you want me?" she whimpers. my blood runs cold. fuck how can she hit me with such a heavy loaded question.

theres no point in lying anymore. this is the last situation where i can lie.

"im scared," i admit. "im scared of you. and this. and everything. ive never had something like this, ive never had someone this close to me. i dont know how to handle it. ive been alone for so long i dont know how to let anyone be near me. i never let myself have anything. i always let go."

"please let me be there," she whispers in a tone i cant refuse. "please dont let me go. let yourself have this. let yourself have me."

my chest hurts. this night isnt going at all how i thought it would. its too much. i dont know what to say to yaera. i find my eyes feeling heavy. she takes my face in her hands again and i know she wants to kiss me. fuck it, this is the worst time. but at this point, there isnt ever a right time.

i go in for it and kiss her first. her lips are soft and velvety, and she melts against mine instantly. we start to lose our softness, with yaera pulling me closer and closer. its like she wants to take all the oxygen out of me. her kiss is hard, like a cry for help, like im all the air she'll ever need.

she breaks the kiss and drags her lips down my neck, making me shudder. yaera makes her way onto my lap and i dont fight it, her legs wrapping around me tightly as her dress rides up her thighs.

the kisses turn hot and i feel my brain losing sense. this wont end here, i know it. i want to stop it. i drag my willpower from the floor to break our kiss and she stares at me, frowning with swollen lips.

"is this really a good time?" i ask seriously. "you're really emotionally vulnerable right now. after what happened tonight, do you really think-"

"san," she interrupts me, pressing another kiss to my lips. "my life has been one big emotional fucked up moment, i want to forget. i want to have this, im so fucking dead inside. i want to feel alive again."

she stops showering me with warm pecks and looks me dead in the eye. "will you give me that?"

i hold her face again. my chest feels warm thinking about how no one sees her like this. her pain. but she trusts me enough. she lets me see it.

"i'll give you whatever you want tonight. i promise."

those words were all she needed. yaera slides her hands over my chest, pushing the suit jacket off. her hands move fast, flicking open every button till my chest is bare.

she presses her lips to mine again, her fingers tugging at my hair. i moan at the pull, surprising myself and her. she breaks the kiss and smiles down at me.

"i could get used to that sound," she teases. something stirs in me. she's so hot.

i move my hands to the back of her dress, finding the zipper. i dont break eye contact, and her smile only grows as the dress starts falling apart on her.

i slowly drag my lips down her neck, and she lets out a shiver. i fight my smile and continue to leave hot, soft kisses down her shoulder, moving down to her barely hidden cleavage. yaera harshly pulls the dress down, having rolls of money fall out and exposing her chest.

***

yaera

san stares at me after my boobs stare at him. there's a dazed look in his eyes that disappears once he lowers his mouth onto my one boob and grabs a hand full of the other.

i throw my head back, lost in a cloud after feeling his warm mouth. he starts sucking and massaging, rolling circles over my nipple. this is heaven. or something close to it definetely.

i feel my thighs tightening, warmth seeping down from my lower stomach. i try to stifle my moans, my mouth just barely gasping. he looks up at me, pausing on his motion. "you dont have to hold back. i told you i'll give you anything you want tonight," he whispers.

i hold his face with both my hands, feeling like i could cum from just staring into his eyes. "i only want you," i admit direly. i'll take anything he gives me. "but rubbing on you would be nice too."

he leans back, making me yearn. "okay, open wider."

hearing those words just makes me hotter. i get up from his lap and completely remove my dress, both of us just ignoring all the money on the floor. san's eyes hang on my every movement. im in nothing but black lace, and i dont waste time in throwing myself on his lap again, legs parted and ready.

he brings his lips to mine again, both softly and yet completely taking them as his own. his hand slips between my thighs, slowly trailing up like hes carressing fragile ceramics. i shiver as he gets closer to me, his hand finally slipping onto the base of me. he drags his thumb down my clothed folds, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer.

i try to focus on kissing him, dragging my teeth down to his neck. i lose myself when he starts rubbing me with both fingers, feeling that jolt of warmth coursing through me.

my mouth is parted as my face is buried in his neck, pathetic whimpers pumping out of me. san starts going in circles, right in the perfect spot. i do myself the favour and move the fabric to the side, his warm fingers completely melting inside me as he pumps them in and out.

i know im doomed when i hear myself squelching. his rhythm is perfect, not too slow and not too fast, just enough for me to completely feel him and fade cloudily. i feel my high coming, my thighs starting to tense and my grip on him tightening. i start to kiss him frantically, till san keeps pushing his fingers faster. i feel like a hot coil, going and going till before i know it, im dripping all over his fingers.

i collapse onto his lap and he slowly drags them out, and i hear him prop them into mouth. i look at him with an accomplished smile on my face, shaking my head.

"you sick fuck, did you just taste me?"

san shrugs with a small smile on his face. "yeah, can you blame me?"

i cant contain myself, i kiss him again. i dont even feel close to done. "let me do something for you now?" i say against his lips.

"mmm mmm," san shakes his head, gently gripping my waist. "i just want you to feel good. do you?"

i nod. "i feel better than ever. but really, you dont want anything?"

he lets out a heavy sigh. "i didnt want to tell you this, but you feeling things makes me...feel things."

oh he just became ten times hotter.

i realize it now, while sitting so close to him, i can feel his massive boner poking me through his pants. i smirk to myself, getting an idea.

"oh no, you have that look on your face again," san mutters, moving my hair back. "what are you thinking?"

"readjust your friend. so i can sit on him."

san goes quiet, but i can feel him pulsing underneath me. its sensation is sending me into fucking heat all over again.

"i dont think we should go too far," he says. "dont get me wrong, i want to. i really do. but i dont think you're feeling hundred percent...after everything."

my smirk drops. i dont want to think of him. not right now. not while i have san's hands all over me. but i guess its not a good look if i do just jump his bones after everything that happened.

he holds my face in his hands and squeezes after i say nothing. "and dont think its because you're not pretty or anything. seriously, i dont know why you would even say that."

i shrug. my black and white state of thinking has never really helped me.

san picks up a pillow up and tosses it against the wall. "come on, lets fall asleep. we can talk again in the morning."

"okay," i mutter. i dont know what else to say. i get off him and and crawl into his bed. san follows after, his hot skin completely blanketing me as he puts his arm over my body and draws me against him.

"are you gonna act like nothing happened tomorrow again?" i ask.

silence.

"no. stop worrying."

his curt words dont register in my brain, because he places a warm kiss on my shoulder. it doesnt take me long to completely drift to sleep.

***

wooyoung

wooyoung knows he fucked up. he knows its all fucked up, he just doesnt know when he's going to tell san about it.

miss A is looking at him with cold eyes, he cant even utter a word because of the fear inside him. seonghwa is sprawled out on a broken couch, horrific burns all over him. hes barely alive, but he had it in him enough to tell everyone about what went down at the warehouse.

"changbin is dead, you know this right?" miss A tells him.

"yes, ma'am," he utters pathetically.

"so you know what you and lucky have to do."

he knows he cant stay a bitch in this gang for long. he knows its going to get real. petty stuff is all wooyoung is used to. extortion, scamming people. when he watched yunho die, a fear he thought was so far away just flashed infront of his eyes. he knew he'd come to be on the other end someday.

"you find that man...and you bring me his hand. or else, i'll have yours."

***

A/N: pls this chapter was a mess im sorry and it took forever to write , the next will be better 😭😭😭😭

NEXT CHAPTER

tagslist: @yujispinkhair @brown88 @sansonlygf

#ateez angst #ateez imagines #choi san angst #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #choi san #choi san fluff #san angst #gang au #ateez smut #choi san smut

23 notes · View notes