#sorry i’m done. i just love him so much
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“Priorities”
Carlos Sainz x Reader
Tw: nothing I think, some angst.
~~~~
It was late afternoon by the time Carlos had wrapped up his meetings, finally parking the car outside your shared apartment. Despite his tiredness he couldn’t help the small smile on his face, excited to finally come home and looking forward to unwind together with you. His mind was filled with thoughts of food, maybe you should cook together? Or order in from that little Italian place you loved so much? He thought of what to watch on tv, knowing at the same time that it didn’t matter much to him. Hed probably fall asleep with his head in your lap within a few minutes of you sinking down in the couch together. As he unlocked the door he call out a soft hello, expecting you to pop out from somewhere like you usually did and come greet him with a kiss. When you didn’t, the silence of the apartment made him almost uneasy. Carlos called out for you again, frowning when he didn’t get an answer. Confused he pulled his phone from his pocket, thinking he might’ve missed a message from you, but the only one was your short conversation from this morning. He hadn’t heard anything since he told you he was in a meeting and when he thought about it that was kind of wierd. Normally he’d come out of a meeting to at least one text from you, and probably a cute picture of something you’d seen or something you’d cooked. You liked to keep him updated and he loved getting updates. He frowned, pressing the button to call you. The frown only deepened when he was forced to listen to the singlas until it eventually went to voicemail. Maybe you were at the gym? Or in the store, or out with friends? You usually picked up when he called though. Sighing Carlos moved further into the apartment, sinking down in the couch with a deep breath. Lazily scrolling through his phone it took him a few minutes until his eyes stopped on a story posted by one of your friends. The scene was cozy, candle-lit table and a tightly squeezed group of people posing for the picture. Right in the center he saw you, eyes crinkling with laughter as you carefully cut up the cake placed infront of you. His heart skipped a beat and as his eyes moved to read the caption it sank all the way down into his stomach.
Happy birthday to the sweetest, kindest and most beautiful soul. Love you!
Your birthday. It’s your birthday today and he’d completely forgotten it. You’d reminded him, several times the past few weeks, and every time he’d promise that he would make it the best day ever. That you and him would spend it together, all day with full focus on you and not a single thought on anything else. He’d promised himself to leave work behind, even just for one day, to really be able to make it special for you and now here he stood imagining your face when you realized he hadn’t kept any of it. Carlos fingers flew over his screen, quickly trying to call you again. When you didn’t answer, he hadn’t expected you to, he typed out a message.
C: Carino I’m so sorry
C: Im sorry, please call me? Or let me come see you?
C: I can pick you up after your dinner and we can do something? Anything you like
C: I love you, I’m sorry
You didn’t respond at first and Carlos began pacing the apartment, the stress and guilt eating him up from inside. He was just about to call one of your friends when your message finally came.
Y: Im out with friends Carlos, it’s fine.
Y: Love you too
He stared at it, a lump in his throat. He hated that you said it was fine, he knows it’s not. He knows what he has done is not fine and he knows you are not feeling fine either. He can see you, surrounded by your friends but also being reminded that he completely fucked you over today. The words its fine didn’t feel right, he could practically feel the disappointment laced beneath them.
C: Please amor, let me make it up to you.
No reply. Carlos kept his phone by his side the whole evening, waiting and constantly checking the screen hoping to find you giving him another chance but the silence dragged on. As the hours ticked by he realized you weren’t letting him off the hook that easily, not that he thought you should, but the panic inside him grew. Today should’ve been about you, about showing you he was capable of putting work aside, proving that despite everything always being about racing you were his priority. He hated that you gave him so much of your time and energy and he just- forgot. When he finally heard the sound of a key in the door he scrambled to his feet and moved out into the hallway, just in time to see you step inside. Your eyes met for the briefest moment before you turned away, expression calm but guarded.
”Hey.” He started, voice soft and overflowing with regret. You offered a quiet greeting, still not meeting his gaze, and he continued. ”Im so so sorry. I forgot, and I know that such a dickmove and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I have no excuse, I just-”
”It’s fine Carlos.” You nodded, hanging up your coat with slow and steady movements. Your tone of voice betrayed you and Carlos could heard the hurt you tried to hide. ”I know you’re busy. Its fine. I didn’t want to bother you.” The words slipping from your lips had his chest tightening.
”You’re never a bother baby.” His words came out almost as whispers, eyes pleading. ”I- I know I messed up, I should’ve been here. I promise I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He didn’t miss the way something flashed in your eyes, something hard and cold before your face softened. The sadness in your gaze when you watched him had him want to clutch his chest.
”You don’t have to promise anything Carlos.” The way you spoke was almost resigned. ”It’s fine. I just wish I didn’t feel like I’m something you have to work to fit into your schedule instead of something you actually want there.” The words stung, more than he had expected. Carlos wanted to reach for you, pull you close and tell you how important you were to him. That he’d give up everything else if you asked him to. But he didn’t, instead he just stood there looking into your eyes and realizing you didn’t want to talk to him right now. Carlos stayed still, watching you delicately make your way past him and he felt the weight of the promise that might’ve come a little too late this time.
That night, when Carlos eventually joined you in bed, he could feel the invisible wall between you. He caught himself glancing over, hoping you’d turn to him or shuffle closer like you’d usually do. He wanted nothing more than to have you curled up against his chest, but something in the air stopped him from reaching out. Instead he stared up at the ceiling, your earlier words replaying in his head. You felt like he didn’t want you, like you didn’t matter enough to him to make time for you in his schedule.
The days that followed didn’t seem to get any better. Carlos didn’t know how to approach the subject, didn’t know what to say, and you moved through the apartment like a ghost. You were always polite, always kind, but distant. When he asked if you wanted to join him for coffee or go for a run och a bike ride you’d shake your head while offering a soft smile, telling him you didn’t have time right now. When he tried to bring up the upcoming weekend, a weekend he knew was free for both you and him, and suggested that you’d plan a trip together you once again offered a sweet smile and told him you’d be up for whatever worked best for him. You stopped asking him for things, he noticed, and you never reached out first. When you kissed it was him who leaned in, when you ate together it was his suggestion. You didn’t remind him of plans, didn’t suggest movie nights, didn’t send him those funny little updates on your day when you were apart and he missed it. All of it. You didn’t even utter a word of complain when he was busy, you just let him go and never asked for even a moment of his time. Every time he noticed you step back something inside him twisted.
One evening, after Carlos had spent the day at the training center, he came home to find you sitting on the couch reading. You looked up at him when he entered, offered him a faint smile and a small hello, before turning back to your book. Usually, before all this, you’d be quick to ask him about his day, pull him down to cuddle with you and gently scratch the stress away from his scalp. But now it was as if you almost went out of your way not to talk to him. Carlos couldn’t stand it. It had only been a few days but the tension, the quiet ache of your absence was driving him mad. Taking a deep breath Carlos shuffled over, taking a seat on the coffee table infront of you. You shifted, glancing up at him, but didn’t speak.
”Can we talk?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. You hesitated, you hated that you did, before nodding slowly.
”Of course. What’s on your mind?” The way you answered, so calm and almost indifferent, made him have to swallow the lump in his throat. He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.
”It’s not about what’s on my mind, it’s about yours. I, well I can feel you pulling away and I get that it’s my fault, you know? I know it’s because of what happened but I- I don’t know how to fix it. ”
”Carlos,” you murmured, eyes trailing down to your fidgeting fingers. ”It’s fine. I told you, I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re busy, I know you don’t need more stress in your life.” The words hit him like a punch. A bother. He could tell you genuinely believed that, that you saw yourself like someone, something, that bothered him. After everything you’ve been through he’d somehow made you feel like an inconvenience in his life.
”Don’t say that.” His voice was strained as he leaned forward, elbows on knees. ”You’re not a bother. Never. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I know forgetting your birthday was the dickmove of the century, I really fucked up-”
”It’s not about you forgetting my birthday Carlos.” You shook your head softly, interrupting him. ”Or, well it is but not just that. It’s that sometimes, more recently, it feels like there’s no room for me in your life. Like you’re not willing to make room. I’m here all the time and you come find me when it’s convenient.” Carlos flinched, words cutting through his heart like sharp blades. You were right, he knew you were, but he hadn’t been willing to admit it earlier. He barely was now. You’d always been so kind, so understanding and supportive of his career and his demanding schedule and your support meant the world to him. He hated that he hadn’t showed you that. He hated himself for taking it for granted.
”I know I haven’t been good at- well at balancing things.” As he spoke his voice was thick with regret. ”And I know it’s been a lot recently, but carinõ I never meant to make you feel like, like you’re on the outside. I see you as a part of my life, like the biggest part. You’re what’s important.” Your gaze stayed trained on your hands, expression softening but still guarded.
”That’s nice to hear.” Murmured words had him carefully reach out to wedge his hand between yours and for the first time in days you didn’t pull away. ”I get that you have a lot on your plate and I want to support you I just, I don’t know if I can keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”
”You shouldn’t. Pretend, I mean.” Silence settled slowly as Carlos tried to gather his thoughts. He held your hand tightly, thumb swiping gently across your knuckles. He knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to throw promises at her and beg her to give him another chance, but he also knew that wouldn’t cut it. Carlos understood that whatever he said now wouldn’t matter until he actually showed you, showed up for you, and he silently promised himself he would. As a single drop hit the back of his hand his eyes quickly trailed back to your face, feeling his chest clench as he watched yet another tear slowly slip down your cheek. With a deep breath he squeezed your hand, leaning closer. ”Can I please hold you?” The question felt weird on his tongue, he’d never asked for permission to touch you before, but it seemed necessary in the situation. When you offered a small nod, sniffing quietly, Carlos didn’t hesitate. In a swift maneuver he was seated next to you in the couch, arms wrapped around your frame as you fell against him. He released a shaky breath when he felt your arms snake around his torso and he pulled you somehow even closer, nose pressed against the top of your head.
”I missed you.” Your voice was barely audible but Carlos could feel the words seep into his skin.
”I missed you too.” He spoke against your hair. ”And I know I will have to show you for you to believe me, but I really am sorry. You deserve a lot more than I’ve given you lately and I promise I’ll be better. I’ll make time, real time, for us. You’re the most important person in my life, you’re my person, and I’m not losing you.” Carlos eyes fluttered open as you slowly pulled away, looking up at him with a mixture of sadness and hope.
”I really hope you mean it.”
”I do.” You held his gaze in silence for what felt like forever until you finally nodded.
”Okay.”
~~
The days went on after that and soon enough days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Carlos had really realized what he had been doing to you, how his neglect had chipped away at the foundation of what you had built together, and he’d been working on it. Really working on it. At first it was awkward, you both thought so. Carlos wasn’t used to scheduling his time around someone else, not in the way you needed or in the way he wanted to offer. He had to force himself to slow down, to prioritize moments with you. He learned to say no, to meeting, to interviews, to unnecessary events because he had realized what it cost him to always say yes. The reward for saying no though, was what really brought him happiness. Every time he chose you, every time he prioritized you over the demands that came with his career, he saw something in your eyes. Relief, hope, love. It hadn’t been easy though, not all of it. There were moments when he still caught you hesitating before asking for something, moment when he knew you were keeping yourself in check not to be a bother, and every time it broke his heart a little bit. One time you carefully suggested that the two of you could take a small trip, since both of you were off work for a few days, and he could tell you were bracing yourself for disappointment even as you asked the question. He knew you still kept a lot of your feelings to yourself, brushing off things that upset you, and that’s what hurt him the most. Knowing you were still healing from what he’d put you through. There were good moments too, the majority actually, that made both of you feel like you were moving in the right direction. Like when he surprised you with a packed picnic basket one morning when you thought he would be at work. Or that time he saw you smile, really smile, when you heard him turn down a late-night meeting just to stay in and watch your favorite show together. It was a slow process, earning back your trust, but he was determined to make it.
One evening you sat on the balcony together, the glow of the city and the sinking sun blending together in front of you. Carlos had you tucked closely to his side, fingers twisting a strand of your hair absentmindedly as both of you just seemed to enjoy your time together.
”You’re quiet tonight.” Your soft murmur had him gazing down at you, smiling softly when he saw your face already turned up. Carlos moved his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your cheek.
”I’m just thinking.”
”About what?” Carlos hesitated, unsure how to express what he was feeling. When you reached up to grab his hand, tilting your head in that way he always found so endearing, he spoke up again.
”About how lucky I am. That you’re still here, with me, you know? That you didn’t give up.”
Your expression softened if possible even more, fingers intertwining with his. ”I never wanted to give up Carlos, I never wanted us to end.” You assured him, brows softly knitting together. ”I just needed to know if you actually wanted me here.” Carlos chest tightened, reminders of those painful days when he didn’t know if he’d be able to fix what he caused flashing through his mind.
”I do. I did and I do. I’ll always want you, need you.” He paused to lean down and press his lips against your forehead for a moment, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he gathered his composure. “I’ll never stop trying to show you how much you belong in my life, how important you are to me. Because you are.” Carlos tensed for a second as you pulled away, holding his breath as you looked at him. When you finally moved again you slowly leaned up to kiss him, lips soft and warm against his, and Carlos felt himself relax again. As you pulled back he saw a glimmer of something in your eyes, something lighter, as if the weight you’d been carrying was slowly starting to lift.
”Thank you.” Once again your words came out soft, softer than he felt he deserved.
”For what?”
”For fighting for us. For wanting to make this work. You could’ve just given up and focused all your time on all your other stuff, but you’ve really tried.” Your words had him melt, the arm he had around your shoulders tightening slightly. ”I do really appreciate these past months Carlos, and I know it hasn’t been easy but it’s been good. Great. You’ve been great.”
”It hasn’t been easy.” He agreed slowly. ”But it has been worth it. Every time.” Carlos leaned in to press another gently kiss against your lips before continuing. ”I’ll always fight for us. For you.” He didn’t say anything else. Neither did you. You didn’t have to. You just sat there, tangled together in the quiet and felt the wave of security and gratitude wash over you. Things were going to be okay, both of you knew it. Maybe even better than okay.
#imagine#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1#formula one#f1 writing#f1 fic#carlos sainz#sainz#Sainz x Reader#Carlos Sainz imagine
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The Ballad of Green Snakes and Honey Badgers
Prologue
Summary: When your former friend and current Triwizard champion Aemond Targaryen sends you a note asking you to meet him after years having last spoken to each other, you are left wondering what he could possibly want. So when, to your surprise, he asks you to be his date to the Yule Ball, you make a decision that will either mend your broken friendship with the Slytherin boy or irreparably shatter it forever.
Pairing: Slytherin!Aemond Targaryen x Hufflepuff!Tully!Reader
Word count: 2,1k
Warnings: none
Notes: Hello hello, dearest readers! How have you all been?
I offer you the prologue to a new story I am now incredibly excited to write. The idea for this came from the lovely @peachysunrize, whom I admire very much and love her works (I’ve actually been saving Tangerine Dreams for when I have enough free time to binge read it, ‘cause I know once I start I won’t be able to stop), after Mr. Ewan Mitchell was spotted serving cunt looks at the British GQ’s Men of The Year last night. It was supposed to be a one-shot howeeeeever I ended up getting a little carried away and dicided to go for a slightly longer story (so I’m so so sorry, Aemond actually wearing the infamous outfit at the Yule Ball won’t show up for a few chapters, please forgive me).
Just to explain a few details of this story: Hogwarts is in Westeros, located in the Crownlands near the border between these lands, the Reach, the Riverlands and the Stormlands. Volaena Academy of Magic is situated in Volantis, houses female students from Volantis, Pentos and Lys (equivalent to Beauxbatons) and Green Grass Institute is situated in Braavos, houses male students, mainly Dothraki, from Braavos, Pentos and Tyrosh (equivalent to Durmstrang)
I never thought I’d write a Hogwarts!AU but here we are! Although the HP/WW universe was a very important part of my childhood, I haven’t consumed any content related to it in a very long time (except for random memes on ig I often trade with a friend) because that woman (you know which one) pisses me the fuck off. But since no one will be profiting from me writing this (at least I don’t think so), and I still quite like the universe even if my love for it got diminished somewhat, I decided to give it a try. I won’t lie, I had fun!
I’d just like to warn that the next update for this series will take a little while, as I have quite a lot of work to get done (the semester is ending and Uni is kicking me in the butt once more, what’s new) and I’d like to finish writing a new chapter of Written Between the Lines, the other Aemond series I have on going, first.
Although Reader is a Tully I didn’t write her with a specific appearance in mind, and the same goes for Kermit Tully, so it is up to you to imagine what she looks like. I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it! And thank you so much @peachysunrize for coming up with the idea in the first place! If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.
Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided
Next chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3
When you woke up on that rainy morning, you had expected it to be just another normal Tuesday, only barely over a week into the school year. The day had started out like any other: you had met with Oscar for breakfast at the Great Hall, being joined shortly after by Kermit and Davos, and avoided at all costs glancing in Cregan’s general direction. Then you had headed for your classes of the day, being paired with Doreah, a lyseni girl from Volaena, for your year-long Herbology project.
While Doreah seemed nice, and you believed you would find a friend in her still, it was moments like this when you found yourself missing Helaena the most. You had promised to write to one another, of course, with you assuring you’d keep her updated in all the latest gossip around Hogwarts, yet it just wasn’t the same. You had become so used to seeing her at the farthest corner of the Ravenclaw table, waiting for you at supper, or sneaking out of the Hufflepuff common room together and into the kitchens to arrange snacks for your late night study sessions that you didn’t realize how much you’d miss this small things until she was actually gone, only just starting her career as a Magientomologist. Still, all you had to do was survive one more year until you could take your N.E.W.T.s and leave this place to search for a career of your own, and perhaps achieve your dream of sharing a flat with your best friend.
It was only after you left your Defense Against the Dark Arts class, having been squished between two quite large dothraki students from Green Grass, that you noticed something was different. A small piece of parchment was sticking out from inside your book, yet you didn’t remember putting it there; while you often used random papers as bookmarkers, it didn’t seem to be the case here, as the pages holding the parchment were ones you did not remember having ever read. As you turned the paper around you realized it was not just some paper, it was in fact a note, and you wondered how someone managed to place it inside your book, as you hadn’t left it unattended at all. But as you read the words, it would soon become clear to you.
Meet me at the library after dinner ~ A. T.
The note carried a neat, flourished handwriting, written in expensive green ink. And yet, as your eyes skimmed over the words once more your heart started beating faster and faster, the flow of blood seemingly thundering on the inside of your eardrums. A. T., the person had signed.
Aemond Targaryen.
What could he possibly want with you? Him, of all people? After all these years? Why did he want to speak to you now? It made sense then, how the note had appeared in your book without you realizing it; Aemond was quite good at Transfiguration, one of the top students even (but was there anything he wasn’t good at?), he excelled in it so for him to conjure a note inside your book was a piece of cake. But that didn’t explain what he wanted.
Sighing, you crumpled the paper in your hand, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pondered upon a decision you were most likely to regret.
There was only one way to find out.
You were quiet during supper, deep in thought as you poked at your food. Kermit and Davos both believed it had to do with the fact that Cregan and Alysanne were sitting right in front of you at the Gryffindor table, choosing then to sit on the bench across the table from you to try and block your view from the happy couple. But only Oscar knew the real reason for your silent demeanor.
Even though Kermit was your twin, you often felt closer to your younger brother, especially after you and Kermit got sorted to different houses on your first year, him being a Gryffindor through and through and you becoming the true embodiment of a Hufflepuff, and Oscar being selected for the same house as yours a year later. In truth, Oscar just understood you better and the other way around was also true, so you ended up becoming one another's confidants, telling each other everything and anything. So once you got back to the common room you had immediately spilled the beans about the mysterious note you had received.
He had begged you not to go. He just knew that whatever Aemond wanted couldn’t possibly be good. Not after everything. But you were curious, and although he would never admit to it, his curiosity on the back burner in face of his concern for you, so was he. So he agreed to your plan of simply listening to what Aemond had to say and leaving.
Or that would have been the plan, had what Aemond asked not left you completely flabbergasted.
Arriving at the library, now almost completely void of students, save for one or two first year nerds, you noticed Aemond was already there, punctual as ever.
“You came.” he seemed surprised as he raised from his chair, the book he had been absentmindedly flipping through forgotten over the hardwood table.
You shrugged, not willing to let him see how affected you were by his presence.
“Let’s hear it then.” you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to appear more confident than you felt.
“What?”
“You called me here for a reason, right? What do you want?”
“Can I not just wish to see an old friend?” it was his turn to shrug.
You scoffed, gritting your teeth as you glanced away from him. Old friend my ass, you thought. You weren’t friends. Not anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.
“Right.” he must have noticed something in your expression, for he dropped the innocent act “I need your help.”
What could he possibly need your help with?
“Be my date for the Yule Ball.”
What?
“What, why?” you were honestly dumbfounded by his suggestion, because that was what it was; it wasn’t a question, it was closer to a demand. And how dare he demand something from you?
“It is mandatory for the champions to dance at the Ball. And for that they need a partner.”
That’s right, Aemond had been selected as the champion to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament against Green Grass and Volaena. The professors had explained what that entailed, and how dangerous it could be, and for a fleeting moment, your heart twinged in worry over him, before it was snuffed out and replaced by the usual cold indifference you felt towards him. Furthermore, they had let all students know that a special ball would be held at Christmas, and that all three champions were required not only to attend but to dance as well.
“I know that.” you huffed, feeling a little offended “I mean why me?”
His stare turned quizzical, as if he couldn’t quite possibly understand what you were implying.
“Why not take your girlfriend?” you asked, confused “I mean, she may have graduated already, but professor Mellos said we could bring dates from outside the school.”
He glanced away from you, his expression turning dark for a split second, before returning his gaze to you.
“Alys and I broke up over summer.” he said with a nonchalance you suspected to be fake.
You wanted to ask, you were desperate to know why, but you had to remind yourself it was none of your business. His life was none of your business and it was better that way.
“Why not some other girl then? They seem to line up for your attention nowadays. Floris has always had a thing for you.”
Aemond was already considered a pretty boy even for normal standards, always having one admirer or another. It lessened a bit after he started dating Alys, a sixth year student, in his fourth year in school, but you knew for a fact people still pinned after him in silence. But after he was named Hogwarts’ triwizard champion, a lot of girls and even some guys flocked around him, vying for his undivided attention. You knew most of them would die for a chance to be his date at the Ball, to be his even if only for one night.
“It would give them the false hope that something more could happen when it won’t.” he tipped his chin, staring at you from under his lashes, and something in the way he was looking at you was deeply unsettling “At least we know where we stand with one another.”
Ouch.
“Why would I ever agree to go with you?”
“Well you certainly aren’t going with Stark, that’s for sure.” the corner of his lip twitch in the tiniest of smirks.
A pang of shame assaulted your heart, heat spreading in your chest and settling in your cheeks.
“How do you know about that?” your voice faltered, small and almost afraid.
His face fell, then, as if he didn’t expect this reaction from you.
“Everyone knows about it.”
Humiliation burned in your chest, the sting of tears steadily brimming in your eyes forcing you to glance away from him to stop yourself from breaking down in front of him. Great, now the whole school (and perhaps even the other two guest schools) knew how your boyfriend of four, almost five years had dumped you and practically immediately after started dating your cooler, prettier, hotter cousin. He couldn’t even be bothered to show his face, he had broken up with you through a letter, a majestic white owl bringing the news one summer morning.
“No.” you sniffled, daring yourself not to cry, and turning away from him, ready to leave and forget this conversation ever happened.
“Wait!” he grabbed your arm, halting your movements. His face was soft when you glanced back at him, something akin to guilt clouding his own features “Please. Just- please.”
That was new. For as long as you had known him, you knew one thing was certain: Aemond Targaryen didn’t beg. For him to stoop this low, at least for his standards, must mean he was indeed desperate.
“What’s in it for me?” you asked in turn.
He pondered for a moment, a surprised look on his face, as if he didn’t expect to get this far into the conversation.
“You’ll get to make Stark jealous?” he offered, and you chuckled mirthlessly in response.
“I don’t want to make him jealous.” and you couldn’t even if you tried, not in comparison to Alysanne of all people “I just want to move on from him.”
“Then you’ll get to show him just that. That you have moved on from him and are already seeing new people.”
His reasoning made sense and you were intrigued, sure, especially considering you weren’t totally over Cregan just yet. But it definitely wasn’t worth the hassle.
“And I’ll help you study for your History of Magic N.E.W.T!” he was quick to add.
Now that was a really tempting offer. History of Magic was one of the subjects you struggled with the most, having a really hard time memorizing all the dates and events, ever since your very first year. And you knew he was well versed in history; he studied the subject even when not required, just for fun. To have someone like him help you study would definitely help you not fail the test.
“Okay.” you sighed out between, biting your tongue “I’ll be your date to the Yule Ball.”
His face lit up then, almost bouncing in his heels from excitement, before feigning indifference.
“Good.” he nodded to himself “We’ll have to spend more time together until then.”
“I didn’t agree to that!” you squealed, the thought of spending any more time than necessary with him making you uneasy.
“We need to be convincing. Otherwise Stark will see right through it.”
He was right. Of course he was right.
“Fine then. When do we start?”
He smiled brightly then, and for a moment you saw that young boy he once was, the one who held your hand on the first train ride to school all those years ago.
“I’ll find you for breakfast tomorrow then and we can go to Potions together. After lunch we can start revising History. How does that sound?”
It could be worse.
“Alright by me, I guess.”
Aemond grinned cheekily, and you knew then that you were screwed.
“It’s a date then.” he sauntered away, but not before throwing you a quick wink to match his smirk.
Oscar was going to kill you.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x f!reader#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#aemond targaryen fic#slytherin!aemond targaryen x hufflepuff!reader#aemond targaryen x tully!reader#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#hogwarts au
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Not Quite Poison
Barty Crouch Jr. X Potter!Reader
Summary: after a chance meeting in the library; a whirlwind love affair between Barty Crouch Jr and the youngest Potter blossom, but neither of them were prepared for how life would go after.
AN: MONTHS. I have finally finished this after MONTHS. Sorry if the writing style is a bit whiplash, I have changed a lot since then. I can't get away from Barty he owns my whole heart
CW: not proof read, no use of Y/N, Obsessive!Barty(implied obsessive reader), sexual themes and scenes, graveling and begging, Protective Sirius and James, fighting, lying, self indulgent, cursing, Remus x reader if you squint, angst, angst with slightly happy ending, fem reader, not cannon complacent, sexual innuendo, underage drinking, major character death (unless...?)
WC: ~17k
You never felt as bold or as powerful as you did at Hogwarts, walking the halls with your older brother and his friends.
Shamelessly you always thought they were the coolest. The Marauders, James Potter; Head Boy, Remus Lupin; Prefect, Sirius Black; one of the most clever and strongest duelists in the school, and Peter Pettigrew; the sweetest boy you'd ever meet.
They had a reputation for themselves even before you came to the school a year later. Not that it surprised you, your brother had always been a moth to the limelight. You were just happy he never aimed that at you, being fiercely protective of his little sister. They all were pretty defensive when it came to ‘little Potter.’
But, there was only so much their help could do.
“Dreadful! A Dreadful on my potions exam!” You groaned as you wiggled the parchment in front of you, as if shaking it enough would change the ink that was etched on the page.
“I have never gotten such a low score in my life!” You whined and hugged the paper. Giving a small sigh as Sirius ruffled your hair. “Calm it, Bambi. It’s just a practice test. You're becoming Moony.”
Sirius gestured behind his back to Remus, who was wearing an offended look.
“I'm sorry I couldn't help you more.” Lily called over from under your brother's arm, sending you a sympathetic look. You just mumbled.
“It’s alright, Red. If even you can’t save me, I’m well and truly done for.” You groaned and Remus nudged you with his elbow.
“I could always give you a hand.”
You shook your head and bit your cheek. “Nah, think it’s best I crack on alone. No distractions.” You waved your hands out dramatically, full of resolve. Enough to make Sirius laugh at you and Lily to roll her eyes fondly. The redhead looked up and smirked at James who seemed to be lost in his own little world, staring at her.
“Jamie, dearest?”
He blinked out of his daze and smiled at her. “What's that?”
“Were you paying any mind to your little sister?”
“She was talking?” He muttered and looked over at you, greeted by a bird that wasn't under his arm, instead poking from between your index and ring finger. “Ah, so I’ve finally learned to tune her out. Only took me seventeen years.”
“Sod off.” You stuck your tongue out at him and he blew a raspberry back, before Lily gave him a reprimanding smack on his shoulder.
“You're meant to be head boy.” She huffed and you just smirked.
“How they let him get that badge, I’ll never know!” You shouted up to your brother who made a mocking face at you with his eyes crossed. Remus snickering from your other side.
“Oi, James, keep it to yourself,” Peter mumbled, shuffling out of spitting range.
“It's like watching two first years go at it.” Sirius mumbled and Remus shrugged. “I don't think they ever left that age.”
You rolled your eyes fondly at the jabs as Lily grabbed your brother's face and squished his cheeks, leaving him a smiling fool.
“Okay, I'm heading to the library.” You offered and got a variety of responses as you left. “Got to make sense of this disaster of a grade.”
Their echoes of conversation faded out as your shoes hit the path to the library. Once there, you were shocked to see how many people were studying in the now cramped hall. It was fair to say that everyone here had a poor score on their test.
What was worse is you didn't recognize a single person. Not well enough to sit with.
You walked down the long path between the aisle and tried to spot an open seat somewhere. That was, until you spotted an empty table. An entirely empty table with a few spare books shoved across the old oak. You lit up and hurried over to take the seat closest to the wall. Setting up your things to begin to study, not noticing how people had been avoiding that table like the plague.
As you set up your books and notes you were oblivious to any presence around you, until the seat right next to you was pulled out. “You know…”
You looked up quickly and you were greeted by a pair of piercing green eyes that made your heart stop. What was it with Potters and green eyes? You'd never know.
“If you wanted my seat that bad, you could have just asked.” You were suddenly snapped to your senses when you recognized the voice.
Bartemius Crouch Junior. Fuck.
You didn't talk to many RavenClaws, you hardly talked to any male classmates considering how often your brother would scare them off. Sirius wasn't much help either.
However, Crouch had a special reputation. Hanging around dangerous Slytherins, loud, dangerous, obsessive and as smart as a damned whip. You only knew what Sirius told you about him, which was nothing good, considering how both of them absolutely despised each other. James didn't like him either, but Lily spoke highly of him.
Lily spoke highly of almost anyone, though.
You only realized you had been staring at him when he arched his eyebrow.
“Cat got your tongue, Potter?” He teased as he took his seat and you snapped out of your thoughts. Still just blinking owlishly at him. This made him chuckle softly, leaving him to simply shrug and get back to work.
With how he behaved around most of the students you expected him to chase you off or bare his fangs- maybe bite you. Who knows? People described him more like a rabid animal than a proper student. Yet you had sat in his seat, at his table, pushed aside and even stolen one of his books, and he was as calm as a cat.
“Er- sorry, I didn't mean to intrude.” You whispered and he glanced over at you. Meeting your eyes with a slowly growing smile.
“So she does talk?” He teased and you pursed your lips.
“When she wants to.”
“That's not very Potter of you.”
“It's very me of me.”
His smile only grew as your banter continued. His shoulders seemed to relax and he became a bit more playful. You felt like you might be insane, were there two Crouchs? There is no way this is the same boy who almost beat Sirius to a pulp over a remark about his own brother.
“So… do you mind if I study here?” You asked softly and he shrugged, going back to his paper.
“I don't mind a pretty face.”
This time it was your turn to smile, rolling your eyes a bit fondly. You got back to your notes, writing down each problem you had gotten wrong and looking for the proper potion recipe, starting with Wiggenweld. You began to mutter to yourself as you looked across three different books. Rubbing your temple in irritation as you tried to understand the ingredients and grew more and more infuriated.
“You're doing it wrong.” You heard Barty mumble from beside you. You snapped your head over to glare at him and it only served to make him chuckle.
“I don't think I've ever seen a Dreadful in my life.”
You flushed a bit and moved your wrist to hide your marks. “What happened to you being nice to me?”
“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled and shifted his seat a bit closer to you, looking at the books. “What's got you confused?”
“I just..” You sighed and gestured to the books. “Every one of these say something different! Salamander blood until it turns yellow, then orange, then green. But this one says Unicorn horn and Lionfish spines. And then this one says Sloth-”
“Woah woah woah, pretty girl, breath.” He pushed and you took a sharp breath. No one but Sirius had ever called you that, and certainly not in that tone. He lifted his arm and you got a good view of his bare forearm from where his sleeve was rolled up, showing off a tattoo, a snake wrapped around a magpie, you think. He smiled at how you took it in. “Did it myself.”
Your eyes widened and looked at him in shock. He seemed giddy with excitement at your interests. “That and this,” He mused and stuck out his tongue, using his middle fingers to press it flat against his lip. Showing off his tongue piercing and his black nails. Your eyebrows shot up to your hair line.
Him and Sirius were scarily alike. It was almost comforting.
“Woah…” You mumbled and he laughed. Smiling ear to ear.
“Look here, kid.”
“I'm your age-”
“Shhh, I'm spitting wisdom.”
You couldn't help but laugh and relax fully as his fingers lined the pages of one of your books. “The reason they are so different is the one thing Professor Slug on my Horn doesn't tell you,” You laughed a bit in surprise at the vulgar nickname, “Is the potions you study under him have several different ways to make it. Salamander blood being the one taught in class.”
You looked back at the books and tilted your head a bit. “Why wouldn't they tell you that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I don't even use those recipes, I made my own.”
You looked over at him in shock and he just smiled at you.
You knew Crouch was a genius, he made sure everyone knew. But to have your own concoction for the potion you couldn't figure out how to brew according to instructions? You were baffled.
“Really?”
He nodded and you furrowed your brow. “Why Wiggenweld?”
His lip twitched and you could see as the smile left his eyes but not his lips, slowly biting his cheek. “I'm prone to.. accidents.”
“Your fights.” You whispered and he shrugged.
“Those too.”
“Typical Crouch behavior.” You murmured, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice. Talking to him was feeling more natural by the second. “Always getting into trouble.”
He grinned at that, leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence that was slightly charming. He had a way about it, how his sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose. Robe discarded and undeniably handsome- “What can I say? It’s a talent of mine.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling more at ease as you continued to chat. The tension from earlier with your potions exam began to fade, replaced by a curiosity of learning who this Barty boy really was. It was a strange feeling, considering the reputation he had, but he seemed different here, away from the majority of the school, he was so gentle and sweet.
“So, what’s your recipe for Wiggenweld?” You asked, hopeful for a bit of help. You leaned in closer, the books between you momentarily forgotten.
“Alright, but you have to promise me something,” He whispered and leaned all that more closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You can’t tell anyone I’m teaching you this. It’s our secret.”
“Deal!” You nodded, your excitement bubbling over. You didn’t care about the implications of keeping secrets; you were just grateful for the distraction and the chance to understand potions from a different perspective. Definitely not to keep talking to him, not at all, he was just so damned sweet.
“Well, I use this version of it.” He gestured to your test, “But no Salamander blood. Just Horklump and Dittany.”
“What?” You whispered in shock and he sent you a playful wink.
“Trust me, yeah?” He gestured to the pages. “You just need to stew them for no longer than ten minutes. Stir it the first two- Potter?”
“Yeah?”
“You should be writing this down.” He teased and you quickly scrambled for your quill, cheeks flushed as he found you just staring.
You quickly scribbled down the details, heart racing as you focused on Barty’s instructions. The way he leaned in, so close that you could catch a whiff of his cologne, made it hard to concentrate. You tried to tune out the little voice in your head that reminded you of his reputation; all you wanted was to absorb the knowledge he was sharing. Nothing more.
“Okay, so after you’ve stewed the Horklump and Dittany, you need to add a pinch of powdered mint. It has to be powdered, if you add any fresh mint the juice will wind both of us in detention.” He continued, his voice low and steady, as if he were sharing a well-guarded secret. “But don't tell anyone that. It's just to get the color Slug likes so much.”
You couldn't help but smile at his goofy antics. “We?”
“Hm?”
“We'd end up in detention?”
He gave a chuckle. “Can't let you get in trouble for my secrets, can I? How could I live with myself?”
“What a gentleman.” You cooed and he gave a playfully solemn nod.
“Truly, I am.”
“I would totally let you take the fall for my antics.” You countered and he put a hand over his chest with a gasp. You giggled and he couldn't help but smile at your look.
“You're much prettier than your brother.” He hummed and you paused, turning to furrow your eyebrows at him with a bright smile. Clearly, he had no shame in what he said.
“Watch what you say, my brother may disagree with that.”
Barty smirked, clearly unfazed by the warning. He seemed so.. shameless. “Let him. I’ve dealt with worse than a jealous Potter before.” He leaned in a little closer, his tone playful, yet there was an undertone of seriousness in his eyes. “Besides, I would hate to disappoint him. But my type is more.. about your height, your hair color, your eyes. Have to say, the only thing wrong with you… your name.”
You felt your cheeks flush with warmth at his compliment, the boldness of his words making your heart race. Who was this guy? “Oh really? What’s wrong with my name?” You asked, trying to keep your tone teasing, but the stutter in your tone betrayed you.
“Potter is a lovely name.” He hummed, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “But if you are looking to try out something different, I have some ideas.“
“Is this you flirting, Crouch?”
“Call me Barty. And if you have to question it I might just have to up my game.” He lit up like a child and your heart clenched hopelessly. He didn't even attempt to play coy with his new found attraction, you wondered hopelessly how many people had told this boy no. Certainly not enough.
Thank Merlin for that.
You couldn't help but laugh, trying to mask the fluttering in your chest. “Well, Barty, I don’t know if you’re just charming or if this is some elaborate scheme to distract me from my disastrous Potions exam.”
He leaned in closer, resting his chin in his hand, eyes focused solely on you. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting to suppress a smile. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re delightful,” He shot back without missing a beat. The intensity in his gaze made you feel a little dizzy, like you were the center of an exhilarating storm. Like you were worth all his attention.
You had only been speaking for an hour and it seems he made up his mind about you so quickly.
“Okay, Mr. Charming.” You said with a smirk, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Let’s focus on Potions before you completely derail my study session.”
“Fine, fine.” He chuckled, leaning back into his chair but not breaking eye contact. “What's your next question?”
You spent the rest of the day with Barty, drilling on about the exam and your potion questions, falling into an easy and familiar rhythm. Eventually, even when your questions were answered and the library was empty, you two stayed. Even as it grew dark outside and the only lights came from the candles on the table. You two keep droning into easy conversation.
“You know.” Barty hummed. “This isn't the first time we've met.”
“Really?” You asked, your head in your arms as you leaned on the table over your books. He nodded. “Mhm. We met before, when we were younger. Before Hogwarts.”
“Before Hogwarts?” You echoed, trying to piece together the fragments of your memory. “I don’t remember meeting you before then. Are you sure?”
Barty chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m sure. It was at Diagon Alley.”
Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you tried to recall any memory of him. “Diagon Alley? I don’t remember that at all.”
“Yeah, it was ages ago. You were with your family, and I was there with my mum.” He explained, with such a sweet smile that reached his eyes. “You had just gotten your first wand. You were so excited, waving it around like you were already a pro. I was upset because my magic hadn't come in yet but you and your brothers came around the same time.”
You felt a spark of recognition at his words, completely baffled he would remember something so utterly small and insignificant to him. “I do remember being really excited! I think I accidentally turned my brother’s hair blue for a week after that.”
Barty burst out laughing, the sound bright and infectious. “See? You were a little troublemaker even back then.”
“Hey, it was an accident!” You protested, laughing along with him. “I was just a kid.”
“Still, it’s good to know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.” He muttered and bit his cheek. Suddenly so.. thoughtful and distant.
“... how did you remember that? I hardly remember it and it was the day I got my wand.” You have a small nervous laugh.
“You really don't remember?” He laughed and you just furrowed your brow in confusion.
“Woah, I'm that forgettable?” He teased and laughed as your eyes widened in horror. “I'm only teasing.”
He rolled his jaw a bit and laid his head on the table to look you in the eyes. “I was throwing a fit, you know. I wanted a wand so badly. You walked past me on the street and you pointed your wand at me. You shouted; ‘tears be gone and magic be strong!’ And just toddled away after your mother.”
Your jaw dropped a bit before you slowly covered your face in embarrassment. Giving a low groan as you began to laugh. “I don't remember that. But that's what my mum always told us when we got hurt. Said our magic would heal our owies.”
He chuckled and nodded. “I stopped crying. When I got my magic the next year I was sure it was your doing. I'm not surprised you don't remember me.”
“It's not that you're forgettable-”
“Heavens no, not that. Just… you are always doing small things like that. You don't know how much it means to people.”
You flushed a bit at his statement and looked down, unable to keep his eyes anymore. “You're exaggerating.”
“I'm not. Everyone just adores you.” He mumbled and you shook your head.
“And everyone is scared of you.” You challenged. “Not everyone knows what they are talking about.”
“They are scared of me with good reason.” He corrected and you shook your head defiantly.
“You're not scary.”
“I can be.”
“I'll believe it when I see it.”
“I guess you'll never believe it then.”
You tilted your head a bit and looked up to meet his eyes. He was smiling so softly, so sweet, eyes gentle and almost suffocating. “I would rather die than scare you.”
You stared at him, a bit stunned. Struggling to catch yourself but all you could muster was. “You could never scare me.”
“Good.” He whispered in earnest with a nod of his head. “Good.” He smiled.
Before you both could continue talking, you heard the grand doors creek open, both of you looked up like deer in headlights. You saw Remus poke his head in and he smiled at you, before giving a grimace of a look at your company.
You stood up as you saw Remus leave, giving a low sigh. “Sorry, I kept you here so late.”
“Don't worry about that.” He muttered as he began to help you pack up. “I'll put your books away for you.”
You gave him a surprised look before you furrowed your brow. “Are you not heading out as well?”
“Not now. I have a few assignments to look over.” He mumbled and your eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Wha? Oh! Oh, Barty, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to distract you.” You whispered and he shook his head, chuckling.
“It's alright, you can make it up to me.” He muttered and you nodded vigorously. “Distract me again? Tomorrow? Same seat?”
You were stunned for a moment before you slowly smiled to match his. “Time?”
“I'll be here all day.”
“Understood.” You smiled and gave him a small wave. “Goodnight, Barty.”
“Goodnight, Star.”
When you made your way out of the library and noticed James, Lily, Remus, Peter, and Sirius. You tilted your head a bit curiously when you saw James with the map.
“What's this about?” You hummed and James pointed at you like an accusatory child.
“Nuh uh! You and Crouch? Gross! No!”
You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion and looked over to Sirius who was glaring at you. Peter looked nervous to meet your eyes.
“You upset your brothers.” Remus muttered to you and you tilted your head.
“It would seem so.” You mumbled back and Lily gave a little giggle. James didn't appreciate your mellow response.
“Bambi that boy is no good for my little sister.” James huffed and you could have sworn if you rolled your eyes any harder they would fall from your head.
“Oh Merlin, here we go.” Lily mumbled.
You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at James, trying to keep your expression calm. “You mean the boy that helped me understand Potions better than I ever have? The same boy who’s been nothing but nice to me? You guys really need to relax.”
Sirius chimed in, his tone teasing but serious. “Nice? Junior? He's a walking red flag, love”
“And you’d know all about red flags, wouldn’t you, Sirius?” You shot back, a smirk creeping onto your face. You couldn’t help but needle him a bit, knowing full well his own history.
Lily laughed, trying to diffuse the tension. “Come on, you guys, let her have some fun! She’s old enough to make her own decisions.”
“Lily!” James huffed and gestured to you. “She's only 17.”
“18 in two months.” You put your hands on your hips as Remus smirked. “58 days.”
“Right on.” You mused and you and Remus shared a high five.
“Wha- I- no! No, I don't like it!” James whined like a child. “He's a Death Eater.”
That killed the fun chillingly fast. The hall was silent- in truth, no one knew anything about who was truly what. The only people you guys knew to be those monsters were the ones who claimed it. Like Mulciber, Avery, and even some of the other younger Slytherins.
The only evidence they would have to that would be the company Barty chose to keep.
“You watch your mouth.” You snapped quickly at James who looked a bit caught off guard that his usually sweet playful sister was so serious. Your blood was boiling with anxiety and inching for you to back down, you just wouldn't. To be in the middle of a war and to use that word so freely?
“You don't know what rumors like that can do to someone! And, I'll have you know, he is the sweetest boy I've ever talked to!” You snapped at him and his jaw dropped.
“Not you, Remus or Peter.” You reassured and they nodded in agreement.
“Not me.” Peter smiled at his friends and earned a smack from Sirius. Remus had the good sense not to say anything.
“You're such a git, James! And I won't be letting you continue to dictate my social life!” You snapped and the second Sirius opened his mouth you glared at him down. “You either greaser!”
Remus snickered and you shook your head. “I'm going to my dorm!”
Lily scurried up to follow you, giving the boys a playful ‘hmph!’ As she passed.
Remus was about to say something before Lily grabbed his arm and dragged him along. Leaving the three older Gryffindor's alone in the hall, baffled.
~~~
You stomped right up to your bed and slipped across it with a groan. Remus was next, mocking your childish stomps before he laid the proper way across your mattress, arms behind his head. You glared at him before Lily sat beside you and patted the side near her, coaxing you closer.
You sighed and sat up, wiggling closer.
“Baremius, huh?” She prodded and you nodded, leaning on your palms beside your knees. Her tone was always so soft and patient. She was always so… peaceful.
“It's not like that. But James- ugh! He just gets on my nerves.”
“Not like that?” Remus spoke up from behind you two. “He looked like he was about to kiss you.”
“I have that effect on people.” You cheeked, quickly trying to cover up your heating cheeks. “He was helping me with potions. Nothing more.”
“Well, that's good.” Lily muttered and you half glared at her.
“Good?”
“I can't believe I'm about to say this.” She muttered. “I agree with your brother on this one.”
You gawked at her before you looked at at Remus who suddenly looked nervous.
“And you?”
“In my defense, putting aside the rumors and.. his behaviors. He's a guy.” He shrugged and you gave a scandalized laugh.
“And you're not?”
“I'm a man.” He hummed and flexed playfully, showing off his arms and making you laugh, laying back and across his stomach. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and laid her head on his chest, looking at you with a soft smile.
“And in my defense, honey, I know him. He's friends with those horrid Slytherin boys and…” She looked away for a moment. “Snape. I know you can't judge someone on their friends alone but…”
“It says a lot.” You muttered and slowly hid your face in Remus’s stomach. He lifted his hand to ruffle your hair and you gave a loud and annoyed groan, looking back at Lily. “Do you really think-”
“I haven't seen any proof.” Lily quickly hushed you. “But just.. be careful, yeah? May want to keep him at arm's length.”
“...” You sighed and began to pick at the cables of Remus’s sweater, earning a smack from him. “I'll keep my distance.”
“That's our girl.” She smiled and leaned in to kiss your temple, making you laugh.
“You have to marry my brother now.” You insisted and Lily gave a snort.
“Oh, look at this.” Lily mused and reached behind her, the second you lifted your head she flung a pillow at your face, leaving you to fall against Remus’s stomach. He let out a sound that resembled a balloon deflating and it left you and Lily giggling like fools.
You stared up at the ceiling as Remus and Lily began to chat aimlessly. You began to pick at your nails and pause. You wondered if there was any truth to it, the rumors and his actions.
“I would rather die than scare you.”
His words replayed in your head over and over. What did he mean by that? Was it just you? Was his persona an act? What made you the exception?
The way his head tilted and his eyes looked into yours, it was something so genuine. Scarily affectionate. You wondered if it really was just that conversation. That day you met and that comment you made to him about magic.
Was he really not used to such simple compassions?
“Earth to bambi.” Lily called out and you looked over at her with a curious look. She smiled.
“So you won't get tangled up in him, yeah?” She prodded and you bit your cheek. You must have missed a lot.
“Yeah.. I'll be careful.” You muttered and she smiled.
“Good. I'm off to my patrols.” She hummed and sat up, grabbing her books and saying her goodbyes.
Remus looked down at you to see that distant stare again. Giving a weak chuckle and patting, giving a hum. “Wanna braid my hair?”
You sat up wordlessly and flopped on the pillow next to him. “Actually.. Can you read to me?”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want, bambi.” He mused and grabbed one of the books from your coffee table. Shifting up so you could lay your head on his chest, listening as he started the same book he's already ready you a million times.
~~~
You kept your promise and you avoided Barty. Everything went back to the status quo. At least for the first few weeks.
James had let it go a week or so later and Sirius was still weary of leaving you alone for too long. Ever since he started staying at your house in year five, he had become just as hovering and doting as your brother. But with Lily and Remus as reinforcements they never pushed it too far.
Then came the full moon. Remus would never allow you too far from the Gryffindor towers the nights leading up to it. No one, really.
He would sooner see you in detention then letting you out of the dorms and especially not near the dark forest the night of the full moon. However, even if you couldn't help the night of, the very next morning no one could stop you from rushing down to the shrieking shack with breakfast and water for the boys.
It was never anything complicated, just a few biscuits and water before you all were lugged back for classes. This morning was no different. As you walked with the boys out of the shrieking shack and towards the school.
The sun was shining bright, casting warm rays across the forest floor as you made your way back toward the castle. The air was crisp, fresh from the night’s chill, and you felt a sense of accomplishment in being there for your friends.
“Thanks for this, lil Potter.” Remus mumbled, his voice still a bit hoarse but warm with affection as he took a sip of water. He was leaning heavily on his crutch that he still tried to insist he didn't need. The other boys were busy sharing their own sleepy banter, but you just smiled. “Of course, Moony. I wish you'd let me help more. I feel like I've become an animagus for nothing. I can still taste the mandrake leaf, I'll have you know.”
“I told you he wouldn't let you help like, five times!” James shouted ahead as he slipped back on his shirt. Remus strayed behind in his slowed step. Sirius shook his head.
“If we had it our way, and you weren't so spoiled, you wouldn't be one at all.” He snarked in all his grumpy morning glory and you gave a sarcastic laugh.
“What got up your ass this morning? Hopefully not Remus in his state.”
Remus began to choke on the water you had given them and Sirius gawked at you. James let out a laugh so loud it startled a few birds from the trees.
Remus rolled his neck before he nudged you a bit and gave a low groan. “It will keep you safe. Just in case… you know, anything happens.”
“Nothing will happen.” You assured and he shrugged, always ready to believe he could hurt you guys at any second.
“You never know.”
“You'd never hurt me, Remus.” You whispered and locked your arm with his. He shook his head.
“Moony would.” He challenged and you shook your head back at him.
“No, I mean, you wouldn't be able to. I am simply getting that good at self defense magic, didn't you hear our new professor? Could wipe the floor with em.” You cheeked and Remus gave you the most sour look you had ever seen, making you giggle.
“Can I?” Peter whispered from beside you and you handed him your water easily, giving a laugh when he threw it back and chucked the damn thing.
“Thirsty?”
“We shouldn't have drank.” He muttered and your jaw dropped.
“You four drank? That has to be illegal. More- more so illegal than whatever we have been doing so far.” You scolded and Remus just gave you a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, looking off into the forest with a playful huff. Only for you to pause when you saw some bit of blue behind you guys.
You began to slow down more, furrowing your brow at the figure you swear you saw, just following you guys. Your arm untangled from Remus’s and he paused, looking back at you. Then, you saw cigarette smoke. You trailed back a bit more before you turned sharply.
“I think I dropped something! I'll catch up!” You called back before you hurried down the trail. Looking along the tree line. Only then did you spot exactly who you thought you saw.
Barty looked at you with wide eyes, from the thicket of the trees. You two locked in a staring contest for a few moments before you heard Peter’s voice call out to you.
“You okay, Bambi?” He shouted and you quickly ran into the proper tree line. Grabbing Barty by his lapels and pushing his back against the nearest tree. He gave a small ‘oof’ as you took the cigarette from his mouth and tossed it on the ground, stomping it out.
He didn't react much besides rolling his head in annoyance and looking up at the leaves above you as you attempted to hide him. “What are you doing here?” You whisper hissed, assuming the worst.
He sucked his teeth a bit before looking down at you with a quirked eyebrow, “Can't take a morning stroll?”
“Were you following me?” You asked incredulously, stepping back from him as he fixed his uniform. “Not.. initially.”
“Yo! Bambi, you alright?” Sirius called down and you pursed your lips, giving Barry a once over. He looked.. sad. Almost bored. Nothing like the playful boy in the library.
“Uhm… yes. Yes!” You shouted back. “Wardrobe malfunction! I have a spell for it, just run ahead!”
There was a long pause before Remus shouted back. “Alright!”
As you listened to the boy’s voices finally fade out into the background you slipped your hands in your robe pockets.
“Why are you out here?” You finally asked and he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. He walked over to a well worn log and sat down. Looking back to the path one more time you finally sat by him, hugging your cold knees.
He took off his robe and threw it over your lap. Before you could protest he took a letter from his pocket and handed it over to you. Taking out a box of smokes and starting another one.
You looked over the letter carefully, the envelope was beige but it had a blue stamp. Carefully, you unfolded it.
Bartemius,
I find it utterly disheartening that I must waste my precious time addressing your incessant foolishness yet again. Your childish antics are a stain on our family name, and quite frankly, I am beyond exhausted by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation. Another fight within a week? Pathetic.
How dare you presume to send a personal letter to my office as if your juvenile escapades warrant my attention? If I sought updates on your disgraceful behavior, I would have asked your mother- though I suspect she has long since learned to ignore your antics. It astounds me that you continue to associate with those beneath you, dragging my name through the mud and jeopardizing the reputation I have painstakingly built in the ministry.
Your conduct is an embarrassment, not just to yourself but to me and our entire lineage. I expect to see a marked improvement in your behavior, though I have little hope that you possess the maturity to effect any real change. If you cannot rise above your base instincts, you will remain nothing but a disappointment. Do not insult me further with your incompetence.
You felt your heart clench tighter with each line you read. It was like someone had cut out the devil's tongue and used his linguistics to verbally lash the pages, and the lack of warmth in the words left you feeling hollow. It was hard to reconcile the boy you’d just been speaking with- the charming, playful Barty- with the boy described in this letter.
Let alone a boy as sweet as Barty could be subject to this. Your thumbs began to crease the page the tighter you held it.
You knew you were lucky to have a father like yours. He would never speak down to you like this, he was the one who begged you to write. About anything and everything.
“I wanted him to know I got all O’s.” He muttered, gesturing to the letter. You looked over to him in surprise as he tightened his jaw but kept his expression unreadable. “Should of known it wouldn't have impressed him.”
“Barty…” You whispered, looking up at him with concern etched across your features. You felt your eyes begin to sting and your vision blur. He was staring off into the distance, tense as he took a deep drag of the cigarette. How could someone be so cruel to him?
You schooled your expression, giving a sniff or two as you used your sleeve to dry your tears. Then, your turned to face him fully, pressing the letter firm against your lap.
“You impressed me.” You declared in a stern tone. He furrowed his brow and looked at you curiously. You kept a straight face. “It's impressive, Barty. It's impressive and.. I'm impressed.”
He gave a weak, almost scandalized laugh before he bit his cheek, trying to hide a smile. “You are?”
“Mhm.” You nodded earnestly and he gave a low chuckle as you began to sniff again to try and keep your tears back.
“So.. is that why you'd been avoiding me?” He mused and your shoulders sank a bit. You have a deep sigh and hugged your knees. Burying your face in his robe still draped over your legs.
There was a moment of pause before you finally gave in. “You're not.. you're not a bad person. I don't think you are.” You whispered. “But my brother does. And his friends.”
“So what?” He asked softly, no malice in his tone just genuine curiosity.
You hesitated, the weight of your words hanging in the air. “So... I don’t want to get caught up in whatever is brewing around you. I know there's something. They care about me, and I care about them. I can’t just ignore it. And Lily she's...”
Barty’s expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “You think I’m dangerous?”
“I think you have a reputation.” You countered, trying to keep your tone neutral even as your voice wavered. “And it’s not just who you hang around with. It’s the way people talk about you- like you’re some kind of monster. I've.. heard things. What you've done, I mean.”
He chuckled softly, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose I’ve earned that.” He admitted. “But I’m not dangerous. Not to you.”
You felt a pang of something- so heavy and tight in your chest at the way he said it. There was an honesty in his voice that made you hesitate, and for a moment, you saw not just the boy with the reputation, but someone who seemed genuinely weary of the way others perceived him. No.
The way you perceived him. The hypothetical danger he posed to you. He was more concerned with how you felt about him then anyone else.
“Then why do you hang around with them?” You asked, trying to understand. “You could easily distance yourself from them, you know. They are.. they are monsters, you know what they did to Mary and Lily. They are important to me.”
Barty shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that didn’t quite match the tension in his expression. “They’re... my friends. They understand the game. It’s easier to be with those who don’t expect me to be anything other than what I am.”
“But that's not fair.” You huffed boldly. “That's not fair to me. I won't pick between anyone and my friends because my answer will be my friends.”
“Yeah..” Barty took another long drag of his cigarette. “Me too.”
The weight of his words hung in the air between you two, a heavy silence stretching out as you both considered the implications. You had to let yourself realize that with a father like his… his friends were truly all he had. You watched as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, the tendrils swirling in the sunlight filtering through the trees. His face was partially shadowed, but you could see the conflict in his eyes- caught between the reputation he had and the reputation his friends built.
“So, you’re saying that you’d rather be with them, even if it puts you in a bad light?” You asked, your brows furrowing in concern. “Is that really worth it?”
Barty leaned back against the tree, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Not all of us can be Sirius Black.” He chuckled dark and your lip twitched. “Not all of us have a Potter waiting to save us and I'm not leaving Regulus alone either.”
You furrowed your brow at him and he just shrugged. “Why didn't Regulus come along?” You whispered softly and he shook his head.
“Wrong question star. It's not my job to question him. I'm the one who's there for him.”
You stared at him for a moment longer and Barty met your eyes. It was like a stalemate for a good few minutes.
At that moment, you wondered if the houses were truly picked properly. Because you had never known anyone braver and more loyal than Bartemius Crouch Junior. You gave a low sigh and then smiled at him. He slowly returned it and your smile only widened.
Giving a small giggle he tossed his finished cigarette and held his hand out to you. You took it and he pulled you up, tossing his robe over his arm.
“You should run off now, yeah? Before your brother finds me defacing his sister's reputation.”
You shook your head with a bitter laugh. Taking a moment to appreciate him up close. Eventually, you gave in, getting on your toes and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. One that seemed to stun him.
“You really are remarkable, Barty.” You whispered and he couldn't hide his goofy and bright smile from you.
“And you, Star Potter, are a beautiful experience, everytime.” He said, his voice low and earnest, a spark of genuine warmth in his gaze. You felt your heart flutter at his compliment, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this small pocket of time.
“Now, run along.” He whispered, his tone teasing as he stepped back, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “Don’t let them catch you talking to me, or they’ll think I’m corrupting you.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to walk back toward the castle. “You wish you were that lucky!” You called over your shoulder, feeling lighter than you had in days.
He watched you go with a small sigh. Shamelessly he put the robe to his face he could smell the faintest linger of your perfume. His eyes closing tight, as the scent reminded him you were real.
“Merlin, I really do.”
~~~
Sneaking around was your brother’s bread and butter, not yours.
But you found it harder and harder to really stay away from Barty. His persistence didn't help.
Small things started happening. Like chocolates began to appear in your books, flowers showing up on your desk, and other small things that were undeniably Barty. You couldn't get away from him. Whether it was the shared glances or the way he looked at you with an intensity that made your heart race, it was undeniable how much you were starting to fall for him.
You’d see him in the halls between classes, his eyes catching yours briefly before he flashed that charming smile. Sometimes he’d join you at the library, his presence both comforting and slightly thrilling. Each time felt like a secret shared in the quiet corners of Hogwarts, a world apart from the repetitive life of your friends. Not that you didn't love them- you adored them.
But the attention was nice.
“I got an Outstanding!” Lily sang as she held up her test, smiling ear to ear. James gave a wolf whistle to make Lily laugh, earning a shove for it.
Sirius looked at his parchment and gave a low whistle before carefully setting it back down, making the group laugh.
“That bad?” You cooed and Sirius smirked at you.
“Yeah? And what did you get, bambi?”
You bit your cheek and looked down at your parchment. Slowly turning it over with one eye closed, only to give a delighted gasp. “Ha! Outstanding!”
You flashed the paper to the group and Remus gave a laugh, Sirius playfully glared at you and snatched the paper away from you. “Horseradish! You cheated.” He insisted and you laughed.
“I did not cheat!” You protested, trying to snatch your parchment back. “I just studied really hard!”
“Sure, sure,” Sirius said, grinning as he held it just out of your reach. “What’s your secret? Did you bribe Slughorn?”
“That didn't cross my mind, actually.” You cheeked, and Remus clicked his tongue with a playful shake of his head. “Disappointed.”
Sirius laughed, holding your parchment a little higher. “You could have had him eating out of your hand with some chocolate frogs, you know.”
“Next time, I’ll be sure to bring him a whole box.” You shot back with a grin, finally managing to snatch your parchment back.
“Look at my little sister!” James piped up, pinching your cheeks. “I knew you had brains in there somewhere!”
“Sod off!” You huffed and he just laughed, letting you go.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but smile at the actual cause of the O. As your brother and everyone began to get back to their idle chatter, you looked across the hall to the RavenClaw table, but you didn't see him. As your eyes drifted across the hall to the Slytherin table, you found your eyes trapped by a pair of stormy gray ones. Regulus Black simply nodded to you and looked down.
You wondered if he knew.
You pouted a bit before you looked back to the group. “I think I'll spend my free period at the library.”
“Awe, booo.” Peter called across the table.
“Come on, Bambi, don’t be a hermit!” James chimed in, trying to coax you back into the conversation. “You just got an Outstanding! Celebrate a little, you'll turn into my Evans!”
Lily gave a scoff.
“Yeah, you deserve a break.” Sirius added, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “How about we all go to Hogsmeade this weekend? A little fun to reward your hard work?”
You hesitated, torn between the prospect of hanging out with your friends and the nagging feeling that you wanted to see Barty again. “I would like to. But I really should review.”
“Come on, bambi!” Sirius pleaded, leaning forward with that infamous grin of his. “You can study later! Hogsmeade is a perfect way to unwind. Plus, we’re all going together. It’ll be fun!”
You bit your lip, glancing toward the Ravenclaw table again, half-hoping to see Barty’s unmistakable figure. He still wasn’t there. “I really should-”
“Should what?” James interjected, crossing his arms in an exaggerated manner. “Your grades won’t crumble if you take one break. Besides, you’ve been studying like a madwoman. You deserve a little fun. We haven't really hung out since you started this new study obsession.”
“Yeah! What’s the point of getting good marks if you can’t enjoy yourself?” Sirius chimed in.
You sighed, biting your cheek. While you loved your friends and cherished the time spent with them, the thought of Barty lingered in your mind. “I just think I can study more effectively if I focus on Potions right now.”
“Come on’, you can’t keep avoiding social interactions forever!” Sirius exclaimed dramatically. “You’ll turn into a hermit! Just imagine it: ‘Bambi, the hermit of Hogwarts’- it has a nice ring to it, actually.” He mumbled.
You giggled despite yourself, but the thought of Barty won over. “Sorry boys.”
“I think it's a good idea.” Lily hummed and you felt a bit guilty. Giving a firm nod and gathering your things and hurrying out of the hall before they could continue to protest.
The soft breeze from outside pushed back your hair a bit as you walked. The smell of the great hall flickered out and was soon replaced by the not entirely pleasant dampness of the dungeons. You weren't walking down the halls for long before you were suddenly yanked into a broom closet so fast you squealed.
Quickly a hand came over your mouth and you- like a normal person would- freaked out. Slamming your head back into the unseen attacker’s face. You heard a groan as he let go and spun around, only to stare at Barty with wide eyes. His hand covering his bruising nose and smiling at you.
“You scared the daylights out of me!” You scolded quickly, pushing away your embarrassment and annoyance with him- especially since he got such a strong reaction out of you. He just smiled and chuckled at you.
“Sorry, sorry.” He muttered. He had such a pretty smile, even when he was being an absolute moron. Oh, you owe Lily so many apologies. His hands slipped into his pockets as his shaggy hair fell a bit over his face.
“Just had to see you.” He whispered and you nodded.
“There are better what's to get a girl’s attention.” You muttered and he couldn't stop smiling at you. “Does it still hurt?”
You muttered softly and he nodded, leaning down a bit to your height. You smirked and raised your finger as if it was your wand. “‘tears be gone and magic be strong.” You whispered and he gave a low hum.
“You know…”
“Hm?”
“I'm not a kid anymore.” He chuckled and you flushed a bit, rolling your eyes.
“You could've had me fooled. What do you want me to do? Don't pull girls into a closet- no, don't pull anyone into broom closets.” You scolded and he just laughed, again, the most beautiful sound you'd heard all day.
“How about you kiss it better?” He pushed and you gave a snort.
“So you are a kid?”
“Come on.” He whined and gave you his best puppy dog eyes. “You hurt me, star.”
You held back a laugh, though the urge to playfully shove him away was strong. Instead, you gently cupped his face, watching his expression soften as you leaned in, pressing a quick, light kiss to his nose.
He closed his eyes, humming contentedly at the contact. “Again.” He murmured, barely opening his eyes.
“Needy.” You teased, but obliged, giving him another small kiss. He muttered the same request, and you rolled your eyes, leaning in to pepper his nose with a flurry of quick kisses, each one lighter and faster than the last.
But then, just as your last kiss hovered, he lifted his chin, guiding your lips to his. You gasped softly at the unexpected move, but he only pulled you closer, hands shifting from your hips to your waist, deepening the kiss. You couldn’t help but smile against his mouth, warmth flooding through you as you melted into him.
“Cheeky.” You murmured against his lips.
You felt the gentle rumble of his laughter as he held you tighter, closing every bit of space between you until it felt like you’d always belonged there, tangled in his arms, with nothing left between you but the sound of his heart beating against yours.
“Congratulations on potions.” He mumbled and he stepped a bit closer to you. Leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.
You giggled and slipped your hands up his arms, grabbing his biceps and your laughter getting louder as his kisses became a bit more sloppy and messy. From your temple to your cheek to your neck. Devolving you both into laughter and loving kisses.
“Barty?” You whispered and he kissed from where his lips we pressed to your ear.
“Mhm?”
“You should kiss my lips again.”
He paused and slowly his lips curled up into a smirk against your neck. “Anything you want, star.”
He slowly kissed a trail up your neck, to your chin, to you cheek. You were growing a bit impatient, but you couldn't bring yourself to be mad about it. It was slow and sweet. The opposite of him.
The anticipation built with each gentle kiss, and when Barty finally pressed his lips to yours, nothing else mattered. The kiss was everything you hoped it would be; soft, warm, and filled with all the excitement from the sneaking around you had been doing.
You both pulled back slightly, your foreheads resting against each other as you shared a quiet moment, the sound of your mingled laughter still lingering in the air. He was warm, he always was. Just quiet and content. "I've been wanting to do that for a while.” Barty admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his confession. "Me too."
After a moment of pause, Bart slipped his hands out of his pockets and around your waist. You slowly opened your eyes to see he was staring at you so obviously. So much affection and.. pain in his eyes. Carefully your reached up from his shoulders to tangle in his hair.
“Baby.” You cooed, watching as the black pupils of his eyes grew twice their size.
“I love when you call me that.” He whispered and kissed you again. This time, with a bit more hunger for it.
The intensity of the kiss took you by surprise, yet it felt natural, as if this was where you were always meant to be. Barty's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase any lingering distance between you. The world outside the broom closet faded away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, private moment. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that mirrored the emotions you'd both been holding back for so long.
When you finally broke apart, both of you slightly breathless, Barty rested his forehead against yours again. "I need to know.” He whispered. “You're my girl, yeah?”
“Yours.” You confirmed without hesitation. “Your girl.”
Barty's eyes softened, and a relieved smile spread across his face, as if the weight of uncertainty had been lifted. You hadn't realized that for these past few weeks, despite all the flirting and stray touches, the meetings and secret rendezvous you'd never confirmed what felt so obvious to you.
"Good.” He murmured, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek. "Good.”
The two of you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, savoring the stillness and the shared understanding that had only deepened. It was rare to find moments like these at Hogwarts, where every day was bustling with activity and noise, but here, in the quiet confines of the broom closet, you had carved out your own little haven.
"We should probably get back before they start wondering where we are.” You whispered reluctantly, knowing that duty and friendships couldn't be ignored forever. If Remus or anyone went looking in the library for you it was over, Merlin if they pulled out that map they loved to use on you so much you were done for.
Barty nodded, though he made no move to let you go just yet. "I suppose. But we’ll have more time together soon, right?"
"Definitely.” You assured him, smiling as you reluctantly stepped back, already anticipating the next secret meeting, the next shared glance across the crowded halls.
As you both emerged from the broom closet, the world seemed a little brighter, the halls a little more welcoming. And as you parted ways with a lingering look, you knew this was just the beginning of something wonderful.
~~~
You never thought Barty was capable of restraint- his affections for you were never a secret. He had been bold from the start, confessing his feelings on your first meeting as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You assumed he couldn’t hold back if he tried. But the truth was, you had underestimated him completely.
You were a Potter, you were no stranger to a love that burrowed into your heart like a bug. James was a prime example, but he had nothing on your father. You knew love like you knew the sunrise, Potters were love. That still didn't prepare you for the love of Barty Crouch Junior.
The moment you became ‘Barty’s girl,’ subtle gestures turned into grand, unrelenting declarations. Flowers appeared on your bedside in ornate bouquets, chocolates transformed into extravagant assortments, and he began slipping you old notes from his classes, annotated with messages he thought you’d enjoy. Sometimes, you’d find an anonymous love letter tucked between the pages of your books, though you always recognized his handwriting. It was a whirlwind of adoration that grew so excessive even your friends couldn’t ignore it.
The rumor spread quickly: you had a secret admirer. A very devoted one.
What started as stolen glances in the hallways and whispered words in broom closets evolved into something deeper. He became a constant, pulling you into hidden spaces where he’d kiss you like you were the only real thing in his world. His kisses were desperate, his hands always seeking some part of you to hold, as if he feared you might slip through his fingers.
Your world shrank to accommodate him. It was thrilling, yes, but also overwhelming. Each secret meeting was marked by a mix of exhilaration and dread that only lended to thrive in you, every touch, every breathless encounter behind closed doors, reminded you how deeply tangled you were becoming in each other. It was intoxicating and dangerous, like standing too close to a fire.
When he looked at you, it was like he was trying to memorize your every detail, like you were his only source of light.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” He murmured one night, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead against yours. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing the curve of your jaw as his eyes searched yours with raw intensity. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’d burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you.”
You shivered, his words igniting a heat in your chest. “Barty…”
His lips crashed against yours, swallowing the rest of your words. The kiss was frantic, a collision of need and longing, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you closer, like he couldn’t get enough of you. Your knees buckled slightly, but his arm wrapped around your waist, steadying you, grounding you.
“You’re mine,” He whispered against your lips, his voice low and fervent. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.” You breathed, the words spilling out before you could stop them. And it was true- somehow, he’d claimed parts of you you didn’t even know existed. You couldn't even fathom were your breath started and his ended.
He sought you out in the quiet moments, trailing his fingertips down your arm when no one was looking, writing your name in the margins of his notes when he thought you wouldn’t see. You began to realize that to him, you weren’t just a girl he fancied; you were his anchor, his sanctuary in a world that seemed determined to tear him apart. He was becoming yours too.
Your eyes searched for him in every room. The way he flashed you that sickeningly slick smirk when he caught you staring. How he would follow you out of any room you happened to share, just to steal you away from whatever task he deemed not more important then his time with you. Shushing you in empty corridors as his hands found a spot just above your skirt. Ruffling your tie in slight frustration and marking skin no one would see but him. All while looking at you like you were his last salvation.
~~~
The fire crackled in the hearth as you sat cross-legged on your bed, your Transfiguration book open in front of you. Lily sat at your desk, rifling through her notes, while Remus lounged on your bed, one arm thrown casually over the back of a pillow. The three of you had settled in for a relaxed study session, but conversation had drifted away from studies.
"So, are we ever going to find out who it is that's got you all flustered lately?" Remus asked with a teasing grin, nudging your ankle with his foot. Lily looked up from her notes, her eyebrows raising with interest.
"Oh, Remus, give her a break," Lily sighed with a small smile, though you could see the curiosity twinkling in her green eyes. "She’ll tell us when she’s ready."
You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, and you gave Remus a playful kick back. "You’re both ridiculous," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "There’s no one."
Remus rolled his eyes, his smile widening. "Sure, and I'm the Minister of Magic."
You shook your head, flipping open your Transfiguration book to avoid his gaze. "Fascinating. The Minister and all- and you can't even tell me which wand motion is the proper technique to transfigure my desk. Study don't pry into my very uninteresting love life."
"Uninteresting, huh?" Lily asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "I don’t know, those flowers you’ve been getting seem pretty interesting to me."
You opened your mouth to retort when something caught your eye; a folded piece of parchment, carefully tucked between the pages of your book. You furrowed your brow as you pulled it out, unfolding it to see the familiar slanted handwriting of Barty.
Meet me in my dorm. I’ve got something to show you.
Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly folded the note, trying to suppress the smile threatening to spread across your face. You slipped the parchment under your pillow, feeling both Remus’ and Lily’s eyes on you.
"What’s that?" Remus asked, his smirk only growing.
"Nothing," you said quickly, giving them both a bright smile. "Just a reminder for myself."
Lily narrowed her eyes playfully, clearly not buying it, but she didn’t push. "Alright, fine," she said, glancing at the clock on your bedside table. "But I think I should be getting back to my own dorm soon. I promised James I'd meet him."
You nodded, swinging your legs off the bed. "Yeah, I should… um, I’ll be back in a bit."
Remus gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything as you grabbed your robe and made your way towards the door, feeling the folded note burning against your skin. You slipped out of the room, trying to keep your excitement in check as you made your way through the castle.
Not long after you left, James appeared in the doorway, his hair as untidy as ever and a bright smile lighting up his face. "There you are, Evans," he said, striding into the room without knocking. "Ready to go?"
Lily stood, gathering her notes, but before she could respond, James’ eyes flickered to your bed, where the edge of the note you’d tucked under your pillow peeked out. His eyes narrowed slightly, and with the mischievous curiosity that had always been a part of him, he reached over and pulled it out.
"What’s this, then?" James asked, more to himself than anyone else.
Lily turned, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the note. "James, put that back. It's not yours."
But James had already unfolded it, his eyes scanning the words. His playful smile faltered slightly, his brow furrowing as he read the message. “... she's meeting someone. At night.”
Remus wasn't proud of himself, but he felt his body jolt forward at the idea. His brow furrowing as he looked at the handwriting.
“Surely not.” Lily muttered skeptical, walking closer and pouting. “James, whose handwriting is that?”
“Don't know.” He mumbled before he glanced at Remus who grimaced a bit. “I know how to find out.”
~~~
The sun had long since set, plunging the room into shadow. The lone candle on the nightstand burned low, its golden light flickering uncertainly across the walls, casting fleeting glimpses of the intimacy shared within. You lay beside Barty on his narrow bed, his body curled protectively around yours. His hand cradled your cheek, thumb tracing gentle lines as if memorizing your face. His other hand gripped your waist, not possessively but securely, as though grounding himself in the reality of your presence.
His green eyes, bright and intent, held yours with a tenderness so consuming it made your chest ache. The world outside seemed to vanish in this space- no war, no sides, no betrayals. Just the boy you loved, smiling softly at you like you were the only thing keeping him alive.
"What are you smiling about?" You teased, brushing your nose against his, your fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck. He sighed at the touch, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before fixing on you again, filled with the kind of raw vulnerability he showed to no one else.
This was your Barty. The boy who could switch so drastically between needing every bit of your skin against his own, and loving you like you were a fragile truth.
"Just you." He murmured, his voice thick with affection, his smile deepening. "Thinking about how breath taking you look right now.."
Your heart swelled at his words, at the way he looked at you as if you were his last breath. You pressed your lips to his, slow and soft, letting the warmth of his embrace spread through you. His arms tightened around you, his desperation seeping through the way he held you close, as though he feared you might disappear.
But even in this fragile moment, reality intruded. Your lips trailed down his jaw, leaving a line of soft kisses along his neck. As your hand slipped beneath the sleeve of his shirt, your fingers brushed against something rough, foreign. You froze, your heart stuttering as your fingertips traced the unfamiliar texture.
"Barty, what’s this?" You asked, pulling back slightly, your brow furrowing as dread began to creep into your chest. “Did you get a new tattoo?”
His entire body went rigid. His eyes snapped open, the warmth in them replaced by something colder, darker. His hand shot to your wrist, gripping it with startling intensity, though his touch remained gentle. “It’s nothing.” He said- no, demanded quickly, but his voice cracked, and his gaze flickered away. The tension in his jaw, the way he avoided your eyes. It betrayed him.
He couldn't hide from you. Not after he'd given you every way to see him.
"Barty.” You pressed, your voice trembling now. "Show me."
For a long moment, he didn’t move, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the faint twitch of muscle. His eyes darted to yours, filled with a fear so raw it sent a chill through you. Slowly, with trembling hands, he rolled up his sleeve.
The world seemed to stop.
Etched into his pale skin, dark and stark against the flickering candlelight, was the unmistakable mark of the Death Eaters. Your breath hitched, the air in the room turning ice cold as you stared at the symbol that now defined him. The room, once warm and safe, felt suffocating, as though the walls were closing in around you.
"No.” You whispered, shaking your head, your voice breaking as tears stung your eyes. "No, Barty, tell me this isn’t real. Tell me it’s a joke. Please."
He reached for you, his expression desperate, pleading. "It’s not what you think.” He whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his own guilt. "Please, just listen- fuck, let me explain."
"Explain?" You choked, the word a bitter laugh as you scrambled to sit up, the sheets tangling around your legs. “You’re one of them, Barty. A Death Eater. The people who are trying to kill my brother, who would destroy Lily, who hate everything I stand for. How could you? How could you do this?”
He flinched as if you’d struck him, his hands trembling as he reached for you again. “I did it for them,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “For Regulus. For Evan. They needed me- I had to protect them.”
Your laughter came out hollow, bitter. “Protect them? What about me, Barty? What about us? Did you think of me when you let that thing be branded onto your skin? Did you think about what it would mean? About the promises we made?”
“I love you.” He pleaded, his voice breaking on the words. His eyes, wide and glistening with unshed tears, bore into yours, his desperation bleeding through every syllable. “I love you more than anything in this world. I did this for us; for you. I thought I could keep you safe.”
You shook your head, your chest tight, every word he spoke only twisting the knife in your heart. “Safe? You think this is keeping me safe? Barty, you’ve tied yourself to the very people who want to destroy me, my family, my friends. Dorcas got out. She didn’t need to join them. She did it for Marlene! You had a choice, Barty. You could have chosen me.”
“Don’t do this.” He begged, his voice trembling as he sank to his knees in front of you, his hands clutching at yours. “Please, don’t leave me. I can’t lose you. I can’t- I won’t survive it. You’re all I have.”
His raw vulnerability shattered something in you, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to humanity. But even that couldn’t change the mark on his arm, the choices he had made. You tore your hands from his grasp, stepping back as tears streamed down your face.
“I can’t do this.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to hold yourself together. “I can’t be with someone who’s made that choice. Picking that side. Not when it means standing against everything I believe in. I love you, Barty, but this…” Your voice broke. “This isn’t love. Not when it costs so much.”
His face crumpled, his body trembling as he clung to the edge of the bed like it was the only thing holding him up. “You are my side,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re everything to me. Without you, I’m nothing. Darling, please. You have to trust me.”
Your heart shattered at his words, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t let your love for him blind you to the truth of what he had become. Turning away, you moved toward the door, each step feeling like a physical wound.
“Please.” He whispered one last time, his voice so broken it nearly stopped you in your tracks. “Please don’t leave me. I’ll fix it. I'll fix us, darling, my love.”
You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob, tears blurring your vision. “I’m sorry, Barty,” you whispered, your voice trembling with grief. “But you’ve chosen a side. And it isn’t mine.”
With that, you stepped out of the room, the soft click of the door behind you sealing the final break between you. Each step down the hallway felt like walking through fire, the ache in your chest consuming you. You pressed a hand to your mouth to stifle a sob, the image of him- broken, desperate, lost- burned into your mind.
But you kept walking, because if you turned back, you knew you’d never leave. And that was the one thing you couldn’t allow.
Not when his love came with a price you could no longer bear to pay.
~~~
It was well past curfew when you stumbled back into the dormitory, your body heavy with exhaustion and your heart feeling as though it had been shattered into pieces too small to ever put back together. Every step echoed hollowly in the silent hallways, the sound swallowed by the crushing weight in your chest. You didn’t care about the risk of being caught; the only thing propelling you forward was the desperate need to collapse, to sink into the safety of your bed where the world couldn’t reach you.
But the sight that greeted you when you pushed open the door wasn’t the solitude you craved.
James stood with the Marauder's Map clutched tightly in his hand, his face flushed with a mix of anger and worry that twisted painfully at the sight of you. Sirius paced like a caged animal, his jaw tight, his dark eyes alight with barely restrained frustration. Remus sat perched on the edge of your bed, his brow furrowed with concern, while Lily lingered by the desk, her green eyes soft and filled with sympathy. Peter, as always, quiet. Hovering in the background.
"There you are!" James's voice rang out, sharp and filled with barely contained emotion. The sound made you flinch, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He crossed the space between you in two quick strides, holding up the map like a damning piece of evidence. “You want to tell me what the hell you were doing in the Ravenclaw dorms? Or should I save you the trouble? I know who you were with.”
The accusation in his voice hit like a physical blow. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The fight you would usually summon to deflect his concern- the sarcasm or sharp retorts; was gone. It had crumbled under the weight of the truth you could no longer avoid. Your shoulders slumped, the tears you had tried so desperately to hold back beginning to blur your vision.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you, James.” You muttered, though your voice was a faint shadow of its usual strength. It trembled, hollow and lifeless, like it no longer belonged to you.
James scoffed, his frustration boiling over. "Don’t have to explain? You’ve been sneaking around with him! Don’t you see what he is?” His voice cracked, the anger giving way to something far more fragile. "He’s one of them, isn’t he? A bloody Death Eater.”
His words were a knife twisting in your chest. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath, your body trembling under the weight of his accusation. But you didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. Because James was right. He had been right all along.
"Say something!" Sirius’s voice cut through the silence, raw and desperate. He stepped closer, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his pacing halted by his need for answers. His sharp gaze burned into you, searching for some explanation, some reassurance that you hadn’t fallen so deeply into something so dangerous. He couldn't bare to see you follow, not after losing Regulus to it. “Anything.”
Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you whispered, “You were right.” The words came out broken, each one heavier than the last. “You were both right… about everything.”
The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of your admission pressing down on everyone. James’s expression crumbled, his anger dissolving into a mix of heartbreak and understanding. He moved toward you, his voice soft and filled with pain. “Oh, sweetheart…” He murmured, reaching for you.
That was all it took. The dam inside you broke, and a sob tore its way out of your chest. James pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as your knees buckled beneath you. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his robes, your whole body trembling.
“I thought he loved me.” You choked out, the words spilling from your lips in between gasps for breath. “I thought- he said he loved me. But he lied. He lied to me.”
James’s arms tightened around you, his own tears slipping silently down his face. “I know,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I know, Bambi. I’m so sorry.”
Sirius stepped forward then, his anger replaced by an aching sadness. His hand rested on your back, tentative at first, before he let out a shaky breath. “We were only trying to protect you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “We didn’t want this for you. We didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Lily knelt beside you, her warm hand brushing against your arm as she looked up at you, her eyes filled with sympathy. “We’re here now,” she said gently. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ve got you.”
You turned to her, your tear-streaked face trembling as you met her gaze. “I don’t know what to do now,” you admitted, your voice small and broken.
Remus, silent until now, stepped closer and placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was steady, grounding. “You take it one step at a time,” he said softly, his calm voice a lifeline. “Just breathe for me. Ten in, ten out. We’ll figure it out together.”
You nodded, trying to follow his guidance, your breaths still shaky but slowing little by little. The sobs subsided, leaving you with a hollow ache in your chest that felt impossibly heavy.
“Come on.” He whispered, his voice filled with a protective warmth. “Let’s get you into bed. You don’t have to think about anything else tonight.”
You nodded with a distant look, letting him coax you into your bed. You felt like a child.
“Jamie, let's head back to the dorms, yeah?” Lily said quietly, her eyes flicking to James, who stood near the foot of your bed, still looking worried.
“But..” James started, staring at your slightly trembling form, reluctant to leave you like this. He wanted to protect you, to make sure you were okay, but the look Remus gave him was enough to hold him back. Remus’s gaze was gentle but resolute, silently reassuring James that he would be here, that he’d stay by your side tonight.
James sighed, his reluctance clear, but he finally nodded. He glanced at Sirius, then back to Remus, letting out a slow breath. “Right. Let’s let her rest then?”
“Yeah,” Lily whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the back of your head. She lingered for a moment, her hand still gently stroking your hair. “We’ll be back in the morning.”
Sirius looked like he was about to protest, his expression torn between wanting to stay and knowing he had to let you rest. But Remus quietly reached for the familiar book on your nightstand. He shuffled slightly, getting comfortable next to you. Remus turned his head to look at Sirius, offering a reassuring nod.
“I’ve got her,” he said softly, his voice calm and steady. It was enough to ease some of the tension in the room. Sirius hesitated for a moment longer, then gave a small, reluctant nod. He exchanged one last glance with James before following Lily towards the door.
James lingered just a heartbeat longer, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Get some sleep, alright?” He whispered, his voice filled with love and concern. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Goodnight, Bambi.” Peter mumbled from the same spot he stood earlier, slowly shying behind James as he left. And with that, they left the room, the door closing softly behind them. The silence settled back over the room, and Remus turned towards you, his presence a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone. He carefully opened the book, his fingers brushing over the worn pages.
His voice, quiet and soothing, filled the room as he began to read, his words wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. You turned slightly, facing Remus, his voice becoming a soft rhythm that helped to steady your breaths, one at a time. His free hand rested near yours, close enough that if you wanted, you could reach for it. He didn’t push. He simply stayed, his calm presence anchoring you. Eventually, as his gentle voice lulled you, the weight on your chest seemed to lighten just a fraction, and you let your eyes drift shut. For the first time that night, you allowed yourself to let go, to let the exhaustion take over. The sound of Remus’s voice, the warmth of his presence, made it feel just a little bit more bearable.
~~~
You woke the next morning to soft murmurs drifting through your dormitory. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, painting the walls in a gentle glow. For a moment, the warmth tricked you into thinking everything was fine. But then the memories of the night before came flooding back. Barty’s betrayal, the heartbreak, the fight- and the ache in your chest returned with full force.
You forced yourself to sit up, rubbing at your stinging eyes. Across the room, you saw Lily and Remus speaking quietly near the window. Lily noticed you first, her soft smile tinged with sadness. She crossed the room, settling beside you and placing a comforting hand on your arm.
“Morning.” She said gently, her voice careful, as though she were afraid you might shatter under the weight of it all. “How are you feeling?”
You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t know,” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Your body felt heavy, like every muscle was pulling you back down into the mattress, but the weight wasn’t comforting- it was suffocating.
Remus moved closer, offering you a steaming cup of tea. “Take your time.” He mused, his gaze steady and kind. You accepted the cup with a small nod, letting the warmth seep into your hands even if it couldn’t reach your heart.
You hesitated before asking, “James?” The one person you were dreading facing.
Lily and Remus exchanged a glance. “He’s alright,” Lily said gently. “Probably caught up with Head Boy duties. He’s just worried about you.”
You nodded, guilt twisting in your chest. “I didn’t want to upset him…”
Lily squeezed your arm. “He loves you. He just needs time to process everything. He’ll come around.”
Remus gave you a soft smile. “How about some fresh air? It might help clear your head.”
Reluctantly, you agreed. Staying in bed wouldn’t make anything better, and maybe the cold air would numb more than just your fingers. You wrapped a robe around yourself and followed Remus and Lily out of the tower, their steady presence keeping you grounded as you moved through the quiet castle halls. Each step felt like a small victory against the chaos inside your heart.
Just as you began to feel the chill of the air prickling your skin, a familiar voice shouting down the hall made your blood run cold. The words were indistinct, but the rage behind them was unmistakable. Your heart leapt into your throat, and you quickened your pace, your pulse pounding.
When you turned the corner, the scene stopped you in your tracks. James had Barty pinned against the wall, his fist gripping the collar of Barty’s shirt. His face was twisted in fury, his voice shaking as he snarled at him. A small crowd of students had gathered, whispering and watching the spectacle unfold.
“You think you can just hurt her?” James spat, slamming Barty against the stone wall. “You think there wouldn’t be consequences?”
Barty didn’t fight back. He stood there, taking every shove, his face pale and hollow, but his eyes- his eyes betrayed him. They weren’t empty; they were frantic, burning with guilt, fear, and something that terrified you when they flicked to your own. He didn’t even seem to register James’s words. His entire focus was on you, standing frozen in the hallway.
Sirius leaned casually against the wall nearby, a cigarette dangling from his lips, though his sharp eyes were anything but relaxed. “Go on, Prongs,” he muttered, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Give him hell.”
Your voice cracked as you shoved through the onlookers. “James, stop!” You shouted, panic lacing your words. But James didn’t hear you, his rage blinding him as he shoved Barty again, his voice trembling with emotion.
“You don’t get to treat her like that, to use her, and walk away like nothing happened!” James’s fist cocked back, and you screamed again, louder this time. “James!”
Sirius turned, startled by the desperation in your voice. He immediately straightened, stepping toward James. “Mate,” Sirius hissed, grabbing James’s shoulder. “She’s here.”
James froze, his chest heaving as he turned to look at you. His face softened the instant he saw the tears streaking your cheeks, but the tension in his body didn’t fade entirely. He let go of Barty’s shirt with a sharp shove, his hands falling to his sides.
Barty stumbled back, his hand reaching up to rub his neck, but his eyes were locked on you. His voice was hoarse and trembling when he finally spoke. “Please…” His gaze was raw, desperate. “Please, just talk to me.”
You froze, the pain in his eyes tugging at something in your chest even as you recoiled from him. “I don’t want to-”
“She doesn’t need to,” Remus’s voice cut in, low but firm as he stepped in front of you. He placed a steady hand on your arm, keeping you rooted beside him. “That's all, Crouch.”
Barty flinched at the tone in Remus’s voice, but he didn’t look away from you. “I just need a moment,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “Just one chance to explain- she has to know that I didn’t mean-”
“Bartemius.” Remus said sharply, though his tone never rose. His calmness was like a dam, holding back the chaos in the room. He stepped forward slightly, his hand still on your arm. “That's all.”
Barty’s shoulders sagged, his face crumpling as he looked at you one last time. “I love you.” He whispered, his voice so broken it sent a chill down your spine. “You have to know that.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Remus gently tugged you closer to him, shielding you from Barty’s gaze. “Come on,” he murmured softly. “Let’s go.”
As Lily took your other side, guiding you down the hallway, you could feel Barty’s eyes following you, like he was clinging to the sight of you as his last lifeline. Behind you, Sirius muttered something sharp under his breath before stomping out his cigarette and following James, who stood frozen, his jaw tight as he stared after you.
You felt like a pathetic child. Being ushered around and babied, but you didn't fight it. You wanted this nightmare of a year to be over.
So when Regulus and Evan finally came, and the Black brothers shared some hateful words- and Lily dragged James away from the impending fight, you stayed hidden under Remus’s arm. The yelling and the arguments just sounded like buzzing in your ears. Leaving you to stare blankly off at the mess you had created. Watching as Evan took Barty away and Regulus glanced at you with an expression that flashed between sour, sympathetic, and careful. Turning on his heel to hurry after his friends. You wanted this year to end.
~~~
The rest of your sixth year at Hogwarts passed in a haze. After the confrontation between James and Barty, you felt like you were living in fragments- moments of warmth with your friends interrupted by long, suffocating stretches of numbness. James, Sirius, Remus, Lily, and Peter had rallied around you, protective and supportive, but the pain lingered. Barty’s betrayal, his mark, the weight of his choices. It all clung to you, no matter how hard you tried to shake it.
The school year ended with bittersweet farewells. James and everyone graduated, leaving behind an emptiness that Hogwarts couldn’t fill. On the train ride home, James gave you a fierce hug, his voice low but steady. “You’re going to be okay.” He whispered, as if saying it enough times would make it true. “We’ll all be okay.” His determination was a promise: he would fight, protect, and do whatever it took to keep you and the people he loved safe. It terrified how how devoted to the war he became, he hated to leave you at Hogwarts alone.
But the summer brought its own heartbreak. James and Lily joined the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius, Peter, and Remus close behind- throwing themselves into the war. The house was too quiet without James’s booming laugh or Sirius’s teasing remarks. Letters from James came sporadically, and the tension in his words bled through the parchment.
Then, not long after James and Lily’s wedding, your world shattered. Your parents got sick and you hardly left their bed side. They died days apart and you wondered if that's what it looks like; real love. Not able to be apart for even a week before returning to one another no matter what disaster they left behind. Though, you knew it wasn't true, just your own comfort. James, crushed under the weight of his grief, threw himself further into the Order. You rarely saw him. Remus kept you company as best he could, but even he had missions that pulled him away. Sirius made sure to remind you that James just wanted to protect what little family he had left, it killed you to not be there with them. The isolation was unbearable, every goodbye feeling like it could be the last. The ache of losing your family was only worsened by the fear that the rest of the people you loved would follow.
When you returned for your seventh year, Hogwarts felt hollow, almost unfamiliar without James, Sirius, or the others. But Dorcas Meadowes was there, refusing to leave you to fend for yourself. She became your constant companion, the person you leaned on most. The two of you forged a quiet understanding- she never pushed you to talk about Barty, and you never asked about the darkness she’d left behind. Dorcas was the girl who had escaped the worst parts of her legacy, a beacon of strength and resilience that kept you grounded.
Still, no matter how far you tried to distance yourself from Barty, he remained a presence in your life. Letters appeared on your bed, scribbled with frantic apologies. Flowers were left outside your dormitory door, wilting reminders of his desperation. He cornered you in empty corridors, his green eyes burning with longing as he begged you to listen.
“I love you,” He whispered one evening, his voice breaking as he blocked your path outside the library. “I’ve always loved you- since we were kids. You have to know that. What I did- it wasn’t about hurting you. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought…” He trailed off, his hands trembling at his sides. “I need you, star. I can’t do this without you.”
You clenched your fists, your chest tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. His words always left a mark, reopening wounds you were desperately trying to heal. “Barty.” You whispered quietly, your voice shaking. “You need to let me go. This… this isn’t love. Not when it hurts this much.”
He flinched as though you’d slapped him, his eyes filling with tears. “It is love,” He insisted, stepping closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve never felt this before- it's terrifying. I haven't been in this much pain before. I’d give you anything- everything- if you just came back to me. Star I can't do this.”
You shook your head, your breath hitching. “That’s not what I want. I don't like feeling like this either, Barty. I wanted you, Barty. But you made your choice. Your cause- what they have done to my family alone-”
Despite your protests, the line between you blurred one night near the end of the school year. He found you in the Astronomy Tower, the only place you could escape responsibility. The sight of him made your heart ache. He looked so much like the boy you had fallen for; tousled hair, eyes filled with a longing so fierce it made your knees weak. And for a moment, you forgot yourself.
“I hate what I’ve done to you,” He confessed, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “I hate that I’ve hurt you. But I can’t stop loving you.”
The vulnerability in his voice cracked something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, your lips met his. The kiss was frantic, desperate. His hands cradled your face as though you were something sacred, something he couldn’t bear to lose. For a fleeting moment, you let yourself drown in him, in the memory of what you once had.
But as quickly as it began, reality crashed over you. You pulled away, your breathing uneven as tears blurred your vision. “We can’t.” You whispered, stepping back. “This isn’t right.”
Barty reached for you, his voice trembling. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t walk away again. I’ll change- I’ll leave everything behind if that’s what it takes. Just… don’t leave me.”
The sincerity in his words nearly broke you, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “If you loved me, you would’ve chosen me before it came to this,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “But it’s too late, Barty. You can’t undo what’s been done. We both.. we both know if it came to me or Regulus- me or Evan.”
“That's not fair.” He croaked.
Your eyes flicked up to his as your tears rushed down your face. “It isn't.”
His shoulders slumped, the light in his eyes dimming as your words sank in. For the first time, he seemed to realize that no amount of pleading or promises would bring you back to him. “I’ll always love you.” whispered, his voice hollow.
You turned away, your heart shattering as you walked down the spiral staircase, leaving him alone in the tower. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, you’d lose your resolve.
When the train pulled into King’s Cross at the end of the year, you were greeted by the sight of your brother and his friends waiting for you. James’s grin was wide as he swept you into a bear hug, and for the first time in months, you felt like you could breathe again. Sirius ruffled your hair, Remus gave you a reassuring smile, and Lily’s arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders.
Even as you smiled, as you let yourself feel the warmth of their love and support, a part of you still ached. A part of you still thought of the boy you had left behind. But as the summer sun warmed your face and James’s laughter rang in your ears, you realized that some chapters had to end, no matter how much they hurt.
~~~
The kitchen was warm, filled with the comforting smell of breakfast and the sound of soft laughter. Lily twirled Harry in her arms, humming along to the radio as James danced beside them, making ridiculous faces to elicit another bright giggle from his son. Harry’s laughter rang out like a bell, pure and joyful, filling the room with a happiness so genuine it felt almost untouchable.
June 24, 1981. The day meant nothing and yet everything, because for a fleeting moment, life felt like it was untouched by war. Even without Peter, the Potter manor felt like home again.
Sirius leaned against the counter, a mischievous grin lighting his face as he watched James spin Harry dramatically before dipping him like a proper ballroom partner. “Fancy a dance, Bambi?” Sirius asked, holding out a hand to you with an exaggerated flourish.
You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it. “Only if you promise not to step on my feet, Black.” You placed your hand in his, letting him pull you into the center of the kitchen. The music was upbeat, and Sirius matched it with absurdly exaggerated movements, twirling you around with flair that made you laugh so hard you had to clutch his shoulder for balance.
Sirius finally let out a mock sigh, fanning himself. “Too much for me, little Potter.” He joked, stepping aside. “Your turn, Moony. Show her how a real gentleman dances.”
Remus chuckled softly, stepping forward with a shake of his head. He took your hand with a gentleness that made your heart ache, pulling you into a slower, steadier rhythm despite the lively tune still playing on the radio. Even with his weight pressed heavy on his crutch, and your movements small and slow, it still felt all the same. His gaze lingered on yours, his hazel eyes soft and filled with something you couldn’t quite name.
"You deserve this.” He muttered quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. “To smile like this every day.”
The warmth of his words filled your chest, but it was bittersweet, a reminder of all the times you hadn’t felt this light. You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing a small smile. “You do too, Remus.”
He returned the smile, spinning you one last time before James swept in with dramatic flair, lifting you off the ground. “One more dance before breakfast!” He announced, making you laugh despite yourself. “No sad faces allowed today. We’re celebrating.”
It was perfect- the kind of moment you could tuck away and hold onto when the world outside felt unbearable. Lily danced with Harry in her arms, Sirius joined in with exaggerated moves, and the room filled with the kind of happiness you hadn’t felt in so long. For a brief, fragile moment, it was enough.
But then the music stopped.
The radio cut out abruptly, replaced by the somber voice of a news broadcaster. “We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an urgent update on the latest casualties in the ongoing conflict. The names of those lost in the recent skirmish include…”
The warmth of the room vanished, the light dimming as everyone froze. James set you down gently, his expression hardening as he turned toward the radio. Lily instinctively clutched Harry closer, her face pale. Sirius’s grin disappeared entirely, his hand hovering near the dial as though he could will the news away.
The list of names continued, some familiar, most not. Each one was a reminder of the growing cost of the war, of the lives slipping away like grains of sand.
And then you heard it.
“...Evan Rosier, Bartemius Crouch Junior…”
The words echoed in your ears, louder than anything else. The world seemed to stop. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as the name repeated in your mind, over and over. Barty.
The boy who had loved you so fiercely, who had been so lost, so desperate to make you stay. He was gone. Evan too, another name tethered to your past, but it was Barty’s that struck you like a knife to the chest.
At first, you laughed. You could of sworn James looked at you like you had lost it; you wouldn't blame him. It was ridiculous. The boy you knew, the magnetic and ethereal wizard who you gave your all too couldn't possibly be dead. He was your age. He was a kid. You had both just graduated- what in Merlin's name could they possibly be on about?
Your laughter slowly died down into a choked gasp and a sniffle, your body stiff. You closed your eyes tight and tried to stifle your sobs. “No…” Your knees buckled, and James caught you instantly, his arm tightening around your shoulders. Sirius reached out, shutting off the radio with a harsh click, the silence that followed deafening.
“He…” Your voice cracked, trembling as you forced the words out. “He’s really gone?”
Remus stepped closer, his expression pained. He placed a hand on your shoulder, steady and comforting. “Yes,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Lily’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she rocked Harry gently, trying to keep him calm. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. The sound of her grief only deepened the ache in your chest.
James pressed his nose to your temple, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’m sorry, Bambi,” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
The tears came before you could stop them, spilling freely as your body trembled. You clung to James like he was the only thing keeping you grounded, your sobs muffled against his shoulder. The memories of Barty overwhelmed you; the way he’d looked at you, like you were his everything; the way he’d held you, as though letting go would destroy him. The thought that you would never see him again, never hear his voice or feel his touch, crushed you.
“I thought I was over him.” You whispered through your tears, your voice trembling. “I swore I was. But now…”
Sirius moved closer, his arm wrapping around you and James. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’ve got you.”
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Your throat felt too tight, the lump of grief choking you. You lifted your head to look around the room, at the faces of the people who had been your family for so long. They were blurry through your tears, but their love was palpable, a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.
Still, the ache remained, deep and unrelenting. Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you had moved on, a part of you would always carry Barty. His loss wasn’t just his death; it was the loss of what could have been, the love that might have saved him if only things had been different. If only he chose it. Because you and Barty were a Hogwarts fling, everyone knows they don't last forever. But even if it crashed in a blazing glory, even if you both turned bitter, if the break up destroyed you. You'd rather feel that.
The kitchen felt colder now, the warmth of the morning replaced by the sobering weight of reality. And yet, as James held you tightly, as Sirius and Remus stayed close, as Lily hummed softly to soothe Harry, you knew you weren’t alone. Even in the face of heartbreak, you were still surrounded by love. And somehow, you would find a way to carry on.
~~~ Bonus Scene~~~
The house was suffocating in its silence.
Your childhood home, once filled with laughter and the chaotic warmth of your family, now seemed cold and lifeless. James and Lily were busy with their own lives, preparing for the future that everyone whispered about in cautious tones, and Sirius had left for good reason you couldn’t fault him for. You were alone, and the empty hallways of the Potter Manor only amplified the echo of your own thoughts.
It had been days since you’d learned the news of what befell Barty.
After the shock ran over you it took days of Remus coaxing to get you out of bed. Then days to be able to face a mirror. Everyone was supportive, helpful, but you felt just as pathetic as you did in school.
The ache in your chest felt heavier tonight as you climbed the stairs to your old room. The moonlight filtered through the windows, casting long, pale shadows across the walls. You reached your room and pushed the door open, slipping inside and locking it with a flick of your wand. It was habit more than anything; no one else was here.
You set your wand on the bedside table and turned toward the window, intent on shutting the heavy curtains, when a hand clamped over your mouth.
Panic erupted within you, and instinct took hold. Without thinking, you threw your head back as hard as you could, the satisfying crack of impact reverberating through your skull. A sharp, pained grunt followed, and the grip on you loosened.
Spinning around, your heart hammering in your chest, you braced for a fight- only to come face to face with the last person you’d expected to see.
“Bloody hell, star,” Barty groaned, one hand pressed to his nose as he leaned against the wall for support. Blood trickled between his fingers, but his lips still curled into that maddeningly familiar smirk. “That’s twice you’ve done that. Are you always this violent, or am I special?”
The air left your lungs, your body frozen in place. “No.” You whispered, shaking your head as if the motion could erase what you were seeing. “No. You’re- You’re supposed to be dead.”
Barty let out a low chuckle, straightening up and swiping at the blood on his face. “I think.. we should talk.”
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#sirius black#james potter#Remus Lupin#mauraders era#mauraders#hp marauders#james potter x sister!reader#James potter x potter!reader#barty x reader#barty crouch jr fanfic#barty jr#bartemius crouch junior#barty crouch jr x you#barty crouch x reader#barty crouch fanfic#angst#ouch ouch ouch#lily Evans#lily x james
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Love's Second Chance: A Holiday Reunion - Chapter 5
Summary: After their date, Y/N takes Negan back home with her where the two of them try to get lost in one another, but have to tackle some obstacles along the way.
Characters: Negan Smith, the reader (OC), Elizabeth, Joel Miller (Mentions), Tommy Miller (mentions), etc.
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60501985/chapters/155078377
Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Oral, Angst, Uncomfortable Situations, Unprotected P in V, etc.
Notes: There is no Joel in this chapter, but he is talked about quite a bit. Thanks to those that are reading the story and also a big thank you to those that comment! It means a lot!
Walking up to the front door of her home had Y/N trembling. It was no doubt a combination of things. The revealing dress that she was wearing likely didn’t help since it had started snowing again and it was freezing. But what also added to her nervousness was the reminder that Joel was the only man she had ever slept with. Continuously that lingered in her mind.
“Careful,” she instructed Negan, her fingers hooking tighter with his knowing that the snow was incredibly slippery as they made their way up to the door. Once she moved up the steps and pulled her keys from the jacket she had on, she realized just how much she really was shaking. Getting the key in the door was hard so she had to focus herself. By the time she pushed the door open, she felt a little resistance from Negan when she headed into the house. Gazing back over her shoulder, she noticed something in Negan’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I need you to let me know you really want me to come inside,” Negan responded, his chiseled jawline flexing when he looked to their hands.
“Is this the part where you tell me you are a vampire now and you can’t come in without me inviting you first?” she teased him, enjoying the way that his thumb swept over the back of her hand. A smirk tugged at his handsome features and she wondered if she had done something wrong.
“No, I just…” Negan paused, his thick eyebrows bouncing up when he shook his head. “I don’t want you to think that I only asked you out because I wanted to have sex with you. I don’t want you to think you have to have sex with me because you feel guilty for things either. I really did just want to spend time with you because I missed you.”
Turning to face Negan fully, she reached for his other hand and politely urged him into the house. Moving forward, she reached out to cup his face in her palms tenderly. Hushing him, she braced her weight against him when she got him to lower down to meet her in a kiss.
“I want you here. Not because I feel guilty, not because I just want a one-night stand or think you do,” she assured him with his eyelids getting heavy and his lips parting. Nuzzling his nose in against hers had her addicted to the feeling of someone so desperate to be near her. “I just want you here.”
“Yes ma’am,” Negan licked his lips, stepping back to close the door for her and lock it. Turning on his heel, Negan moved slowly until he was standing before her. His beautiful hazel eyes were locked on hers with his long eyelashes fluttering. Stroking his fingers down over the side of her face had her eyes coming to a tight close and he sighed. “I should have called you. I should have been part of your life and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You’re here now,” she whispered, reaching up to place her hand in over his, caressing over it.
Fluttering her eyes to an open, she curled her fingers loosely around his wrist and led him toward the stairs. Taking their time, she moved up the stairs heading for her bedroom. Once inside, she allowed him to follow her and she closed the door behind them. Negan stood at the center of the room, his breathing loud as he closely watched her every move. Stroking her fingers over the center of his chest had Negan’s long eyelashes fluttering. It was hard to imagine, but Negan looked incredibly vulnerable right now standing in front of her.
Pushing her fingers underneath the material of his suit jacket had it falling down his arms. The jacket got to his wrists and he had to help her get it off him. Tossing it to the floor, Negan swallowed down hard and felt her plucking apart the remaining buttons of his black, button-down shirt. Untucking the shirt from his pants, she lowered her hands down over the lower part of his abdomen allowing them to flatten against the warmth of his flesh. Negan’s body was so vastly different than Joel’s and it would take some getting used to. Sliding her palms up had her fingers teasing through the dark curls of hair over Negan’s torso. The touch had his abdomen sinking in repeatedly with his deep breaths until she reached his chest. Starting to kiss faintly at the center of his chest had a low rumble of a moan falling from his throat.
At the same time, Negan was helping her work her jacket from her body getting it to fall at their feet with his. There was a desire burning deep within him with every delicate kiss she pressed over his chest. Working with her, they managed to get his shirt off and to the ground as well. What surprised him was how she looked at him. How she took all of him in. Touching his body, learning his tattoos and cherishing him like he was a work of art.
“I feel like a teenager again,” Negan whispered lifting his hands just enough to let them settle against her hips. It had her chuckling against his flesh as she started peppering her kisses over his collarbone toward his shoulders to where his freckles were. The wet kisses against his shoulder had Negan’s eyes coming to a close while he enjoyed her pampering his body. “I’m shaking.”
“We were just out in the snow,” she found it cute that he was insisting that she was making him nervous. Tipping her head back, she looked up at him and saw him smirk. Shaking his head, he lowered down to steal a kiss from her lips.
“No, I’m not shaking because I’m cold,” Negan assured her with a snicker, nipping faintly at her bottom lip. “You fucking do this to me. You always did this to me. I’ve missed you so fucking much and the idea of us finally doing this…I’m kinda fucking nervous.”
“You’re nervous?” she found amusement in that, drawing small shapes down over his body. “You’re the celebrity. If anyone should be nervous, it’s me.”
“Right now I just feel like a boy all over again. In love with a girl that is capable of holding my whole heart in her hand,” Negan reached for one of her hands to bring it up for him to deposit a kiss over the back of it.
Hearing the way he spoke took her breath away. Tipping in, she took her time to pepper small, wet kisses over his chest. Negan wasn’t kidding when he said he was trembling. It was obvious, but she found herself drawn to it. Pressing her fingers against his lower abdomen, she put enough pressure into it to have him back stepping. The back of his knees hit the bed causing him to lower down onto the edge of it. Having his big eyes watching her with him breathing loudly sent chills down her spine. A rush flooded her veins when she brazenly reached behind her to drag the zipper down in her dress. Stepping out of her shoes, she swallowed down hard with the way that Negan had his eyes locked on her. Awe filled them with him pressing his hands at his side to help brace himself.
Doubts did fill her mind at the idea of all of this as the material parted. Afterall, Joel was really the only man she had been with her whole life. She could be terrible with sex and not really know it. Plus, she hadn’t had much practice. In the last few years she had only been with Joel a few times. So she didn’t know if she’d continue to be this brave. Lowering the material down her body had her standing before Negan in only her black panties.
A tremoring breath escaped his lips and he wiggled his finger to urge her closer to him. Hooking his arm around her waist, Negan helped her crawl in over his lap. The warmth of his chest pressed against hers with him palming his large hands up over the lengths of her back, “You take my breath away.”
Hearing that took hers away when he claimed her lips with his again. Instead of just jumping right into things, they took their time caressing over each other’s bodies. Touching each other and getting used to the other all over again. A fire ran through her veins while she stroked at Negan’s scalp with his lips kissing up and over her jawline back toward her neck.
A wet sound fell from Negan’s lips when she shakily moved from his lap to slide down to her knees before him. Keeping her eyes hooked on his, she felt his thumb sweeping over her bottom lip and she kissed at the pad of his thumb. First she took her time getting his belt undone before working open his pants. Kissing at the area right above the hemline of his pants had him sucking in a sharp breath of air. Stroking his fingers through her hair, Negan was amazed with the way she was with him. Rushing things was not something they were doing here. She was pampering his body, cherishing him like he was a gift that had been given to her.
Hooking her fingers into his pants, she used a bit of strength to get them down his hips. Helping her, Negan lifted up so she could get the material of his dark slacks and his boxer briefs down his long slender body. A smacking sound followed with his erection hitting his lower abdomen. Carefully she set his clothes beside her on the floor and he swallowed down hard.
“You are so gorgeous,” she swept her fingers down over Negan’s leg evoking a tight groan from him. Crawling closer to him had his chest rising and falling.
Anticipation flooded his veins as he licked his lips to wet them. Urging his knees apart, she rest herself between them. Palming up over his thighs had him humming out. It was like she was taking her time to learn all of him again. Sweeping her fingers in over his injured knee took his breath away. Delicately she dragged her fingers across the scarring that was done from his surgeries that he had. Usually he was pretty sensitive about that area because it was the one part of his body that he wasn’t comfortable with. Swallowing down hard, he watched as she lowered her head to press faint kisses over his scars. The tenderness in the way she touched him and kissed at his body had Negan tremoring beneath her touch. Most people he wouldn’t be comfortable with doing this, but she genuinely seemed to care for him. And it drew him to her even more.
Having her looking up at him from where she was had chills flooding throughout his body. Other than Lucille, when people were with him they typically looked at him a certain way. It was either excitement with the fact they were hooking up with a celebrity where they only cared about the moment, not him or they just looked at him like he was something to be won. But in her eyes, he saw someone who actually seemed to care. There was an empathy for him that not a lot of people had. But it wasn’t in a way that was meant to make him feel bad. She just didn’t like seeing him hurt.
Palming over the side of her face had her turning into his touch to place a loving kiss over the center of his hand. Broken breaths fell from his lips. It had been so long since someone’s touch had been genuine where the person seemed to actually care for him.
As her kisses started to press over his thighs, he felt the warmth of them growing closer to his center and he let out a tremoring breath. Brushing his thumb against her cheek, he urged her to look up at him breaking the contact of her kisses from his flesh, “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” she slurred palming in over the length of Negan’s shaft triggering him to close his eyes tightly. Groaning out, he felt her kisses following the movement and it had him caressing in over her shoulders. It was very sensual with what she was doing. She wasn’t out to prove something. It was just her cherishing his body and pampering him. Dragging her tongue along the length of his shaft had his thighs flexing and a sharp breath escaping him.
A low rumble of a moan fell from his throat when she curled her fingers around the base of his erection. Getting up further on her knees, she led his cock to her lips. Gentle kisses pressed over his manhood and his hips slid in closer to her. Watching her made him breathless. Reaching the tip, her lips parted taking him in. The warmth of her mouth surrounding his sensitive flesh drew out a deep raspy moan from his throat. Hearing that was a gift in itself. It made her want to do this all the more. Caressing over her shoulders and down over the center of her back, he wanted to relax her. Show her his appreciation. At first, her motions were slow. Dropping her head down slightly, taking her time then to pull back and drag her tongue against his erection. Each movement allowed her to take more of him into her mouth. And he was loving it.
Licking his lips, Negan stroked his fingers against the back of her neck. Now he understood the whole comment about everything feeling like the first time. Because this felt exactly like that. Whispering praises to her while she pleasured him only enticed her more. Sweeping her hair from her face, Negan was desperate to watch her. It looked like she enjoyed herself with every bob her head made over his length.
Taking a breath, she pulled her lips not too far away from his cock having his hips arch up toward her. With a smile, she teased kisses at the wet tip. Her tongue slightly dragging out against the soft, velvety skin. Varying between wet kisses and sweeps of her tongue over his body had him tensing up beneath her.
“Your cock is perfect,” she slurred against the tip of it, her eyes locking with his. Teasing her tongue across the patch of skin where the shaft and tip met had him locking up. His eyes closed and he shook. “I haven’t completely forgotten what you liked.”
Sliding his hand up over the side of her neck, Negan dragged his thumb along her jawline and smiled, “So much time has passed, but it feels like fucking yesterday. You are as fucking perfect as you’ve always been.”
Gentle strokes over his body continued, but he knew that in this moment, he didn’t need her to keep pampering him. So he reached for her, being careful in the way that he helped her up from her knees. Standing up, Negan made her gasp when he picked her up in his arms. Surprised filled her eyes at how easily he did it. Showing the strength that he had when he lowered her down at the center of the bed.
Suddenly this all started to feel real again. For a while it just felt like a blast from her past, a memory she had long forgotten but as Negan reached for the hemline of her panties she felt anxious before him. For the last however many years she had been only Joel’s. Yet here she was with someone completely new, someone who knew her just as much as Joel did in the past.
“Negan,” she stopped him before he could tug at the material, having him looking to her. “I know I’m not what I used to be. I’m sure I was cuter when we were younger.”
“No,” Negan hushed her, shaking his head when he started dragging the material down her legs. Getting them from her feet, Negan dropped them beside the bed and gave her a weak smile. Caressing at her lower legs, Negan realized that she was starting to get nervous. Doing his best to calm her, he allowed his touch to raise higher up toward her thighs. Shifting his weight over her, Negan did his best to urge her legs apart. Lowering himself down, he started peppering kisses at the inside of her thigh. Lifting his eyes, he flashed another smile seeing that her pupils were dilated with lust for him. “You are perfect. You’ve always been perfect. Then. Now…”
Hooking his arms under her knees, he pulled her in closer to him allowing his kisses to grow nearer to her core. At first, it was just delicate kisses over her flesh with him still caressing over her thighs. In this position she could comfortably watch him when his tongue pressed out to drag a line down over the length of her sex. Involuntarily her hips arched up toward him and he hummed out. Each kiss over her body grew stronger with the flicks of his tongue following suit. When he started suckling at her flesh, it made her moan out. Grasping tightly to the comforter beneath her, she balled the material up and cooed. Everything felt different with Negan’s short beard against her flesh, but it was a feeling that she very much enjoyed. This was a strong contrast from what she was used to with Joel. Negan seemed so focused and delicate. Working her up to feeling good and Joel was rough and eager to get her body worked up immediately.
Lifting her head, she watched Negan as he pleasured her. It seemed like he was enjoying it with the faint moans vibrating against her flesh. Crying out his name, she felt the strong strokes of his tongue over her sensitive bundle of nerves before it was followed by a slurping sound. As Negan’s right hand found its way between her thighs, she mewled out when his fingers thrust back into her body. With his long slender digits pumping away inside of her damp heat and his mouth focusing on matching that pleasure she felt the room spinning around her.
Licking her lips, she muttered his name feeling Negan hitting that same spot that he had been doing before. Starting to shake against him had him humming out. A euphoric sensation started building at the pit of her stomach with the way he was pleasuring her.
“Negan,” she stammered his name with his moan following and his fingers pulling from her body. It had her squeezing so tightly to the comforter that her knuckles were changing color. At the rate her heart was pounding in her chest she knew that this orgasm was harder than the one she had at the restaurant. Instead of stopping, Negan just buried his head back between her thighs to continue pleasuring her and it had her rocking her hips against his movements. “Fuck Negan…”
“Just enjoy it,” Negan instructed slurring against her flesh going back to work. Dropping one of her hands down, she sank it into his hair and panted. It had been so long since someone focused on her like this and it was driving her mad with desire for Negan.
That was until she heard the sound of something that had even Negan lifting his head up from where he was between her thighs. Dragging his thumb over his bottom lip, Negan cleared his throat and turned to look at her, “Is someone here?”
“The house is just noisy,” she tried to insist only to hear footsteps coming up the stairs. Panicked, she started tugging at the comforters and sheets. Pushing at Negan’s head she had him crawling beneath the material resting his head against her lower abdomen. Just in time she managed to get the blankets to her shoulders when her door pushed open revealing Elizabeth at the door. “Elizabeth. What are you doing here?”
“Sorry mom, I just…” Elizabeth paused holding tightly to the door seeing that her mother looked different. “I was at my friend’s house, but there was a game that I wanted to grab for us to play. It’s in my room. I didn’t want you to think that someone was breaking in or anything.”
“Oh, okay,” Y/N didn’t know how to react. Truthfully? She was freaking the fuck out on the inside. This was never a place she wanted to find herself in around her children.
“Mom,” Elizabeth tipped her head to the side, her dark eyes narrowing. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine,” Y/N alerted her daughter desperately wanting her to leave the room. Discomfort flooded her veins knowing that underneath the blanket and sheet was a completely naked Negan. Hiding him was hard because Negan was a big guy, but she just hoped that Elizabeth didn’t catch on. “Have a good night honey.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Elizabeth was unsure of how to respond to the way her mother was acting. Right now Y/N wished that her daughter wasn’t so perceptive.
“Nothing is wrong. I’m just…really tired,” Y/N lied knowing that by the expression over her daughter’s face that Elizabeth was suspicious. “Just call me in the morning and tell me how everything was. Okay?”
“You have someone in there with you, don’t you?” Elizabeth stepped forward immediately making things all the more awkward. Negan buried his nose in against her abdomen trying to remain still, but Elizabeth wasn’t dumb. “I don’t understand. Who are you with? I know it’s not dad because I just saw him right before I came here.”
“Honey, this isn’t really the best time to be questioning things,” Y/N attempted to stop her daughter from the upcoming lecture that she knew was coming. Elizabeth’s eyes fell to the clothes that were at the center of the room and Y/N started to panic. “I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t think you’d be home. And I just…”
“After the other night with the four of us as a family, you’re doing this?” Elizabeth snapped at her mother causing Y/N to tense up. “I thought we were working on becoming a family again. The four of us. Yet, you’re here sleeping with someone other than dad?”
“Can you give me a few minutes and then we can talk? Because this is starting to feel really inappropriate,” Y/N asked of her daughter who simply folder her arms out in front of her chest with her chocolate brown eyes giving Y/N what looked like a death glare. “I don’t feel like that’s fair Elizabeth. Your dad dated someone else for years and you didn’t act like this. Just because your dad is single right now doesn’t mean…”
“You’re not dad,” Elizabeth interrupted her mother and it had a warmth flooding throughout Y/N’s veins. It was both demeaning that her daughter was lecturing her about having a life outside of Joel and embarrassing that Negan was in here to hear it all. “I know how you’ve felt about dad for a very long time. After everything with dad trying, inviting you over to the event…you’re doing this to him? To us?”
“I’m not cheating on your father Elizabeth,” Y/N pled with her daughter not understanding why it was leading to this. “We’ve been divorced for three years and separated for four. Your father had plenty of time to make a move and he didn’t. We’re not together Elizabeth and me finding comfort with someone else isn’t me trying to hurt you. Or anyone for that matter.”
“Who is it?” Elizabeth seemed furious eyeballing the bed to look over the shape that was beneath the blankets. “Is it Uncle Tommy? He’s been acting really weird and it would explain why he is running away at all hours of the night.”
“I adopted your Uncle Tommy when I was eighteen. Do you know how weird that would be?” Y/N scoffed, pulling the comforter in closer to her body feeling even more uneasy with Elizabeth stepping toward the bed. “Please honey, just give me a minute to get dressed and come out to talk to you.”
“I’m not a baby mom. I’m seventeen. Come on Uncle Tommy,” Elizabeth demanded who she assumed to be with her mom to come out. “Show yourself.”
“It’s not your Uncle Tommy! And I don’t even understand why you would begin to think that I have anything going on with him,” Y/N was disgusted at the idea of just seeing Tommy in that way because to her he was almost like her own child.
“Who else do you know that’s a man,” Elizabeth was furious in the way that she was talking. “Tommy, show your face before I start hitting.”
“Please don’t start hitting,” a rumble of a voice muttered from beneath the blankets and it shocked Elizabeth who stumbled back realizing that the voice was in fact not Uncle Tommy. “I’ll show my face if you promise not to start hitting.”
Carefully adjusting his body, Negan pulled the blankets and the sheets down far enough to reveal his head and his shoulders to Y/N’s daughter after he crawled up beside Y/N on the bed. Negan’s hair was a mess with a flush of color in his face. Curling his fingers tighter around the comforter, Negan cleared his throat and nodded his head. Looking to Y/N, Negan knew that there was fear in her eyes when Elizabeth saw what she did.
“Hello,” Negan broke the silence feigning a smile, his dimples big when the color drained completely from Elizabeth’s face seeing her celebrity crush there before her in her mother’s bed. “It’s nice to meet you Elizabeth, I heard a lot about you. All good things. Your mother loves you very much.”
“You’re fucking Negan Smith? How is Negan Smith even here right now?” Elizabeth snapped noticing the lost expression flooding into her mother’s features. It made things weird because Elizabeth wasn’t even acknowledging what Negan had said to her. “I have to be dreaming. This can’t be real because there is no logical explanation that explains why Negan Smith is in your bedroom right now.”
“I can answer a few of those,” Negan somewhat waved his hand about drawing Elizabeth’s attention back to him. “We’re not necessarily…fucking.”
Negan looked to see that Y/N buried herself under the covers to hide her embarrassment from her daughter and it had her groaning out, “I’m in this bedroom because I came home to visit my mother for the holidays. I ran into your mother the other day and we agreed to have dinner. You’re not dreaming and I’m very sorry this is the way that we met. I wanted to meet you at some point soon, but this really wasn’t the way that I was expecting.”
“I don’t even know what to say,” Elizabeth was embarrassed with having her meltdown in front of the town celebrity who was attempting to be exceedingly kind to her. “You slept with Negan Smith knowing how I felt about things? Do you know how weird that’s going to be telling people considering all my friends know that I have the biggest crush on him? You never even acted like you felt a certain way toward him mom.”
“Again, I hate to speak for your mother,” Negan began, his hazel eyes empathetic drawing Elizabeth to look to him “But your mother and I dated long before her and your father did. Kind of. So I don’t think she did this to make you feel bad. It’s just we had something between us when we were younger. And she probably didn’t want to tell you about it because she was married to your father and didn’t want to make things weird. I’m also very honored that I’m your celebrity crush, but you are…kind of too young for me honey. And considering how I feel about your mother…”
“How do you feel about my mother?” Elizabeth blurt out and Negan’s hazel eyes got wide. Looking to Y/N who lowered the blankets slightly to him, Negan simply shrugged and cleared his throat.
“I don’t really know yet. I just know that I spent most of my early life in love with your mother. I went a lot of years without her in my life and now that I’m here for the holiday I’d like to spend as much time as I can with her,” Negan was honest with Elizabeth who seemed to be between the stages of shocked, embarrassed and angry all at the same time. “I’d also like to continue to be in your mother’s life somehow because I missed her.”
“How? You’re a famous baseball player,” Elizabeth reminded Negan who gave a simple nod and then tipped his head from side to side.
“Yes and no. I have one more season left,” Negan declared, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I’m really sorry if finding us here like this upset you, but I promise you this wasn’t anything negative or of ill intent. I care about your mother and I’d like to be able to talk to you in better situations so we can get to know one another better.”
“Elizabeth!” someone was calling out from downstairs and Y/N assumed that it was her friend that she had come with. Hopefully that friend didn’t follow her upstairs.
“I’ll be right down,” Elizabeth called out, a rush of heat flooding into her tanned flesh. It looked like there was so much she wanted to say but didn’t know what to say. Swallowing down hard, Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and took a step back. “Whatever this is, I’ll come back tomorrow and we can talk about it. Preferably with you two dressed.”
“I don’t know if he will still be here tomorrow morning,” Y/N reasoned with her daughter, but Negan held his hand out and nodded.
“I’ll stay,” Negan agreed to the talk that Elizabeth asked for. “We can talk about whatever you want tomorrow. I promise.”
“Yeah,” Elizabeth looked between both her mother and Negan, her eyes forcing themselves to look down at the ground. “I’m sorry for barging in. If I would have known you were with someone, I would have never done that.”
And with that, Elizabeth backstepped out of the bedroom and quickly took off down the stairs. When they heard the door open and shut, Y/N dropped her head back. An overwhelmed sound followed and she looked to Negan with pure embarrassment flooding her features.
“I am so sorry,” she apologized to Negan who laid in beside her looking up at the ceiling. “That had to be so weird and I would completely understand if you wanted to leave right now. I will come up with a good excuse for things tomorrow and…”
“I don’t want to leave,” Negan interrupted her, the lines in his forehead growing as he spoke. “Unless you want me to leave?”
“God no,” she shook her head, sliding in beside Negan with their heads touching. Her breathing was loud and she thought about the things that her daughter said. “Am I a bad mom for not telling her about us when we were younger?”
“Why would that make you a bad mom?” Negan’s nose wrinkled. “Mothers and fathers don’t tell their children about the people that they screwed around with before…or after their parents. She’ll be jealous and maybe embarrassed for a while, but she will understand it eventually.”
“You didn’t sign up for this,” she pointed out to Negan who simply shrugged. This was the last way she would have liked Elizabeth and Negan to meet.
“Life is always throwing surprises at you,” Negan suggested reaching for her to allow her to rest her head over the center of his chest to get comfortable. “I can tell that she’s daddy’s little girl by the way that she talks.”
“Yeah. The children both love him,” she stated with a long sigh cuddling her face in against Negan’s chest. “And I don’t mind that they love him. It’s better that they do. Joel is a good father. He always was. He loved them a lot. I let them have that. They just got really mad at me when we got separated. When Joel started dating someone they didn’t put up much of a fight. Kind of just dealt with it. Yet the moment I might be with someone else…”
“Explosion of emotions,” Negan teased releasing a long exhale with his fingers caressing over her shoulders. “Who was Joel dating?”
“Tess Servopoulos,” she stated hearing Negan choke out at her answer. “You remember her?”
“Scary Tess?” Negan’s eyebrows were arched as he looked toward Y/N. “Ball busting Tess? The girl that was a year or two older than us that had no problem kicking a guy in the balls if he looked at her the wrong way?”
“Might have been before my time,” she was amused at Negan’s reaction to who Joel was dating. “You didn’t like her?”
“I never pissed her off, so she was fine with me,” Negan informed her with a dramatic expression and he shook his head. “Joel still has his balls after they broke up? That woman had some serious rage issues when we were younger. If I was putting together a hit team, I think I would have gotten her on my team.”
“She didn’t seem that bad,” Y/N laughed at how dramatic Negan was being with the way he was talking. “Joel really liked her. At least I thought they did when they were together.”
“That is so hard to picture because Joel hated her when we were in high school,” Negan thought back realizing that Y/N was younger than him and Joel. “Fuck. I can’t believe that Joel dated scary Tess. I almost want to ask him about it.”
“I’m going to be getting an earful eventually about what Elizabeth saw here tonight from him. So maybe if you are still around you can talk to him then,” she was being sarcastic as her fingers played with the dark curls of hair over Negan’s chest. “If I were you, I’d probably run right now. I have so much baggage and you’ve already seen parts of it.”
“I like your parts,” Negan spoke softly, letting out a boisterous laugh when she poked him in the side. “But it’s a good thing you aren’t me because I don’t wanna run away. I’m willing to deal with what I have to in order to be around you again.”
“You are something else,” she found herself in awe of him, bracing her hand over his chest so she could balance herself enough to lean in over Negan to meet him in a lingering kiss between the two of them. “Well now that the moment we were building up to is over, I have some pie that I made earlier. Would you like to have some?”
“I was just eating some pie,” Negan snickered only to have her playfully hit him in the stomach again. His raspy laugh grew louder this time and he shook his head. “Yes, I would love some of the pie that you made.”
Carefully getting up from the bed, Negan watched her head over toward her dresser to grab a t-shirt and some pajama pants. Pulling on his black boxer briefs, Negan then reached for his dress shirt to pull it over his arms. Leaving it unbuttoned, he stopped at the bottom of the bed hearing her huff when she turned to face him.
“It’s not fair, how are you still so fucking hot like that?” she questioned getting another laugh from Negan who reached for her to wrap her up in his arms. “It’s like, you’re even more fuckable like that.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Negan hummed kissing her multiple times. Leaning back, his eyes locked with hers and he made an overwhelmed expression. “I think your daughter walking in on us might have been worse than my father walking in on us that one time. I was scared she was about to start beating the shit outta me.”
“I could honestly see it,” she agreed with Negan, patting him at the center of his chest. Leading him down to the kitchen, she watched as he walked over toward the corner of the cabinets where Joel had been earlier bracing his hands on the counter. “What kind of pie would you like? I have eggnog pumpkin, pecan, chocolate silk and cinnamon apple.”
“Why don’t you get a piece of each and we will share them all?” Negan suggested with her giving him an impressed expression. Doing what he asked, she warmed the ones that were necessary and laid them out across the island in her kitchen. Grabbing both of them some milk and forks, she moved in beside Negan and saw him eyeing over the pies. “I love that you still bake. We started that together.”
“I know,” she saw him take some of the cinnamon apple pie, humming out when he swallowed it down and gave a thumbs up. “Do you still bake?”
“Fuck yeah I do. I’m an amazing cook and baker,” Negan didn’t shy from showing off when he went for the eggnog pumpkin pie next. “We should bake something together. The two of us. Not that you need any more sweets with all that you have, but I think that would be fun.”
“If you want to,” she wasn’t going to deny him the opportunity to cook something with her. She liked spending time with him and she wasn’t ready to stop yet. Grabbing some of the pumpkin for herself, she saw Negan take a bite of the pecan. “What do you like best so far?”
Considering his answer, Negan went for a larger bite of the chocolate silk. Holding it up to her lips, he allowed her to take the bite. A surprised sound fell from her lips when Negan’s lips covered hers, his tongue forcefully brushing out against hers.
“Wow,” she snickered watching him wipe his thumb across his bottom lip to collect the remainder of the pie from his lips. “That was different.”
“Chocolate silk,” Negan pointed to the piece of pie that was before her and it had her face flushing over with warmth. Nudging her playfully with his hip, Negan gave her a wink and then went for another bite of the chocolate silk. “You’re cute. You know that?”
“It’s been a long time since someone called me cute,” she retorted with Negan taking a sip of his milk. “But thank you. You’re pretty cute too.”
“I know,” Negan snorted after it made her laugh. Things were much more relaxed with Negan than she was used to. Here he was standing almost completely shirtless at the center of her kitchen in his boxer briefs and they were just eating sweets together. “This has been an interesting night. It went a way I didn’t think it would, but I’ve enjoyed it.”
“I feel like you’re just trying to be nice,” she suggested assuming things had to be awkward from the start. “You started the night off with my angry ex-husband and then ended it with my daughter. If anything, this night has been awkward at best.”
“I can handle Joel. I always could. And I could also handle your daughter who has a crush on me,” Negan stressed, placing his hand in over the center of his chest after setting his milk back down on the counter. “I have had lots of fun tonight. And not just because we fucked around. The night is still young though and I did promise your daughter that I would be here tomorrow. So, we have a lot of the night left together.”
“I’m just waiting for my son to make an appearance now,” she joked, poking at the pie that was in front of her.
“And if that happens, I’ll happily meet your son,” Negan snickered, moving forward to nuzzle his nose in against the side of her neck before playfully pressing kisses against her flesh. “I like kids. I always wanted kids. Life just didn’t work out for me the way I planned.”
Turning toward Negan after setting her fork down, she felt his hands settling in over her hips. Stroking her fingers over his exposed chest had her questioning things. This was all really too good to be true. Everything just felt…relaxed and nice. It wasn’t something that she was used to. At least not for a very long time.
“Let’s clean this up and make some cupcakes?” Negan suggested with a huff, tipping down to deposit another kiss over her forehead. Sliding his hands up her body, he cupped her face in his rough palms and led her to stare into his hazel eyes. “I need you to loosen up and relax. We’re here. I’m happy to be here. So let’s keep taking a trip down memory fucking lane. Let’s bake some cupcakes. And talk.”
“If that’s what you want to do,” she wasn’t going to fight him on this whole thing. Spending time with him sounded nice. It was the most laid back things had been in her life for a long time. And one thing she wasn’t feeling was lonely. Which was a nice thing. After giving her a wink, Negan collected the dishes that they had and headed over toward the sink. Without having to be asked, Negan was doing the dishes. Cleaning them and then putting them into the dishwasher. That alone was a huge difference between Negan and Joel. In all her years being with Joel, Joel was never the type to immediately clean up and if he did the dishes, it was only because she nagged him long enough to do it. “What kind of cupcakes do you want?”
“You have me in a chocolate mood,” Negan responded with a pondering expression when he looked over his shoulder at her. Turning on his heel, he braced his hands against the counter stretching out his lengthy abdomen leaving her a nice view of the v-line that led to the top of his boxer briefs. “Do you have candy canes?”
“Of course,” she moved around the kitchen to pull out the box of candy canes that she had bought not long before. Extending his hand out, Negan grabbed the box and gave her a thumbs up. “Chocolate cupcakes with a peppermint frosting?”
“Right up my alley,” Negan gave her a wink, setting the box down. Amusement flooded her veins seeing Negan opening the cabinets to see what was where. Instead of just asking, he was getting comfortable with her kitchen and it charmed her. As he set out what they needed with utensils and bowls, she went for the ingredients that they would need from the pantry and refrigerator. “What’s this?”
“What’s what?” she looked over her shoulder to see that Negan was looking down at the gingerbread family that she had done with Joel and the children. “Oh, we did that the other day when I made fresh gingerbread cookies. Elizabeth wanted us to keep it. So it’s being displayed in the kitchen.”
“The sad thing is that I immediately knew this was Joel. His style hasn’t changed much since high school,” Negan snickered, waving his finger about at the gingerbread cookie that Joel had made. Stealing one final glance, Negan went back to preparing things. When they both returned to the island in her kitchen, she gave him a once over and smirked. “What?”
“I’m just not used to this whole thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do this with someone,” she mused working with Negan to grab what they would need for the cupcakes first. Heading over to the stove, she turned it on and came back to see Negan was already preparing the ingredients. “My children like to help with the decorating, but never the baking process. Well, they did when they were children. But that’s it really.”
“Tell me about them,” Negan directed her to talk about her family and he saw her take a moment to think about things.
“Well, you met Elizabeth tonight. Daddy’s little girl to the core. Joel has called her Ellie her whole life, but she has gotten to the age where she wants to be called Liz. She plays softball at her school. She’s got a hell of a throw on her. She likes the girly things, but she’s also into sports and video games,” she rambled on about her daughter and Negan would glance over at her every so often to show that he was listening while they worked together. “She’s also incredibly smart. Way smarter than me and her father ever were. I see her going places. I worry sometimes about her since she’s so close to the age I was when I got pregnant, but she’s really not like that. She has crushes, but no boyfriend or anything. I think her future means more to her. And she’s a really good sister to her little brother. Peter is a typical teenage boy. Loves video games, sports, being silly. He plays baseball too. I think it’s more so to get his father’s attention, but he’s trying. And he’s attempting to learn the guitar too like Joel.”
“So Ellie is Joel’s favorite,” Negan commented which had her shaking her head. “It sounds like it.”
“I don’t know if she’s Joel’s favorite. I think she just has a strong bond with him since she was his first,” she thought aloud hating to think that Joel had a favorite. “Peter is just desperate for something to cling onto with his dad. We split when Peter was nine and he misses the family aspect of things. Joel is always so busy with things that Peter doesn’t really get the attention that he wants.”
“And why did the two of you get divorced?” Negan was curious throwing caution to the wind since she might get upset with that question. “You don’t have to answer that question.”
“Uh, you’re fine,” she felt heat flooding into her face. There was the thought that she shouldn’t focus so much on Joel, but Negan seemed to be genuinely curious. “I’d love to blame one thing, but I don’t know if I can. Joel’s parents died right after graduation for him. Immediately Tommy was the thing that he worried about. He made the decision to stay home and take care of Tommy instead of letting him go into foster care. Which meant he had to give up his full ride to school on that scholarship. It meant he gave up focusing on football and music. Which you know how much those two things meant to him.”
“I think everyone did,” Negan agreed with her from what he remembered when they were younger. Joel was so good at football that many of the people in town thought he would become a big football player. “I think he always planned to get famous with football so he could become a singer. Which I think was his real passion. Unless I was wrong.”
“I think he loved them both,” Y/N didn’t know if he loved one or the other more. The music just stuck with him more. “I think he was happy he had two things he was good at. That way he always had a fallback.”
Talking about Joel would have probably pissed Joel off. Especially since he seemed so irritated about her spending time with Negan.
“Joel adopted Tommy. Took on his father’s company and started working immediately. And then Elizabeth happened. It wasn’t on purpose. I was taking the pill, but it just happened. My parents wanted me to get an abortion because they expected more from me, but I couldn’t. They kicked me out and wanted nothing to do with me. So that was another person that Joel had to take into his home. I think he figured once Tommy was eighteen, he would be able to have the chance to finally make something of himself. I just don’t think he thought he would be a father by then. Everything was really good. I adopted Tommy too. We were a family. It was rough, but we were doing it. By the time Tommy turned eighteen, I was pregnant with Peter and I think life just got so busy. Tommy wanted to go off into the army because he wanted to change the world. It was a lot of stress. Joel tried to go to a community college, but it just didn’t work. So he kept being a contractor running his father’s business.”
Biting down on her bottom lip, she paused and noticed that Negan looked to her wondering if she was okay, “I think I was just the only one that realized life wasn’t going to be what I wanted it to be. I gave up the things I wanted, he did the same, but I adjusted to it and he didn’t. I got a degree, accepted the first job that would take me. Money was money. Joel was miserable. He knew what he was capable of having and life didn’t allow him that. So we fought. A lot. I was happy. He wasn’t in the last few years. And it wore pretty heavy on me. I think the more he let it linger, the more he realized what he lost. I think he was really happy for a while. It’s just toward the end of our marriage that he started showing signs of being miserable. At least, I think that’s what it was.”
“You had big dreams too though,” Negan reminded her of what she wanted when she was younger noticing that she didn’t seem to focus on herself as much as she did Joel. “You wanted to travel. I remember you always had your camera out and you wanted to be a journalist. More than anything you wanted out of here. So if anyone understood what he was going through, it was you.”
“I suppose so,” she didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t wrong. More than anything she dreamt of getting away from here when she was younger. She wanted to be more than what she was, but once she was a mother she had to change her way of thinking. “Joel was a really good father throughout though. He kept that he was miserable from the children really good.”
“Hmm…” Negan breathed out loudly, reaching for the mixer once they had put all the ingredients together to make the chocolate cupcakes. “I take it sex wasn’t very good with Joel?”
“Negan,” she laughed with him tipping his head to the side.
“I’m just saying. You seemed really shocked by the way I could make you orgasm tonight which tells me that you’ve never orgasmed like that before,” Negan recalled back to the two previous moments earlier tonight. “It’s okay if Joel wasn’t good at sex.”
“Joel was good at sex,” she corrected Negan who smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “The orgasms were good, but that…”
“You didn’t know you were a squirter,” Negan blurt out having her chuckle at his outwardness. “It takes time and dedication. Focus to make a girl squirt and not all of them do. Some of them are scared to do it because they think it’s something bad, but it’s not.”
“I can see the ego never left you,” she smacked Negan on the ass when he turned on the mixer. Moving around him, she got what they needed for the frosting and started to prepare what she could now. Once he was done, Negan helped her lay out the cupcake wrappers before she poured in the mixture. “What about your life? You’ve gotten to see the world. What was it like? As exciting as we pictured when we were kids?”
“It depends,” Negan answered with a sigh. “If Lucille was with me, it was nice. If I was alone, it was lonely. And it’s not really like I could enjoy it. I was working when I was travelling. So a lot of the world that I saw was hotels and flying.”
“Yeah, but I saw from the stuff Elizabeth would pull up that you got that car that you dreamt of having since we were kids. Lots of cars. A big house and everything you could ever dream of,” she elbowed him playfully thinking that those were things he would be proud of. Instead, Negan swallowed hard and looked down at her with sadness in his eyes. “All the money in the world can’t be too bad.”
“All the money in the world and I still couldn’t save my wife from dying of cancer,” Negan countered having the color drain from her face realizing what she said was incredibly awful when he put it that way. “I’m not trying to be a dick with that answer. I’m sorry if it came out that way, I just…what good is money if you lose the love of your life anyways? I have all the money I could ever want, but no one to spend it with. You can’t imagine the kind of loneliness…” Negan paused, his thick eyebrows furrowing with a shake of his head. “Never mind. You understand the loneliness just fine. Just a different kind. I’m sorry for that.”
“Broken recognizes broken I guess,” she breathed out, grabbing the cupcakes to put them in the oven. Setting the timer, she turned to him and could see that he was going through so many emotions just considering what to say next. “I’m sorry I said that Negan. It’s just when you’re one of the little people, the idea of having lots of money and getting to do anything sounds really good.”
“I understand that. I’m sorry,” Negan cleared his throat and nodded his head. His lips parted and he shrugged his shoulders. “Just from where I’m standing, I think Joel is a moron. Because more than anything, Lucille and I would have loved to have children. We tried, but she was sick for a long time. And we never had any. So it’s crazy to me. I would have loved having his life. He has everything I don’t.”
“Had. Not has,” she corrected his statement feeling a sense of sadness behind it. “I wasn’t what he wanted.”
“He’s an idiot,” Negan noted, stepping forward to palm in over the side of her face. “He had everything I wanted when I was younger and he let it slip through his fingers.”
A tremoring exhale fell from her lips when Negan lowered down again to bring their lips together in what was a fervent kiss. His thumb swept over her jawline when they parted and he looked to the timer that she had set.
“Do you still have a camera?” Negan’s question surprised her and made her smile. “You do, don’t you?”
“I have one. It’s not the best considering my situation, but I take it with me to special events with the children. I just haven’t really played with it too much,” she responded with a shrug of her shoulders knowing that she used to carry a camera with her everywhere. “Why?”
“Go get it,” Negan instructed, moving over toward the other bowl that he had grabbed. “I’ll start the frosting. You go get the camera and come back down.”
“Fine,” she did as he told her, heading up the stairs and leaving him alone in the kitchen. Going to her room in search of her camera, she hoped that it was charged. When she found her camera bag, she pulled out the camera and headed downstairs with it. Turning it on, she was thankful when she saw that there was power to it and that she had a memory card. “Here it is.”
“Not too shabby,” Negan reached out for the camera to look it over. Adjusting a few things, Negan lifted the camera and took a photo of her causing her to groan out. “What?”
“I look like shit,” she frowned and he immediately shook his head. It felt strange having Negan taking photos of her. “I do.”
“You could never look like shit,” Negan avowed with a huff, allowing her to take the camera away from him. Wrinkling his nose, Negan gave a wink before going back to work on the frosting. Hearing the sound of the camera made him smile. Stealing a quick look at her, he could tell that she seemed happy while she started snapping photos of him. Stopping what he was doing, he turned toward her and rubbed his hands together. “I want you to start using that again. Whenever you can, take that camera out and take photos. That was the thing that made you so happy when we were younger. Writing and taking photos. Start doing the things that make you happy.”
“Smile for me,” she ordered of him, lifting her camera up. Expectantly waiting for him Negan flashed her one of the biggest, cheesiest smiles that he could give. Taking the photo had her giggling, but she immediately shook her head afterwards. “A real smile.”
“What? That wasn’t real enough for you,” Negan snickered, stepping forward to loosely hook his arm around her waist to pull her in against him. “I thought you liked me as I was. Cute. Charming. Silly. That was a genuine smile.”
“You’re right, you are cute all the time,” she agreed with him, keeping a tight hold of her camera in one hand. With the other she dragged her thumb across Negan’s bottom lip. Kissing at the pad of her finger had her breathing loudly. “I think you know what your smile is capable of though.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re capable of,” Negan slurred with a long sigh, his eyes narrowing when he stepped back. Doing as she asked of him originally, he allowed her to take a photo, but then he got serious. And even though he wasn’t smiling, she seemed to enjoy getting a few close up photos of him. Resting at the corner of the kitchen cabinets, Negan stretched his hands out and placed them on the counter. Modeling for her was no big deal. He was used to people taking photos of him. “I know you had to change your life and alter what your childhood dreams were. But that didn’t mean you had to give up the things that made you happy. You should have kept writing and taking photos.”
“I wish it was that easy,” she stammered, lowering the camera down. Sure, it sounded good, but life never really gave her that chance.
“It is that easy,” Negan contended, biting down on his bottom lip. The lines in his forehead grew with him shaking his head. “Someone in your life should have been here telling you all along that you needed to have things that made you happy. They should have been cheering you on to do these things. Telling you to make time for yourself as well as others.”
“You know,” she began, stuttering back on her words when she lowered the camera down completely. Guilt started eating away at her with a lump growing in her throat. “You really shouldn’t be as nice to me as you are being Negan. I don’t deserve it. You know that, right?”
“Says who?” Negan tipped his head to the side, waiting on her answer.
“You don’t have to keep acting like this. I fucked up when I did what I did. I ruined our friendship all those years ago. I broke your heart,” she recollected provoking a long sigh from him. Setting her camera aside, she realized her thoughts were eating away at her. After everything he said to her at the sports bar, she couldn’t help but think she was a piece of shit for how things went down. “You shouldn’t be this good to me with what I did to you.”
“Apparently I missed the rulebook I guess,” Negan shrugged, pushing forward to move before her. Looking up at him with big eyes, she felt sad. Sad to know that he carried all those negative and hurt feelings with him for so long. Shuddering, she looked down to see that Negan’s fingers were hooking with hers when he reached out for them. “Here’s the thing. You feel fucking guilty. And I understand that. But I wouldn’t give up the life that I was given with Lucille. I loved her, very fucking much.”
“I know,” she breathed, squeezing her fingers firmly around his. Closing the distance between them, Negan wanted her to keep her eyes on his.
“You can’t blame yourself for something that was meant to happen. I loved my wife. I wish I could have had more time with her, but the world didn’t allow me that. And I know that you would never give up the life that you had with your children,” Negan emphasized his words showing her that he understood that their lives went in different ways. “What was meant to happen, did. I can’t be mad at that.”
“But I should have talked to you. You were the biggest part of my life and I just…” she started, but Negan hushed her, lowering his head down to press his forehead against hers.
“Listen. I don’t care about the past. We both made mistakes,” Negan admitted, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. “I just know how miserable I was without you in my life. I know I should have been here for you every step of the way. You were part of what made me whole. Part of what made me, me. What happened between us was just as much my fault as it was yours. But what I know? I don’t want to lose you from my life again.”
Everything he said took her breath away. In only a few hours, it felt like they were back to what they were when they were younger. And she still didn’t think she deserved that, but Negan didn’t seem to care. Hovering his lips over hers, it felt like he was about to kiss her again but was interrupted by the sound of the timer going off for the cupcakes.
“Fuck,” Negan hummed, looking toward the stove. Motioning him to wait, she grabbed something to get the cupcakes out of the oven. Setting them out to cool, she turned the oven off and returned back to Negan.
Grabbing the sides of his opened button down, she tugged slightly at them getting a smile over his handsome lips. And there were those gorgeous dimples that got her every time. Using her strength, she lowered him down to her to bring his lips to hers. Shivers ran down her spine with Negan laughing against her lips. Maybe she should have stopped things. Hell, this was just their first day back to spending time together, but it didn’t matter. Right now, everything felt right in the world with him kissing her. It had been a long time since she felt this good.
“Follow me,” Negan instructed, moving around her keeping his fingers linked with hers. Heading for the stairs had a breath catching in her throat.
“What about the cupcakes?” she knew that they were right in the middle of making them. Her heart skipped a beat when Negan looked back at her with an amused smirk.
“They need time to cool anyways,” Negan hushed her taking her into her bedroom. Closing the door, Negan locked it behind him this time while she stood waiting. Turning on his heel, Negan started to shimmy out of the shirt that he was wearing. “Just so no one can surprise us this time.”
Breathing loudly, she watched as the material dropped to Negan’s wrists. Unhurriedly, he got the shirt off and dropped it to the ground. Stepping forward, Negan reached for the bottom of the t-shirt she was wearing. Noticing the way she grew nervous made him smile.
“Everything will be okay,” Negan promised her, starting to lift the material. Once it got right under her breasts, she shakily lifted her arms to let him pull it from her. Dropping her t-shirt beside them on the floor, Negan dragged his tongue out across his bottom lip. Stealing another glance at her naked form took his breath away. “I think you’re perfect.”
Words were hard to form. The warmth of Negan’s fingertips started at her lower abdomen. His caress was slow, building up the sensation as they traced up over her ribs. Just the way Negan looked at her made her feel like the only person in the world. It was obvious what he was doing to her. There was no hiding it from him.
“Now you’re the one shaking,” Negan pointed out, closing the distance between them. Warmth radiated from his body before hers. Curling his arm around her, Negan’s fingers settled at the small of her back tracing over her skin. With how close they were she felt the curls of hair over his chest tickling at her flesh.
Caressing up over her back, between her shoulders and down again, Negan let his fingers hook into her panties. Pushing them down, he let them drop to her ankles. Covering her bottom with the warmth of his hands, he tested the flesh in his palms and hummed out. It had her eyelashes fluttering to a close, her lips parting and a soft sight escaped them.
Using his strength, Negan picked her up in his arms and carried her over toward the center of the bed. Laying her down, he was careful in the way he moved her. Watching his every movement, her pupils dilated with desire with him pushing his fingers into the hemline of his boxer briefs. Getting the material down his body had her lips parting. Even though she knew his body from when they were younger, it was so much different now. Crawling in over her, Negan heard the nervous sound that fell from her parted lips.
“You don’t have to be nervous with me,” Negan assured her, resting himself comfortably between her thighs. Tracing his rough fingertips over her shoulders had a smile tugging at his handsome features. Following his finger’s movements, Negan deposited soft, gentle kisses over her shoulder toward her collar bone. The sound of her breathing grew louder with his kisses sliding in over her neck and then over her jawline. Right now his aim was to make her feel comfortable. Meeting her bottom lip, Negan pressed delicate kisses over it. It had her eyes slamming shut with a whimper falling from her throat. Bracing himself on his arms as they rest at her sides, Negan’s kisses were passionate and focused. Meticulous in the way he was comforting her. “I would never hurt you.”
“Negan,” she pressed her hand in over the center of his chest suddenly feeling very self-conscious about herself. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so honest, but she felt like this needed to be put out there. “I’ve only been with Joel. I might not be any good at this because he’s the only man I’ve been with.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” he interrupted with another charming smile, trying to calm her instead of having her panic. “I don’t care how many people you’ve been with. I know how I feel about you. All I need to know is that you want this.”
“I do,” she whispered without second guessing things. More than anything she knew in that moment that she wanted to be with him. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Nothing with you could disappoint me,” Negan professed, once again taking her breath away. Just with his words alone he had her hooked. Starting to press kisses over her jawline, Negan knew that he wanted to focus on her. Relax her enough so she could stop worrying about things. Gradually his kisses led to her lips. Each caress of his lips over hers was filled with so much passion behind it that it had her pulse leaping in her throat. Soft bucking motions of his hips against hers had her tremoring beneath him. “I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember.”
Stroking her hand down over the side of Negan’s face had his long eyelashes fluttering to a close. Just having her touch him with that tenderness could affect him that much. Nibbling at her bottom lip, Negan balanced his weight on his left arm. Dropping his right hand, he palmed in over her warmth triggering a moan to fall from her. Caressing at her body, Negan wanted to make sure that she was still okay with this before reaching between them.
Whimpering out, she felt the tip of his manhood at her entrance. Instead of rushing it, Negan got comfortable again over her. Hooking his fingers with hers, Negan pressed her left hand down against the bed. Locking their eyes, he wanted to watch everything when he pushed his hips forward. Tipping her head back, she purred out but didn’t close her eyes. She wanted to be connected with Negan in this moment. The expression he gave her as he slowly sank into her was unlike anything she had seen from him. They both moaned in unison with just that small amount of him entering her. Bracing himself, Negan knew that he was going to be a mess if he didn’t hold himself together.
Allowing her to get comfortable, Negan curled his hands under her shoulders bringing them closer. Starting to kiss her as he began to roll his hips, Negan took his time with her. Not wanting to rush this. This was a moment he waited most of his life for. He wanted it to last. He wanted to remember it. The way she looked. The way she felt. How she panted his name softly with every move he made.
This was all very romantic. Something she wouldn’t have imagined with Negan’s personality or the kind of man that he was, but she liked it. It was close contact. His chest pressed against hers. The base of his erection grinding against her clitoris adding to the friction of his thrusts. It was a full, stretching sensation that she enjoyed very much. Sinking her fingers into his damp hair, she loved the way he praised her and said exactly what she wanted to hear in a moment of being made love to.
Kissing him took away all the worries and the fears she had in that moment. What he was doing not only made her body feel good, but it made her mind feel that way too. Scratching lightly over his shoulders and down his back led to her fingers squeezing at his bottom. Having the muscles flexing and relaxing beneath her touch with every roll forward of his hips turned her on more than it should of.
“This is everything I’ve wanted for so fucking long,” Negan whispered, his lips hovering over hers. Muted moans were escaping him causing her to tremor beneath him. There was a fire building up inside of her with his steady movements. “You are so beautiful.”
Crying out, she kissed at Negan’s collarbone, nipping faintly at the skin with her hips arching up toward him. It surprised her how easily her body was reacting to this. Everything felt so good. Even before he started this she was sensitive from their earlier moments, so when her first orgasm hit her it didn’t surprise her how much it affected her body. Burying his head against the side of her neck, Negan moaned enjoying the way that she felt. Pressing her hand to his lower abdomen had him waiting for her, his breathing uneven.
“Are you okay?” Negan confirmed with her when she opened her eyes and caressed her palms up his long abdomen toward his chest.
“More than okay,” she alerted him, getting a weak smile from him. Every part of her was enjoying this. It was both physically and mentally rewarding.
Rolling onto his side, Negan brought her with him hooking her leg over his hip. Having him spooning her like this was so much more intimate than she thought tonight would be but she wasn’t complaining. This way she could kiss him and focus on him. Touch him and cherish the moment.
This time she reached between them to grab his rigid length in her grasp. Lifting her hips in closer to his, she led his body to hers. Sinking her hips down had her warmth taking him in. His lips parted, his hazel eyes dropping to look down to watch their bodies connecting.
Thrust after thrust felt incredible. Their breathing matched each other. Their hands caressing and touching each other’s bodies. This was about learning each other all over again. This time more than they had when they were younger.
“Negan,” she purred his name, pressing her forehead to his. Muted moans vibrated against her lips. It was a thrilling sensation with his fingers digging into her hips helping their movements. Kisses were pressed against her lips while Negan praised her again and again. It was everything someone would want for their first time with someone.
Pushing her hand slightly into Negan’s chest had him rolling onto his back with the pressure. With his body pulling from hers, it had her whimpering out with the aching emptiness that followed. Licking his lips, Negan watched her close as she crawled in over him. First her hands started at his hips, caressing up over them toward the center of his chest.
“You have no idea how many nights I dreamt about this when we were younger,” Negan slurred, wincing when her warmth hovered over his aching erection. “I feel like a teenage boy all over again.”
“Everything about you is perfect,” she assured him, lowering in closer to him with her mouth just hanging in over his. Leading his hand between them, she helped him lead his cock back to her body. Lowering her hips down had her sinking down over his length. Clutching tightly to Negan, her eyes slammed close and she tremored with the moan that followed from him. Pulling her hips forward and then dropping them back again had her cries growing louder and more frequent. More than anything she wanted this close contact with him. Negan’s mouth was peppering her neck with kisses, his hands caressing her body in awe. It was obvious that Negan cherished her body and it made her feel good in so many ways.
“Fuck,” Negan lifted his head watching her movements over him with the small amount of room that was left between their bodies.
“You feel so good inside of me,” she purred against his lips having him moan. Unlike Joel, Negan was a very verbal lover. His moans could be heard, he praised her with everything that she did. His hands caressed at her sides, over her bottom and up her back.
Hovering her lips over his, she enjoyed taking in the facial expressions he was making while she worked her hips over his length. Everything about this made her feel good and it wasn’t just about the sex. It was feeling seen. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.
Grunting out, Negan pulled himself up into a seated position, wrapping his arms around her waist to help bring her hips over him. His mouth pressed kisses at her jawline, nipping slightly at her skin. Moaning out, Negan enjoyed how her nails bit at his back not trying to hurt him, but to show how much she enjoyed what was happening.
“I’m going to come,” his groan vibrated against her lips leading her to use the strength she had to start riding him harder.
There was something in the way that Negan tipped his head back to look at her that absolutely took her breath away. Palming in over the side of her face, Negan brought her to kiss him. Her body was tremoring over him with her leading herself to another orgasm. Crying out against his lips, she felt him tensing beneath her, his moans letting her know his orgasm was approaching. Hearing Negan slur out her name had her eyes slamming shut. Winces escaped his throat with the throbbing of his cock inside of her, the twitching alerting her that his release followed soon after. Their movements continued through his orgasm, their eyes locked. Her body was weak, aching in the best of ways. By the grumble of his raspy moan and his head falling in against the side of her neck she knew that she had milked him completely of his orgasm. In his arms she stayed, liking the way it felt with Negan pressing kisses at the side of her neck. Cuddling her head in against his shoulder, she wrapped her arms tighter around him with their breathing still loud and uneven.
“You were worth every minute of the wait it took for us to get here,” Negan hummed, his head tipping back while she stroked her fingers through his damp, dark hair. It made her smile and they kissed a few times.
“That was a lot of minutes,” she pointed out tipping her head back to stare down at Negan who shook his head and smiled. “I’m not sure I was worth that.”
“You were,” Negan assured her, nipping at her bottom lip and dragging his tongue faintly against her flesh. “You’re perfect.”
Perfect was not something she would have used to describe herself, but she liked hearing it. For a while they laid in bed with her tracing out shapes over his chest and lower abdomen. Talking about things they still hadn’t caught up on. Something inside of her reminded her that so many people would have killed to be in the position she was in. Laying in the arms of Negan Smith. The big-time baseball player that so many people knew. But to her? This was the man that was her childhood best friend. The man that saw all of her and still remembered the little details. Things that people in her life now didn’t even know.
Everything about this was flawless. And she knew that. Negan made love to her. He made her feel special. And this was the most comfortable she had been with anyone in a very long time. The only problem was knowing that she was having these feelings about Negan while still having the feelings that she did for Joel. Then again, she felt pretty crazy thinking about Joel in a moment like this. Joel and Negan were so vastly different. Both perfect in their own ways. But she shouldn’t have been thinking about Joel right now. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from making comparisons between the two and that worried her.
----
Tags: @chainsawsangel @fancypeacepersona @violent-darkness @negansbestie @elegantfanficluv
@sanctuaryforthelost @dead-of-niight @dilfsandmartinis
#jeffrey dean morgan#negan#the walking dead#negan x reader#negan fanfiction#twd fanfiction#negan smut#negan x you#Negan Smith#The Last of Us#Pedro Pascal#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fanfiction#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#The Last of Us fanfiction#The Walking dead fanfiction#tlou fanfiction
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I know we want to move past all this craziness. And I agree we should. But I’ve seen comments regarding A and what damage she could possibly do that would warrant things like NDAs and appeasing responses from L and N. People thinking she has no power. And I happen to know of a situation that contradicts that idea.
In another fandom (I won’t name the fandom or the actor), a young actor was accused of… let’s say bad behavior of the criminal kind… by a woman he never even met. The story made its way around the internet. People caught onto it and jumped on the hate bandwagon. He lost his job on a popular show. His career is in the toilet. And his friends/costars abandoned him.
A lie travels around the world twice before the truth even gets up in the morning. Damage can be done. Can be irreversible. And when you love someone, you’ll do all you can to protect them. A (and other side characters) can threaten and be taken seriously. It’s not a leap.
I’m not saying for sure that’s what is happening here. I’m saying that people shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss the possible trouble one can cause.
This is a possibility that is very easily swept aside because people think it's too much effort or that this would never be a thing because XYZ.
Also, this is not saying for sure that's what's happening here, so before you get your thongs in a twist make sure you understand this is discussion on the idea surrounding an NDA being in place.
Let's get realistic here. People claiming Luke wouldn't be high profile enough to warrant an NDA for anything is just stupid. Non-disclosure agreements are commonplace - between civilians, businesses and clients, between celebrities and the list goes on.
If there was sensitive information, and it could ANYTHING, then a non-disclosure agreement could be handed out to protect said sensitive information.
You don't need to be Brad fucking Pitt to have an NDA.
What I believe we have seen over the summer when it comes to Luke is very much a contractual agreement of some sort. Nothing about what we saw screams hot boy summer 2.0.
You're also not going to tell me that he just said peace out to Nicola or vice versa after what we watched in Ireland and essentially the entire tour leading up to that.
Sorry. I will never believe that Luke has been with Antonia over a year or that Nicola is dating her friend Jake.
If there's proof of either of these things one day (and I'm talking actual romantic interactions in clear view of a camera, kissing, cuddling etc.) I will gladly go back and eat my words and admit I was wrong.
But I just don't think I am 🤷♀️
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The Princess - Bonus Ending
Full story! ♡
Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader
Genre: Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard.
Synopsis: You found the traitor.
Warnings: Death, Violence, very slight MxM, some descriptions of gore. ⚠️MNDI⚠️ If I missed anything then please let me know!
Word Count: 1.8k Words
A/N: Hehe surprise! An extra ending 🤭 I wanted to add this on in the actual fic, but I liked where it ended off too much. So I decided to make this into a bonus ending where you could read it if you want, or just ignore it if you don’t. Hope you enjoy this too!
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
It has been a little over a week since your kidnapping. Things also have finally gone back to normal.
Except…
“Joooooooonggiiiieee!!!!!”
The yell for the captain of ATZ can be heard throughout the entire mansion, along with the sound of stomping pretty pink high heels.
“Oh my.”
“Well aren’t you in trouble”
Soon the door to Hongjoongs office was bursted open revealing the little fireball of which they call ‘Their Princess.’
“Oh princess.. whats the matter??”
That question only made your frown grow and eyebrows furrow even more.
“You promised we’d finally go shopping today! You said you wanted to dress me up! I’ve been waiting in the living room for over an hour!”
“Oooohh good luck with that!”
“See ya later our troubled husband! Hope she goes easy on you!”
The boys in the room quickly scatter, but of course not before giving you a sweet kiss and a compliment to your pretty outfit.
“Oh darling.. I’m so sorry!! I got caught up with work! Things have gotten so hectic princess.. there are these idiots that are always giving us trouble! And just….” As he kept going trying to give you reasons he notices your expression hasn’t changed at all, which makes him sigh.
Ever since your kidnapping, your husbands have become too anxious. So now they can’t even put their trust into any new body guards. Especially since the one that has ratted out your existence is still unknown.
So they took it upon themselves to always be your chaperone when you go out. As much of a hassle you thought it would be, it honestly just gives them an excuse to be around you even more. So in the end you just let them do it.
“I’m sorry our princess.. I mean it I’m very sorry…” he says as he gets up and makes his way over to you, pulling you close.
“Do you still want to go now..?”
“Can you go?”
“I have to make it up to you, don’t I?”
“And those idiots??”
“Hmmm well.. why don’t you tell me what I should do to them sweetheart?”
“Hmmmph. Well if they’re giving you guys so much trouble and they’re idiots, I don’t see why you can’t just kill them off and take what you need. We have the resources and manpower, plus you’ve done it before! You did it literally a week ago. You’re ATZ for goodness sake. No one is above you!” You say like it was nothing.
And you were right.
Hongjoong chuckles as he sits down and brings you into his lap.
“While you are correct my love, unfortunately what we need from them, requires them to still be alive. For now.” He explains.
“Ughh fineee…” You groan.
As you opened your mouth to speak again. That’s when a loud shrill screech disturbed the peacefulness of the moment.
“What now?!” Hongjoong barked.
“Oh! That must be my doing!” You said with what can only be described as a maniacal glint in your eyes.
“Oh?”
“Come Joongie! I’ll show you! Then we’ll go shopping!”
“Whatever you desire Princess.” He says with a kiss to your new diamond ring.
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
“LET GO OF ME!! LET GO!! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG?! UNHAND ME AT ONCE!!”
“Then why did you run?”
“H-huh..?”
Here in the middle of your grand foyer, was a girl being held down by two men on her knees. Behind her, every single one of your maids stood their sights straight down.
While in front of her is where you stood. Tall and proud. Wearing a stoic expression however the glint from earlier still in your eyes.
“Princess?? What do we have here?” Seonghwa asks.
Your husbands have all now gathered around you on top of the staircase. Simply enjoying the show.
You spin on your heels to look up at them with a wide cheshire grin. “You’ll see my loves!”
“Sirs..! Sirs please!! Please help me! She’s mistaken!”
SMACK
“Don’t you dare speak to my husbands.” You growl. “Ugh look at what you’ve done! You’ve gotten blood on my new ring!” Your finger now slightly dripping blood from where the diamond cut her cheek.
“Oh no.. No worries sweetheart, we’ll make you a new one.” San tells you.
“Oooh! Alright Sannie Thank you!”
“Please.. why are you doing this?? What did I do wrong?”
Your laugh then rings out throughout the foyer. Echoing beautifully off the walls.
“Stop your pathetic little act.” You say as you crouch down to her eye level.
“I know you were the one that snitched about me.”
At this revelation your husbands became even more interested than before. They all perked up and blood boiling again now that they finally have the culprit.
“What?! Who even are you??!”
They’re so angry they want to just run down and tear her limb from limb. However they know you have something plan. So they just let you have your fun.
You smirk widens at Wooyoungs question. As you know how reality shattering it is to her.
“W-what..? You don’t.. recognize me?? Sir Wooyoung! I’ve worked here for years!! ..None.. of you recognize me?” She asks pitifully.
As she looks up at all of them, she sees nothing but fury and confusion. Not a single one of them having any knowledge on who she is.
SMACK
“I told you. Do not. EVER. Speak. To MY. Husbands.”
You then got up and turn back to your loves above you.
“My darlings. This here. Used to be one of our maids. And she thought that by getting rid of me. She could have all of you.”
“What?!”
“How absurd!”
“How stupid is what that is!”
“No! Its not true! It’s not! It wasn’t me!!! I-I would never betray any of you!” She continues to plea.
“Then why. Did. You. Run?”
“I-I didn’t..”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your absence ever since I was returned home? Hah! It’s what gave you away! And you actually thought they would? and what?! go searching for you?!” You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“The day after I returned home from my kidnapping. I realized we were short staffed. It didn’t take me long to realize it was you. When I asked, Kim said you resigned due to health. I didn’t believe it for a second. So I had them search your room. And look what I found!”
At your signal, The head maid Kim stepped forward and gave you a pile of letters.
Love letters.
“Hmm. I’m sure you can guess what these are. You wrote them. Each and every one of them. You didn’t hide them very well. Not sure why you didn’t even just burn or take them with you.” You scoff.
“They’re quite romantic actually… If. They weren’t addressed to my beloveds.”
Her blood has gone cold. She doesn’t know what to do. She can only kneel there looking up at you as she fears her fate.
Unfortunately her fate was sealed the second she began writing these letters.
“I-it’s not.. no… I-I never even gave it to them! Please!! It’s not what it looks like.”
“You thought once you got rid of me. You could swoop in and take my place. However once I came back alive, you decided to run. Thinking I would never suspect you. You then also believed that any of my husbands would realize you stopped being around and come looking for you! Because somehow you have convinced yourself that they’re in love with you! They don’t even know you!!”
“THEY LOVE ME!!!”
SMACK
“Oh. That was the hardest one yet.” Mingi whispers to Yunho. Who nods in agreement.
While on the other side of the staircase Yeosang whispers to Jongho about how this maid is insane to ever think that.
“100%.”
“They don’t. Why would they?” You start then throwing her letters in her face.
“Why would distinguished men like them ever waste space in their brains for a lowly pathetic slut like you? Let alone space in their hearts.”
“…I just..”
“Enough talking. You’ve said far more than you deserve. And frankly I’m bored already.”
You then extend your hand out. One of the henchmen that was holding her down then hands you a syringe.
The girl then panics at the sight of an unknown syringe.
“Wait no please! Whats in that?! What are you gonna do to me?!”
“You could’ve had anything you wanted in this mansion. Anything. And I promise you. I would’ve happily given them to you. My clothes. My shoes. My jewels. My gold. Anything. I’m just that generous.”
You open the syringe cap.
“However the thing you decided to covet? Were the only things that were forbidden. My. Prized possessions. My husbands. And for that. You must suffer the consequence.”
Before she can even let out another sound of protest you injected her straight in the neck.
You and the men holding her down then stepped back as her screams quickly filled the foyer. Her skin and flesh melting straight off of her bones.
“So thats what she ordered acid for.” Hongjoong then mumbles.
“You knew she ordered acid?” Wooyoung asks
“She used my card.” Hongjoong shrugs.
It was a ghastly sight but none of them were even slightly bothered.
Well.
Of course the other maids were.
Once her screams come to a halt. And she was nothing but a pile of goop on the once spotless marbled floor.
You laughed.
Your husbands then descended the stairs.
Once your laughing fit was over you addressed the other maids who were still standing there. Mortified of what has become of their once friend.
“Now all of you. Remember my words. You are free to ask anything you want from me. I have more than enough for a single lifetime so I’ll be happy to give it to you. However. If you ever even for a nanosecond think. You could replace me or take any of my husbands away from me. Well. Ask her how that turned out for her.” Fire resonating deep in your voice.
“Thats all. Now all of you clean this up please!” You then say with a bright smile as if the past 20 minutes or so didn’t just happen.
“Come now darling. I believe I owe you a shopping trip.” Hongjoong then says as he puts his hand on your lower back.
“Ah yes!! Lets go! May all my beloveds come with?? Then we can have dinner?”
“Why not?” Yunho says with a bright smile.
Your husband then all lead you out to the car.
“You know no one could ever take you from us. Right Princess?” San says softly to you.
“Of course! I would never let them.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. We wouldn’t either.” Yeosang says.
“They literally can’t our love. You have us all wrapped around your pretty delicate fingers.” Wooyoung adds as he kisses your ring finger.
“I know.”
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
© mimikittysblog 2024
Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite
Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(
#ateez#poly ateez#ateez fluff#ateez angst#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader#mimikittysblog
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Surety of Ghos-ti
Requested Here!
Pairing: Dominique Luca x pregnant!fem!reader
Summary: You are held hostage, and Luca and his team have to save you and your baby.
Warnings: angst, violence, threats of homicide, comfort/fluff
Word Count: 2.8k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List
“Hondo!” Luca calls as he enters SWAT HQ.
Hondo stands immediately, his eyes wide as he asks, “She’s in labor?”
“No, man, and she won’t be for a while,” Luca replies with a smile. “I thought I was supposed to be the nervous, jumpy one.”
“Give it a few more weeks,” Deacon interjects. “It gets easier after the first one, though.”
“We ain’t all like you, Deac,” Hondo teases. “What do ya need, Luca?”
“50 Squad’s serving a felony warrant with the Marshals in Santa Clarita, so Hicks wants us to be ready to pick up the slack.”
“They better not go to Magic Mountain without me,” Street grumbles from the other side of the room.
“Priorities, Street,” Deacon reminds him.
“Yeah, they’re sorted.”
“I have to be at the party supply store before they close at 9,” Chris says. “As long as our shift ends when it’s supposed to, I can let Rocker slide this one time.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Luca responds.
Chris turns to stare at Luca, and after a moment, he concedes and raises his hands. The team decided to throw you a baby shower, besides the one you had for friends and family, because you are part of 20 Squad, and you’ve gained another family. Luca expected Annie to be the one who took the reins of the shower. He has seen how well you and Chris get along, so he shouldn’t be surprised by her insistence on making the party perfect.
“When does she learn the gender?” Street asks. “If it’s a boy, Streeter has a nice ring to it.”
“They’re not going to set the kid up for failure before birth, my man,” Hondo calls.
“Her appointment was supposed to be today, but the doctor had to reschedule,” Luca answers. “She’s not sure she wants to know, though.”
“Chris works for a niece or nephew,” Chris points out.
Luca laughs, then remembers that Hicks asked him to review a new strategy with Hondo and, despite his preference to continue discussing you, he focuses on work.
Los Angeles has every kind of store you could ever need, but when a new handmade baby goods store opens a few miles from your place, you know you must visit. Luca is at work, you’ve done everything Chris allowed you to for the upcoming baby shower, and even though you’re 20 weeks pregnant, you’re restless. So, you gather your phone, wallet, and keys, then lock your front door and begin the short drive to the store.
The pastel blue façade welcomes you after you park, and you run your hand under your growing bump as you enter the store. A handwritten “Cash Only; Sorry!” sign is displayed on the counter, and you mentally thank yourself for asking Luca to take you to the bank over the weekend. He’s the best part of your life, the love of your life, and his insistence to help you prepare before giving birth has been a godsend.
“Hi!” a smiling employee calls. “Welcome in, let me know if you need anything!”
“Hello,” you reply. “Thank you. I’m just looking for now.”
“Awesome! There’s so much cute stuff in here, take your time.”
You smile, then trail your eyes around the store. It’s larger than it looked from the outside, and you decide to start in the back corner and work toward the front of the store. There’s a small cart return area at the front of the store, likely from the building’s past resident, now blocked off with a sign that says, “We got you, mamas. If you’re shopping alone and need assistance, let an employee know and we’ll keep your stuff behind the counter so you can relax and focus on finding the perfect items.”
As you reach the back of the store, there’s a corner filled with onesies and toes relating to parents’ jobs. A pair of pajamas catches your eye, embroidered with a police van that reminds you of Black Betty and “Relax, my dad is a police officer.” You lay it over your arm, then laugh at the one behind it. With both secured, you continue walking around the store. The employee from earlier checks in with you as you walk past and graciously offers to take the items from your arms and hold them behind the counter for you.
“Thank you,” you call as she uses a dry-erase marker to write your name on a plastic bin beneath the register.
“Of course!” she replies.
She waves to another employee, returning from somewhere, and you continue shopping. You look at some BPA-free bottles and specialty pacifiers rather than looking up when the bell over the door rings.
“Welcome in.”
You hear the strain in the cashier’s voice and shift your attention quickly, reaching for your phone when you see a man dressed in all black blocking the doorway. He puts his gloved hand against his hip as one of the women places her hand against the edge of the counter, her fingers underneath the lip. You assume she presses a panic button and stay behind a shelf as you click your screen to find Luca’s contact.
“Empty the register,” the man demands.
“Okay, okay,” one of the women mutters, opening the register and dumping a few bills and loose coins onto the counter.
“Where’s the rest of it?”
“That’s all. We just took most of it to the bank, we only have enough to make change.”
“Open the safe!”
“Don’t have one.”
The man jerks his head to the side quickly, then pulls a black gun from his waistband. You forget about texting Luca and press the button to call him instead. The man pulls his black cap off, running his fingers through his hair. He turns toward you after his arm falls out of his peripheral view, suddenly aware of your presence.
“What are you doing over there?” he yells, aiming the gun at you.
You raise your hands quickly, but not before setting your phone behind a bottle on the shelf and praying Luca answers. “I was just shopping,” you answer as you step away from the shelf.
“Give me your money, too!”
You swallow as you pull your wallet out, then hand over the cash you have. The man holds the gun on you with one hand as he counts the money with the other. He sighs, then backs toward the door. He twists the lock until it clicks and flips the sign on the door to say Closed.
“This isn’t enough,” he says as if he’s having a normal conversation and not threatening lives over less than $500. “What are we going to do about that?”
“What about a bottle warmer?” Street asks, scrolling through a baby registry on his phone.
“Got one,” Luca answers without looking up. “I told her to make her own registry.”
“Towel warmer for Mom?”
“I bought her one,” Hicks interjects. When the team turns toward him, he shrugs and says, “New moms need comfort and new things, too.”
Luca smiles and shakes his head as his phone begins ringing. “Speaking of new moms,” he murmurs before answering the phone. Luca doesn’t hear anything, so he repeats your name several times. Just before he hangs up, he hears muffled speech.
“What’s up?” Tan asks, noticing the concern on Luca’s face.
Luca gestures for him to be quiet, places his phone on speaker, and turns it up.
“I was just shopping,” you say, your voice growing quieter like you’re stepping away from the phone.
“Give me your money, too!” a man yells.
Hondo reaches across Luca’s chest and mutes the microphone to ask, “Where is she?”
Keeping the phone call connected, Luca navigates to your contact and reads your current location so Street can type it into the computer.
“Home Grown Baby, it’s a handmade baby goods store,” Street says. “The silent alarm was activated less than a minute ago.”
“Maybe you should put the gun down,” another woman says. “We can help you.”
Someone screams, and you plead, “Stop, stop.”
Hicks raises his own phone to his ear, whispering hurried commands. “I called off local PD. That’s a hostage situation. Luca, if you need to sit this out-”
“I’m good,” Luca assures the team. “Let’s do this.”
“Luca,” Deacon calls, stopping him on the way to Black Betty. “Your girl, your unborn child… he’s going to try to use them as insurance, a surety that things stay in his control. We need to you think with her if this is going to work.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Luca answers, letting his training override his emotions. At least until he gets to the store.
You hold a hand against your stomach as you sit beside the employees, tucked under the front of the counter as the armed man paces before you. Glancing over, you see that the woman who returned from the bank, Elizabeth, is looking better. He hit her over the head with his gun, but her color is returning, and the blood on her temple is drying.
“Is-" the other woman, Jane, begins. She stops when the man turns toward you. When he turns away again, she whispers, “Are you really with a cop?”
You nod once and squeeze her hand in a silent promise that your cop, your love, your Luca, will get everyone out of this building alive.
“Guns blazing,” Hondo suggests.
“I doubt he’ll like that,” Deacon argues. “He clearly wants to be in control based on the phone call.”
“They haven’t spoken since he made them sit,” Street adds, Luca’s phone pressed to his ear. “Not loud enough to hear at least.”
“We can’t risk spooking him into hurting anyone,” Luca agrees. “Try hostage recovery, talk him down, then go from there?”
“Thirty seconds,” Tan alerts from the driver’s seat. “Lights and sirens?”
“Lights only,” Hondo answers. “Park right outside the door, I want him to see us.”
Hondo takes a deep breath, then stops. He passes the phone to Deacon and nods once. Deacon dials the store number and waits for an answer as he trades places with Street to sit in the front.
“Hello,” he says after a moment. “I’m Sergeant Deacon Kay with LAPD SWAT. Who am I speaking to?”
“How’d you know I was here?” the man demands, in stereo for Street, listening to Luca’s phone and Deacon’s call.
“It’s a busy parking lot, someone got suspicious,” Deacon says carefully. “Is there something we should be worried about?”
“Yeah, there is!”
“What’s going on, sir?”
“I need money! She took everything from me, I can’t even see my kid and now I’m going to lose my apartment.”
Hondo holds up his left hand and taps his empty ring finger. Deacon nods, then takes a dramatic breath.
“I get that,” he replies. “My ex took all three of our kids, told the courts I would neglect them because of my hours as a cop. They- women take and take.”
“I need $1,200 but there’s only $300 here!”
“Listen, you come out, and I’ll help you with a plan to get the other 9.”
“No, no, I walk out there, I lose it all anyway. That isn’t how I’m ending this.”
“The women in that store didn’t do anything wrong, Mr.?”
“Kirkfield,” the man says quietly. “Keith.”
“Alright, Keith, my name’s David. I can help you, but not until I know the other people inside are safe.”
“I got a cousin who’s in jail for assault and battery, he called this part ghos-ti, you know what this is, David?”
“No, I don’t.”
“It’s like the root for our word hostage. I’ve got three ladies in here unwilling to cough up the cash I need.” He raises his voice, likely so you and the employees can hear, and adds, “If they’d listened, I’d be gone already!”
“Keith,” Deacon begins.
“No, I’m thinking you don’t get it either. So, remember next time you call without my money that ghos-ti also sounds a lot like a dead baby.”
Luca’s eyes widen as he grips the non-lethal gun across his chest. Hondo informs them they can’t get the money quickly, and Street shakes his head to communicate that Keith isn’t talking.
Suddenly, Deacon’s phone rings again.
“Change of plans, Sergeant,” Keith says. “Ten minutes, or I start shooting.”
“That won’t-“
The line beeps, and Luca tightens his jaw as Hondo begins brainstorming a plan to get inside.
You hold your hand against your mouth, growing nauseous from the stress of your situation, pregnancy hormones, and hunger. It’s been eight minutes since Keith gave Deacon ten minutes, and you know that the team is working to get inside if they’re not already.
“What are you doing?” Keith asks. “Move your hand.”
“I’m getting sick,” you explain before pressing your lips together.
“She’s pregnant, her blood pressure is probably too high or her sugar’s dropping,” Jane says. “I have snacks in my bag behind the counter, please just let me-“
Keith fires one shot into the wall, and you drop your head to cover your ears, fighting the rolling sensation in your stomach.
“Hold,” Hondo commands after the shot. “Street?”
“He-“ Street looks toward Luca. “He was talking to her, and one of the women asked to get her a snack. No one’s talking.”
“Stay here,” Hondo tells Luca.
“Absolutely not,” Luca argues. “We’re wasting time, Hondo.”
Luca’s chest tightens; he feels like taking a full breath would kill him, and this time, he can’t rely on his training. He heard the shot but no screaming, so he has no idea what they are about to walk into. Maybe Keith shot on accident, or maybe there’s a bloodbath. Regardless, you’re inside, and he will not sit on the sidelines.
They move silently through the back room of the store, pausing against a wooden door separating them from the showroom.
“I’ll give you my credit card, whatever you want, just please stop,” one of the women pleads through tears. Street thinks it’s Elizabeth, and as they review the thermal scan of the room, he tries to find where your phone could be.
“He’s pacing,” Tan says quietly.
“When he turns toward the front again, we’re breaching,” Hondo decides. “Don’t give him a chance to get another shot off, Chris.”
“I won’t give him a chance to pucker,” she mumbles as she moves into position.
Tan watches the image, raising his fingers to countdown from three. Hondo pulls the door open, and Chris shoots Keith’s upper leg before he even turns all the way around. Luca calls your name, rushing toward the counter as his team finishes their job. When he sees you, your arms wrapped protectively around your bump, he drops to his knees and pulls you against his chest.
“He’s cute,” the woman beside you – bloody woman Luca notices after – whispers.
You nod against Luca, carefully moving your arms to hug him. As you thank him repeatedly for coming, Chris and Tan haul Keith to his feet and take him toward an approaching patrol car.
“You hid this well,” Street applauds as he extends his phone toward you. “That microphone is nice, I should get one.”
“Priorities, Street!” Deacon yells from the back of the store.
“Thank you for coming,” you tell Street. “I need to pay for my stuff and then- I actually need to get up first.”
Luca holds your arms carefully, and Street lays a hand on your back as you stand. Once you’re on your feet again, Luca wraps his arm around your waist.
“These are so on the house,” Elizabeth tells you, passing two bags over the counter. “I’m going to the hospital with Jane but thank you for everything.”
“Thank you,” Luca tells her, pulling the bags to his side. “Now, we’re going home.”
You smile and lean tiredly against Luca. As he helps you into the passenger seat of your car, Street runs over and hugs you. Luca shoves him away from the back door before sitting in the driver’s seat and sighing.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he tells you, holding your hand against his thigh. “I love you.”
“I love you,” you reply.
“Isn’t it cute?” you ask, spreading the police van onesie over the table before you.
“Not cute enough to risk you getting shot at,” Luca mumbles against your temple. “But very cute.”
“Then you’ll really like this one.”
You pass the folded cloth to Luca, leaning harder against his side. He unfolds the onesie, reads it, and laughs. The sound feels like home, and as you curl up beside Luca, you know you and your baby will always be safe.
“Proof my mom loves policemen,” Luca says after a few minutes. “That’s funny.”
“And true.”
“Prove it,” he requests, smiling as his lips brush over yours.
#dominique luca x fem!reader#dominique luca x reader#dominique luca fic#dominique luca#luca x reader#swat imagine#swat fic#swat x reader#swat cbs#hanna writes✯#fem!reader#requests#cw pregnancy
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Heart to Heart | Clay Beresford x Reader
Pairing: clay beresford x f!doctor!reader
Word Count: 16.2k
Summary: after crossing paths and connecting with new york’s most well known businessman, you end up in a whirlwind situation that’ll change your life forever
Warnings: reader is a heart transplant recipient, descriptions of heart transplant procedures and the healing process, mentions of overdosing and death of a mother, mild swearing
Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request
A/N: clay beresford, my angel bb! I was literally so excited when I got this request. I’m so absolutely obsessed with the awake movie and I think hayden did such a good job as clay. I literally need all the content for my little nyc golden retriever lmao! I really like how this turned out and I hope ya’ll do too. thank you sm to the person who requested this! enjoy and lmk what you think <3
Sterile.
That’s the only word you can ever come up with to describe the feeling of walking into the hospital each day. The white tiles, the bright lights, the almost burning scent of alcohol; it’s all so much to take in but somehow it also gives you a sense of peace.
Every time you come in through those doors it’s like a fresh start. No matter what happened the day before, no matter the heartbreaks or victories, the moment you step inside it’s another chance at new opportunities. It’s one of the reasons you love working here so much, love doing what you do. There are a lot of uncertainties in your line of work, but there are some risks worth taking.
Rounding the corner you start going over what you need to do today. Residency has been a whirlwind of an experience and every day is different from the last, but over the past few months since you’ve been at this hospital, you’ve started to get somewhat of a routine down. At least when you start your day it’s kind of the same every time, giving you a moment of normalcy until the real fun begins.
Changing into your scrubs in the locker room, you nearly jump as one of your coworkers, Jill, comes up beside you.
“Hey!” She squeaks, a gleam in her eyes you know all too well. She’s definitely up to something.
“Jesus, stop doing that to me! You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” you grumble. Shutting your locker you sit on the bench to change into your comfortable work shoes. They’re not the prettiest but they do wonders for your back and feet during these long shifts you endure.
“Sorry! But you’ll never guess who I just saw walk in with Dr. Harper.”
“Who?” You inquire—Jill’s giddy smile and shifty eyes beginning to freak you out.
“Clay Beresford,” she whispers, moving closer to you on the bench to ensure no one else can hear. Not like anyone would considering the two of you are the only people in the locker room.
“Really?” The name isn’t at all unfamiliar. If you live in this city, you know who Clay Beresford is, or his name at the very least. The man owns half the city at this point, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he owned all of it by the time he hit 30. All inherited from his father and even from his own doing too. You’ve seen a bit about him here and there in the papers and on the news. It surprises you how young he is and yet he’s already accomplished so much. It’s inspiring to put it plainly, especially considering how much good he’s done for the underprivileged.
It doesn’t surprise you Jill’s seen Clay here. When you started working at this hospital the gossip was everywhere. You couldn’t chat with a coworker without Clay Beresford being brought up. Apparently he has a bad heart and suffered a massive heart attack not long before you started. It was clear to you then that he didn’t have much time left without a transplant, and that was a while ago. You’re surprised he hasn’t been able to receive one yet considering his status, but amongst the whispers you were able to piece together that his blood type is rare and thus the transplant waiting game began. You’re unfortunately more familiar with that game than you’d like to be—having had your own heart transplant just a few short years ago.
No pun intended but your heart aches for Clay. You know that fear and anxiety he must be facing isn’t easy. The wait for a transplant is brutal enough as it is, but dealing with that is only half the battle. The road to recovery is a long and painful one and you just hope he has the support he’ll need once he does have the surgery. You’re not sure why your mind wanders to thoughts like that when you think of Clay, maybe it’s the transplant sympathizer in you, but there’s also just a part of you that feels like the Beresford heir is so much more than the media and other people make him out to be.
It’s sad, really, when you think about it. In reality Clay’s just like any other person trying to keep on living and get healthy, yet he’s talked about around the hospital as if HIPPA doesn’t exist. Sure he has money and power—as much as a man in New York could have—but that doesn’t change the fact he’s just a 20-something year old guy fighting for his life. You just wish more people saw it that way and wished him well instead of questioning what’s gonna happen to his company if he doesn’t make it out alive.
“-and I mean ohmygod I only saw him for a split second but I swear he is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” So lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even realized Jill has been going off on a tangent about her encounter with Clay.
“Wait, so did you talk to him?” Your eyebrows knit together as you look over at your friend, suddenly needing her to go back several steps in her story.
“No, I told you when I saw him walking down the hall with Dr. Harper I said hello to Doctor and that was it. I couldn’t exactly blurt out Clay’s name like I knew him. If I had I mean hello, stalker much?” You try to bite back your smirk, wanting to tell her that’s exactly what this whole conversation paints her out to be, but you let it go. Jill is always one for the dramatics. “But I did look at him as I was passing by and he smiled at me and nodded and honestly after that I’d say I’m pretty content with life now.”
Giggling, you shake your head. “You’re somethin’ else you know that, Jill?”
“Awh, c’mon! You can’t tell me you wouldn’t just die to have a conversation with Clay Beresford,” Jill teases, poking you softly in the side to try and egg you on. You swat her hand away playfully and roll your eyes.
“It’s not like he’s royalty. Sure he’s attractive and rich but so are a lot of men, some not so favorable.”
“Okay but he might as well be! He’s about as close as you can get to royalty in New York! And that’s the point, he’s not part of those not so favorable men. He seems like a really great guy! I know you think so too, I’ve heard your thoughts on him before. It’s good to have guys like him having a hand in what goes on in this city. God knows we need the help.”
“You got all of that out of a smile and a nod?” This time it’s Jill’s turn to roll her eyes and the two of you laugh lightly as you get up from your spots on the bench.
“Whatever, I’m just saying! You’ll understand where I’m coming from when you meet him in person.”
Reaching for the door handle you look back at Jill. “I doubt that’ll ever happen. I can’t think of one instance where he and I will ever end up in the same room together.”
“It’s possible, I mean look at me! I was just walking down the hall ready to come get you and there he was in all his glory,” she smiles. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t run into him yet considering all the times he’s here. I know he’s always with Harper when he is here and you’re not usually on his service, but still. I’m also surprised Harper hasn’t introduced the two of you considering your history. You could probably give Clay some tips, you know.”
Turning the thought over in your head you realize that’s not actually a bad observation or idea. “You know you’re actually right. I do have first hand experience with that stuff…but I mean so does Dr. Harper. Sure he’s never experienced a transplant personally but he’s performed them countless times. He probably knows better than me everything that goes along with getting a new heart. I’m just a resident, what could I really help Clay with?”
Jill hums, a sign that means she’s not giving up. “There’s nothing better than talking to someone who’s actually gone through what they have. Respectfully, Dr. Harper can tell Clay all he wants about the process but you’ve actually lived it. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you happened across him and were able to at least ease his mind if nothing else. Transplants are scary and dangerous, especially heart ones, but you’re proof they actually work and that he has a fighting chance.”
Glancing at your coworker you can see it in her eyes she’s being sincere. Sure Jill likes to joke a lot and is more unserious than not half the time, but she does have her moments and you’ve certainly found yourself in one. It warms your heart that she actually thinks you could be of any help to fellow transplant recipients, even if this whole conversation only started because of the fact she’s attracted to a patient.
“Thanks, Jill. Look I promise if I happen to see Clay Beresford I’ll make sure to give him all my expert advice on dealing with a heart transplant.” Saying it out loud kind of sounds ridiculous to you, still not believing the idea you’d ever even have a chance to talk to the businessman. But it seems to be enough for the woman beside you because in an instant she’s excitedly clapping her hands.
“Goodie! Now, let’s get serious.” Grabbing onto your arm as the two of you continue walking, she leans her head closer to yours—reminding you of when you were both in the locker room. “Do you think Clay has a girlfriend?”
And she’s back.
*****
After parting ways with Jill, you find yourself wandering the halls. A patient had asked you for directions and you took it upon yourself to just lead them to where they needed to go, finding it much easier to do instead of trying to explain it. Sometimes you swear you still get lost around here too.
You’ve ended up a long ways away from where you need to be so you’re quickly trying to find the easiest way back. You don’t have much to do right now but you’d still rather be closer to your assigned doctor for the day in case something comes up. Anything can happen and you want to be accessible if help is needed. You’re eager to learn any and all new skills whenever you can, plus you have a feeling it helps when doctors are deciding who gets to join in on surgeries, which—if you’re being honest—is the goal.
Turning the corner, you cut through the hallway where some of the operating rooms are. You’ve found yourself here countless of times in the past few months, either helping out with low-risk surgeries or merely observing. It gives you a rush in the moment, makes your heart beat a little faster, and although you know super high stress and a rapid heartbeat isn’t the best for you and your condition—it makes you feel alive. The rush and the heavy thumps of your heart remind you of all you’ve been through, all you’ve survived, and it makes you even more grateful to still be here. Grateful to still be able to go out there and help people just like you’ve always wanted.
Smiling at the thought, you quicken your steps, eager to get back to work and see what the day has in store for you. Though before you get much further, you look off to the side and see a doctor rapidly approaching you. It’s Dr. Puttnam, one of the doctors that works closely with Dr. Harper.
You’ve worked on his service a few times before but each time you were itching to get away. There’s just something about him you find a little off. Part of it is probably the way he so easily cracks jokes in the operating room while cutting open a patient and how he seems so cocky with everything he does. It’s like there’s this missing piece of humanity in him, he gives you the impression he only cares about himself and you constantly find yourself wanting to roll your eyes in his presence. You and Jill have talked about him before and she feels the same way you do—if not stronger. The two of you always tease each other when one of you unfortunately gets put on his service, and as he approaches you you pray he’s not here to tell you today’s one of those instances. That’d really put a damper on your mood right now.
“Y/N! Glad to run into you. Hey, do me a favor and let Dr. Harper know to saddle up. Riordan’s cabbage is in the ICU bleedin’. He took off for the fuckin’ vineyard so we gotta get in there. Harper’s supposedly in one of the operating rooms so just find him and let him know I’ll be waiting, thanks!”
You don’t even get a chance to respond because in an instant he’s back to rushing down the hallway. See this is exactly why you don’t like him. Who talks like that about another patient? It’s like taking care of people is a chore for him…as if it’s not his job.
Ugh.
Trying to not let it get to you, you take a peek in the operating room closest to you. You can see Dr. Harper through the window and can tell he’s talking to someone but you can’t see who it is. You’re pretty sure he didn’t have any surgeries this morning so you’re confused on why he’s even inside. You shrug and push on the door, feeling the weight of it as it slides open.
When you walk in you catch the tail-end of Harper’s conversation. “You might not have much of it left, okay?”
Your eyes cut from the doctor to the figure that moves on the operating table. As you step further into the room you nearly trip over your feet as you stop dead in your tracks. Laying on the operating table, forearms holding up the top half of his body, and staring straight at you, is Clay Beresford himself.
Oh my god?
For some reason you figured Clay would’ve been gone by now. Sure you knew he was with Dr. Harper, but considering his job you just assumed it’d be quick. You never thought in a million years you’d walk in on him laying on an operating table fully clothed and apparently discussing something serious with Dr. Harper. It’s strange but you’re also intrigued.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N! How can I help you?” Harper’s voice breaks you out of your trance and you pray the heat you feel flush through your body isn’t visible as you finally look away from the blonde just a few feet in front of you.
“Dr. Harper, I-I’m sorry to interrupt! I didn’t know you were with a…” Words fail you as your eyes flit to Clay once again, taking note of the soft smile adorned on his face. Finally the word you’re looking for comes to mind and you shift your focus back onto Harper. “Patient.”
“It’s quite alright, we were just finishing up.” Harper turns to Clay and from the tone of his voice and look on his face, you get the feeling you actually were interrupting. “Was there something you needed, Y/N?”
Before you can dive too deep into the possibilities of what it is Dr. Harper was talking to Clay about, you remind yourself of the actual reason you walked in here. “Yes! Sorry! Dr. Puttnam stopped me in the hall and told me there’s a bit of a-uh emergency?” Going over Puttnam’s words in your head you try to piece together a more respectful version of them. “Dr. Riordan’s patient is apparently bleeding out and he’s away on vacation so Dr. Puttnam said it’s up to the both of you to treat the patient now. It seemed urgent and he said he wants you to meet up with him in the ICU right away.”
A flash of shock crosses Dr. Harper’s face as he takes in your words and you can see him start to revert to hyperdrive-as most doctors do with news like this. “Oh I see, alright, thank you for letting me know.”
Harper places a hand on Clay’s shoulder and you take this moment to do a once over of the businessman as his attention is being drawn elsewhere. He’s wearing a grey suit that is of course fitted to perfection and he’s got some leather shoes (that you’re sure are worth more than your rent) to match.
It’s funny, you would think that considering his well-kept appearance and cookie cutter styling, the Beresford heir would be oozing the feeling of wealth and prestige. But instead all you see as you look at him sat on that operating table, looking up into the serious eyes of his doctor, is apprehension and uncertainty wrapped up in expensive packaging.
Clay may have practically all the money in the world and an empire of a business backing him, but it’s clear in the unspoken message passing between him and Dr. Harper that there’s a lot more involved than what the public knows. It’s apparent to you, just like you thought earlier, that there’s more to Clay Beresford than just his money and pretty face, that he too has things—people—he’s scared of losing.
You can’t help the downward dip in the corner of your lips as you think about it all, as you think about how you were in his exact same position not that long ago.
“I have to go,” Harper says as he steps away from Clay, but suddenly he stops and you watch as his gaze flutters back and forth between you and the blonde. A thought seems to occur to him and you swear you can see a smile start to form on his face. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot you two have never met before. I don’t know why I didn’t think to introduce you sooner. Y/N, this is Clay, he’s a patient of mine that’s awaiting a heart transplant. Clay, this is Y/N, she’s a resident here and is actually a heart transplant recipient herself.”
Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Where is Jill and how in the hell did she speak this into existence?
Before you get the chance to actually process the fact you’re being personally introduced to Clay, you watch as the man of the hour sticks out his hand for you to shake. You take a step forward and grasp it in your own, giving his hand a light shake as he nods his head and smiles up at you from his seat on the table.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says.
“You as well, Clay.” A beat passes between the two of you just looking at each other and it’s in this instance you notice how blue Clay’s eyes are. They’re pale blue—like the sky—and you find yourself hoping that a cloud never passes through them.
God, get it together, Y/N.
Letting go of Clay’s hand, you take a step back and put some distance between you. The pictures of him on the news and in the paper so do not do him justice. You take a second to remind yourself Clay’s still a patient of this hospital and, yeah, you’re still an employee of it too. Oops?
“Remember what I said, Clay. No regrets. The clock’s ticking,” Harper says as he walks backwards towards the door. As he faces forward and grabs onto the handle, he stops and turns towards you both again. “You know, Y/N, while you’re here maybe you can give Clay a little advice and insight on the importance and weight of this surgery? Have a little…heart to heart, if you will.”
The doctor smiles at you both before he disappears through the door, leaving you and Clay alone in the operating room.
As the door softly closes, you swear you could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. For being a bustling hospital it sure is quiet out there…
“So, you’re a heart transplant recipient?” Clay breaks the silence first and you’re grateful for it. You’re not sure what you would’ve even opened a conversation like this with. What does Harper expect you to say? Hey, Clay! This surgery is super scary and you might die, but stay positive!
To be fair, it’s not like that’s a lie per say, but it’s incredibly blunt and you’re definitely not the type of person to just dish something out like that and move on.
“I am,” you start, finding it hard to fully look into the blonde’s eyes again. They’re so intense you’re not sure you’ll be able to be alone with him in this room, look into them, and not completely lose your mind. “It was a while back, nothing extremely recent, but yeah. It was…an experience.”
You don’t even know how to articulate the proper words to explain to Clay how monumental something like a heart transplant is. He’s not stupid, there’s no doubt he knows the risks, but having experienced it yourself and knowing first hand what’s it’s like on the other side of it all is hard to summarize.
“I bet it was,” Clay practically whispers. It’s in this moment you notice he’s lost some of that front he was obviously putting up for Dr. Harper. That joking edge in his tone is gone and is instead replaced by unknowingness. “Dr. Harper has tried to explain to me over and over how important and serious this surgery is, and I get it I really do, but there’s still a part of me that is completely lost on it all. I think if I believe it’s not that bad and just act like everything is fine that it will be. But I know that’s not how it works.
“I’ve tried to talk to Dr. Harper about it but it never comes out the way I want it to. I feel like it would kind of fall on deaf ears anyways. At the end of that surgery Dr. Harper will still be alive. I’m the only one in that operating room who has a chance at not making it back out of there and that terrifies the hell out of me.” Clay let’s out a breathy laugh, not because he finds anything actually funny, but because of the fact he can’t believe he actually said that out loud.
Since the moment he found out he needed this surgery, he’s never once vocalized the very real possibility of what can happen. He’s heard it spoken a dozen times to and around him, but never once has he heard it be spoken in his own voice. The weight on his shoulders seems to somehow get even heavier.
You know Clay is a busy man and that there isn’t a lot of time here to get through to him. But you feel your heart practically shatter in your chest at the blonde’s words, and it’s at this point you decide you’ll try your best, because for some reason the universe has given you this opportunity to be there for someone in your position—something you unfortunately didn’t have. You won’t stand to let Clay be in this alone. Family or not, the man clearly has no one around who’s gone through what he has and you refuse to let him deal with it on his own any longer.
“Clay,” you say, taking tentative steps towards him, not wanting to cross a boundary but also wanting to be close enough so he really hears what you’re about to say. “Dr. Harper isn’t wrong when he says how risky this surgery is. There is a very high chance that you will go to sleep on that table and never wake up.”
Clay’s eyes flick to yours and suddenly that jittery feeling you had looking into them earlier is gone. Now you only feel sincerity and determination as you look into them.
“I don’t want you to take that as me believing you won’t survive this, though. I mean look at me, I know first hand exactly what you’re going through, what you will go through, and I am still here. I am alive and healthy and proof that this can work for you too. I don’t know everything Dr. Harper has told you or asked of you, but I want you to know that you don’t have to let the fear control you. Yeah, this surgery is scary as hell. I didn’t think I was going to make it either, but I did, and I’ve lived every day since knowing this transplant is not a death sentence. It’s a chance at a new life.”
Something flickers in Clay’s eyes and you swear you can tell you’re getting through to him, in whatever way that may be.
“Yes, there are risks, and yes I agree with Dr. Harper in the sense that you need to grasp the fact this surgery and it’s repercussions are very real, but that’s not all that’s important. Of course there are things you have to think about and take care of before going into this surgery, but you also need to take care of yourself. It is your life, Clay, and if I took away anything from when I had my own transplant surgery, it’s that no one else can get you through this the way you can. Your decisions are your own and you have to look after what’s important to you first, no matter what or who that may be. But just because there’s a chance you won’t survive, that doesn’t mean it’ll happen. You deserve to still be able to think about and plan your future. Dr. Harper is a good surgeon and I believe with all my heart that you will continue to have one.”
There’s a finality in your tone that you’re not quite sure on where it came from. Part of you feels like you were just standing on a soap box and maybe you shouldn’t have gone off on that little rant as much as you did, but from the look on Clay’s face you can tell it means the world to him.
“Y/N…why is it only now I’ve just met you?” Clay grins at you and you can feel your face flush at both his comment and awestruck gaze. “Somehow I feel things would’ve made a lot more sense earlier on if I would’ve met you when this all started. Not one person has ever made me feel the way you just did about this surgery. No one’s been able to give their honest thoughts and feelings on it all like that. This is the first time in almost a year that I’ve ever felt seen and heard.”
There’s a small blush on Clay’s cheeks and you revel in the way you words have affected him. You didn’t really have a plan, you kinda just went for it, so you’re glad it came off the way you wanted it to. If there’s anything Clay—or any transplant patient really—deserves is the chance to find solace in someone who can relate to them. Someone to help ease their fears, their burdens.
“There’s a lot of doctors and statistics involved in this whole thing, but there’s not a lot of relatability. Going through this process can be very lonely and nerve wracking, and I know we quite literally just met today but I want you to know I’m here for you, Clay. If you need someone that has any clue about what it’ll feel like, what the process of recovery is like, I’m here to answer those questions. Not everyone is the same, everyone’s transplant journey is different. But just know you no longer have to feel alone in this.”
As you finish your spiel, you try to hide your surprise at your own words. You’ve met this man officially mere minutes ago and yet here you are essentially offering up a shoulder to cry on. Even through your shock you find it weird how natural it feels.
“Thank you, Y/N, seriously,” Clay starts, clearly not feeling uncomfortable at the offer at all as an honest and warm smile adorns his face as he looks at you. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
That heat makes its way back to your face as you stare at Clay, watching as his eyes look up at you through his lashes as he continues to sit on the operating table. In this position you have the tiniest bit of height advantage on him and you curse yourself for noticing how easy it would be to lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into an embrace.
After a few more beats of comfortable silence, the two of you just enthralled in each other’s presence, a daring thought pops into your head. It probably crosses so many lines in regards to HIPPA and just doctor/patient morals in general, but you don’t want this to be the last you see of Clay. Who knows when he’ll be back the same time as you, or if you’ll even get the opportunity to stop and talk to him when you are at the hospital at the same time. You’ve seen a lot of articles recently about taking things into your own hands, making the first step, and apparently this is your moment to practice just that.
“Clay-“ You don’t even get the chance to attempt to be bold because the moment the blonde’s name leaves your lips, his phone is ringing and his gaze is ripped from your own as he reaches into his pocket in search of the source of the sound.
You watch as he looks down at the screen and in an instant every thought of absolutely anything happening between you two is immediately dismissed. It’s so obvious in the way Clay’s shoulders relax, the crease between his brow flattens, and how his whole face practically lights up that clearly whoever is on the other side of that phone call is someone the businessman is in love with.
“Hey, baby,” Clay coos softly in the phone, looking so at peace in an environment that is the complete opposite of it. And that confirms it.
Your shoulders slump forward and you’re unsure why you feel so deeply affected by all of this. You don’t know Clay at all, never would have under any other circumstance, so why does it hurt so much watching him talk sweetly to another woman?
Quickly, you stand up straighter and plaster a smile on your face as Clay’s eyes flick over to you, seeming to remember where exactly he is and who it is he was talking to before his phone rang.
Pulling the phone away slightly from his face, he smiles at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should really head out now. It was so nice to meet you.” Clay gets up from the operating table and you find yourself taking a step back as his full height comes into view and he consumes your space.
“Of course! It was nice to meet you too, Clay,” you reply, finding it hard to meet his eyes now. A twinge of embarrassment floods through you. How naïve of you to let yourself daydream about this becoming anything else than what it actually is; a doctor talking to a patient.
You watch his retreating back as he makes his way to the door and you find yourself firmly planted in the spot he’s leaving you in. You won’t lie, a part of you doesn’t want to follow in the risk you’ll go in the same direction and you’ll be forced to hear him whisper more sweet nothings to another woman.
As Clay opens the door, he pauses for a moment before turning back to you and nodding his head. “See you around.”
The door slowly closes behind him and you let out a breath of air you didn’t realize you were holding in.
“See you around, Clay.”
*****
“God, I cannot wait to go home, curl up in bed, and go to sleep. I’m exhausted,” Jill groans as she rubs the back of her neck with her hand, trying to ease some of the tension there.
“Tell me about it, I feel like it was so brutal today. I guess it makes sense considering it is Halloween, but still.” Rolling your head, you feel a couple cracks in your neck and you can’t help the hum of satisfaction that slips past your lips at the feeling.
“Oh shit, it is Halloween, isn’t it? I can’t believe I didn’t realize! Ugh all the good candy is probably sold out by now. You think some of the other doctors with families will bring in candy tomorrow they don’t want their kids to eat? I’d kill for a full size Hershey bar.”
You giggle over your friend’s comments and roll your eyes as you nudge her softly. “Jill, we can get those from the vending machines! Stop trying to mooch off of kids’ hard earned candy.”
“I know, but it tastes better when it’s from trick or treating! A-k-a when it’s free! Besides those kids don’t need it, cavities and all that.”
“Oh okay, I didn’t know you switched over to dentistry,” you laugh.
Jill rolls her eyes and smirks. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, are you even working tomorrow? You better or when I steal a kid’s candy bar, I’m not sharing with you.”
“You’ll have to indulge without me then because I’m off,” you shrug and then laugh as you watch Jill throw her head back with a groan.
“Ugh, so not fair, you lucky, lucky girl! I’m not off until the day after.”
“It’s okay, I’ll get my karma then because I’m working when you’ll be off, so it all balances out in the end.”
Jill tilts her head and hums satisfactorily at that realization. “Huh, you’re right. All is forgiven.”
The two of you laugh and you shake your head at your friend’s antics. You don’t know what you’d do without her.
As the two of you round the corner towards the front door, you both slow down as you take in the sight of a small group before you. It only takes you a second to recognize Clay and even less time to realize he’s with a girl. A very beautiful girl at that.
“Woah, who’s the babe with Clay? You think that’s…?” Jill tilts her head slightly towards you, wanting to get your insight.
You don’t even have to guess that that’s the woman the blonde was talking to earlier on the phone. As you get closer you realize Clay has his arm wrapped around her as well, and your stomach lurches a bit at the sight.
“Y/N!” Your eyes are immediately averted from Clay’s embrace around his—presumed—girlfriend, and instead become locked in with those of the man in question. Those pale blues look somehow even brighter, happier than they were this morning. From the looks on everyone else’s face as well, you can tell there’s a reason for it.
“Hey, Clay,” you smile, finding yourself and Jill now wrapped up in the small gathering. “What’s going on? What are you doing here so late? Is everything okay?”
“More than okay, Ms. Y/L/N! Clay here is getting his new heart tonight,” Dr. Harper chimes in. The smile that breaks out on your face is uncontrollable.
“What!? Clay, that’s amazing! Congratulations.” For a mere moment it feels like the two of you are the only ones standing there. Clay’s soft, grateful smile causes your cheeks to warm and a sense of adoration to flow through you.
The feeling swiftly leaves though as you pick up movement out of the corner of your eye. All too soon you’re brought back to the reality that you’re in a group of people, and the man you can’t stop fawning over is very much involved with whoever this woman is next to him.
Your eyes flit from Clay’s to the brunette woman’s and somehow Clay seems to pick up on it, lightly shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t introduced you two yet! Sam, this is Y/N, one of the doctors who works with Jack. Y/N, this is Sam; my wife.”
Wife.
The word rings out in your head and you have to fight the way it nearly knocks you off your feet. “H-Hi! It’s so nice to meet you.” You reach out your hand and Sam does the same, your eyes widening at the sight of her wedding ring as she grasps your hand in hers.
You quickly try to recover, not wanting to be too obvious with the way you’re feeling right now. Sam’s smile is big and infectious and you’re sure she doesn’t notice a thing.
Who would, knowing a man like the one next to her is her husband?
Lightly shaking your head, you let go of Sam’s hand and turn towards Jill, needing her now more than ever and also realizing she also deserves an introduction.
“And this is Jill! A friend of mine as well as a fellow doctor.” Jill wastes no time in taking Clay’s gaze off of you, moving in closer and sticking out her hand immediately.
“Hi! So great to officially meet you, Clay!” She says ecstatically before turning her head towards his wife and only slightly losing the excitement. “Sam.”
Clay grasps her hand in his and you can just tell by the look on her face that she’s eating this up. You have to hold yourself back from laughing. “I remember you! I saw you this morning while I was with Dr. Harper, right?”
You swear you see Jill die and then come back to life all in a split second. “Y-Yes, that was me!”
She miraculously lets go of Clay’s hand and you hear her let out a stunned huff as the takes a step back towards you. Not a second later you feel Jill poke you lightly in the side and you know immediately she’s never going to live this moment down.
You cover up the chuckle that escapes you by clearing your throat. As you regain yourself, you watch as Sam looks up at Clay and they seem to share a private moment, even while standing in the middle of a hospital. It’s evident the love they have for each other, the trust and admiration. It’s palpable and makes your heart squeeze, both in envy and despair.
You’d give anything to have a love like that. A man like that. Specifically that man in front of you, if you’re being completely honest.
“You girls heading home for the night?” A voice cuts into your stream of thought and you’re grateful for the opportunity to turn away from Clay and Sam.
It’s Dr. Puttnam, but you’re honestly not even mad about having to talk to him right now. You might even go as far as to say you’re thankful for him…maybe.
“Yeah, our shifts just ended so we’re on our way out,” you reply.
“Really? That’s too bad, I was hoping maybe you’d be here for the surgery. I figured since you work with Jack and all that you’d be in the operating room,” Clay says, drawing your attention right back to him.
“Oh-!” Clay’s words catch you off guard but also leave you feeling flattered. To think he wanted—no, wants—you in the operating room with him, it leaves you practically speechless. “Uh-no, I’m not on your case specifically, but I wouldn’t mind stepping in, if Dr. Harper is-“
“No!” You’re cut off by Harper himself and with his sudden exclamation, your excitement dwindles. An opportunity to be there for Clay in a way you didn’t think was possible would’ve been everything. Even besides that, to step in on a high profile heart transplant surgery this early in your career could’ve opened so many doors for you. You’re confused on the sudden shut down of the idea and by the look on Clay’s face, you’re not the only one. Harper clears his throat and gives a strained smile. “I mean, unfortunately that wouldn’t be possible. Although Y/N is more than capable of taking part in the surgery, due to the severity of this case I must insist we stick with only the original people assigned to this operation. We wouldn’t want to risk anything or have more people in the room than necessary.”
A valid reason, but still a disappointing one nonetheless. You just nod your head understandingly, your lips coming together in a tight line as you try to not let your upset emotions shine through.
“You could stick around in the waiting room with me? If you want to that is, I know you’re just getting off a shift. Clay told me earlier about the conversation he had with you and well, I just know it’d mean a lot to him to know you were around—at least in some capacity—for his surgery.” Your eyes snap to Sam and her offer takes you by surprise.
Damn, she’s nice, too? It’s gonna be really hard to dislike this woman.
You shift your gaze to the blonde before you and he nods his head lightly, encouraging the idea. Your decision is a no brainer. “I’d love to. Anything to help support Clay.”
“Great!” Puttnam cuts in with a clap of his hands. “The more, the merrier! I’m sure your mother will appreciate the company, Clay.”
The doctor looks on with a smile but it immediately drops as he takes in Clay’s concerned expression.
“What? Wait, she’s here?” Clay questions.
Clay and Harper share a look and you try to not come off as nosy as you attempt to read their expressions. It’s clear Dr. Harper and Clay have some sort of understanding with each other. It doesn’t seem odd considering their friendship, but it’s clear there’s some hesitation between them when it comes to Mrs. Beresford, at least from what you can tell.
“What? She’s on the call sheet,” Dr. Puttnam says in defense.
Clay sighs before turning to Sam. “I’m going to go deal with this and then I’ll meet back up with you. I think it’d be best if I just went with Jack to handle my mother.” Sam nods and you watch as the blonde leans in and plants a soft kiss on her forehead before turning back to the group.
You try to make yourself appear as if you didn’t just witness their tender moment by stepping a bit closer to Penny, trying to locate what room they’re gonna have Clay in.
“If you want,” you start, wanting to offer at least some sort of help. “I can take Sam up to the room you’ll be in. She can wait there until you’re ready to get changed for surgery.”
“Thank you, Y/N,” Clay smiles. “That’d be perfect.”
Trying to hide the blush you just know is beginning to coat your cheeks, you smile and nod your head before stepping away towards Jill. The look on her face makes her appear as if she’s just won the lottery and honestly just knowing how Jill is, her talking to Clay is her version of winning the lottery.
You roll your eyes affectionately and smirk as you physically feel how jittery with excitement she is as you pull her closer to you. “Well, I guess this is happening?”
“Holy shit! Yeah this is happening! Look at you getting all cosy with the Beresford family! This morning you didn’t even think you’d ever be in the same room as Clay let alone getting to talk to him and now be his personal on call girl.” There’s a suggestive look on your friend’s face and you feel yourself wanting to curl into a ball over the fact she said that when everyone else is barely five feet away.
“Jill!” You squeak. She begins to laugh and you hate the fact you feel yourself fighting back a chuckle as well. “I can’t believe you.”
“No, I can’t believe you. I’m heading home but go and get cosy with the apparent new Mrs. B.” Jill lowers her voice and leans her head so close to you her forehead nearly knocks into the side of yours. “Maybe you’ll find out she’s really some horrible person and you can swoop in and steal the blonde god that is Clay Beresford away from her.”
“Jill! Never gonna happen!” You playfully push your friend away and watch as she laughs brightly over the whole thing. You just stand there and shake your head, barely noticing the intrigued look on Clay’s face a few feet away from you.
As your friend recollects herself, you let her absurd words float through your mind. You sneak a glance over at the woman in question and find it hard to believe she could have any trace of evil inside of her. Her smile and eyes are too kind, and the literal glow around her as she talks with her husband is unmistakable. It’s clear she makes Clay happy and you’re sure a man as good as Clay Beresford would never fall for someone cruel.
“You never know,” Jill shrugs. She yawns and then continues. “I’m gone, but call me if anything happens! Good or bad, I want the details.”
“Promise! Have a good night, I’ll see you later.” Jill waves in return and as she walks past the small group she wishes Clay ‘good luck’, which he instantly thanks her for.
Even with her back turned you can tell the woman has a smile on her face. You don’t even wanna know the thoughts running through her head right now. The idea makes you chuckle.
Rejoining the group you take in the fact it’s dwindled since you stepped away. All that remains is Clay, Sam, and Dr. Harper.
“Y/N, perfect timing! Dr. Puttnam has gone with Penny to get the operating room ready for Clay. Why don’t you go on ahead with Sam while Clay and I speak with his mother. We hope the conversation won’t be long,” Dr. Harper says before glancing at Clay. “But either way we will meet up with you both and get started right away.”
“Sounds good to me,” you say before turning towards Clay and Sam. “Sam, right this way.”
The brunette smiles at you warmly and you mentally curse yourself for even jokingly thinking about the idea of stealing her new husband from her.
After all, she is just evidently a girl in love trying to live a long, happy life with her husband.
*****
To say the atmosphere has turned a little...chilly would be an understatement. After bringing Sam back to the waiting room, it wasn't long before Clay's mother joined you two. She greeted you kindly, asked a few questions, and thanked you for staying to support her son. But the minute Sam tried to insert herself into the conversation, tried to find some connection with Clay's mom, Lilith immediately shut her down. Lilith wasn't very receptive to anything Sam had to say, which made having any conversation with the both of them basically impossible, to put it lightly.
So now you find yourself practically trapped between these two women who clearly have some sort of history, anxiously watching the time tick by on the clock you've had your eyes glued to for some time now. Lilith's occupied herself with some playing cards she had in her purse and Sam twiddles aimlessly with her thumbs, no doubt feeling anxious not only about Clay but also due to the tension between herself and his mother.
"Miss, uh..." The deep baritone of the nurse's voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you immediately hone in on the chance he might be bringing news of Clay. "Ramos?"
Your shoulders slump down in rejection, feeling no closer to getting any answers than you did before the nurse walked in. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he goes and sits down in one of the waiting room chairs close to Sam. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you wonder what it is he could want from her.
"Hi, how you doin'?" He asks Sam and you can tell she's having non of it as she replies with a cool 'hey'. "Can I help you with something?"
Wow, he's persistent, you think.
You go to roll your eyes, picking up on the fact that clearly this guy is trying to hit on Sam. Which, if you think about it, is a little sick considering where you are currently. Obviously that doesn't deter some people.
"Haven't I seen you around?" You lift your head up and look over at the pair, finding it odd the nurse would even say that. You assume if he has seen her around, she'd be with Clay and this guy would know she's taken. You mentally brush it off, this is probably just part of his game to get Sam's number.
The need to maybe step in on Sam's behalf is abruptly pushed to the side as you see Sam hold up her hand, proudly showing off her engagement and wedding ring.
You can't help the tiny smirk that graces your lips as you watch the nurse sigh and slouch down in defeat. Sam shut that down real quick. The nurse mumbles an apology before rushing off back to his job.
"You have two rings on your finger." Your smirk disappears as you hear Lilith speak up from beside you. It's the first time she's spoken to Sam directly since you got to the waiting room. Something tells you this is not gonna be good.
"What was that?" Sam questions barely above a whisper. She's probably just as shocked as you this interaction is happening.
"Why are you wearing two rings, Sam?" The way Lilith questions it, you know she already knows the answer and she is not happy about it.
Holy shit, you think. She had no idea her own son got married.
Things just got a whole lot more interesting.
Sam stays silent and it doesn't take long for Lilith to question, "When?"
"Just before he got the call," Sam shrugs, looking timid. Clay's mom sighs and quickly looks away from her, finding the playing cards she's been shuffling way more interesting than whatever it is her apparent daughter-in-law has to say.
"Lilith," Sam pleads, but it's no use as Lilith refuses to look up.
Yikes. Maybe I should've sat on the other side, you think. You feel at any moment those playing cards could go flying and you really don't feel like being in the middle of that cat fight.
Clearing your throat in the least awkward way as possible, you get up and head for the vending machine a few feet in front of you. Maybe a little refreshment will do you some good. It is Halloween after all, you deserve a sweet treat.
As you pick which of the drinks it is you want, you remember the tidbit Sam tried to give Clay's mom earlier when she first walked into the waiting room. You hold down a bit longer on the button and feel satisfied as you watch your treat get released to you.
Bending down to grab your drink, you startle a little as a crash sounds from behind you. You turn your head and watch as Sam hurries to the floor, a bunch of orange pill bottles scattered around her. She must've dropped her purse.
"Oh, shit!" She exclaims, trying to catch some of the bottles before they roll away. You go to help her pick them up, but you stop as she begins to speak, clearly to Lilith. "Levatol, Enalapril, Digoxin. He likes me to carry them around. If I left it up to him he'd be popping 'em like M&Ms. He could OD on these things, you know?"
Sam finishes gathering all the bottles and goes back to the chair she was sitting in. "Can't say I'll miss them. A lot of cute purses I haven't been able to use over the last year."
"I didn't know you did that," Lilith says softly, looking down at the ground. It's obvious she's taking in the fact Sam cares deeply for Clay. Why else would she cart around all his medicines like that? You don't do that for someone you're not serious about. "That you carried his meds around."
It feels as if there's about to be some big turning point for the two women right now, so you stay hovering by the vending machine, not wanting to get in the way of whatever moment they're about to have. You only hope it turns out well and doesn't become a screaming match.
"I tried not to like him. I honestly did," Sam starts. "Lilith, I know how much he means to you."
"What do you want from me, Sam?" Lilith asks defensively. You barely know the woman and yet you can tell all of this is incredibly hard for her to fathom. Her son got married right under her nose and now he's in a life threatening surgery that she has no idea if he'll survive. You can't even imagine where her head must be at right now.
"I want you to tell him that he's as good as his father. I want you to tell him that it's okay to love me, and I want you to tell me that it's okay to love him back. He's already lost one parent, he can't lose another. He needs you. I'm not a bad person. I mean if you could just give us your blessing—"
There's a rawness and urgency in Sam's tone. At this point she has nothing left to lose. It's clear she's hanging on to every second Lilith is giving her, using every bit of that time to try and convince this powerful woman that she's deserving of her son. A part of you aches for her. To have a love you're willing to fight for is a rare thing, and you think anyone who's willing to sacrifice everything for the one they love deserves happiness.
"Okay, just stop talking." Lilith holds up her hand and that immediately causes Sam to halt her efforts. You prepare for the worst, but what Clay's mom does next shocks you. "Just make sure he takes his meds and...stop talking."
"What?" Sam asks, her eyes going slightly wide at Lilith's...acceptance?
"He has horrible allergies. Did you know that? Especially in the spring. Grass and flowers." You watch as Sam wastes no time in wrapping her arms around Lilith, bringing her in for a long awaited hug. The sight makes you smile. "Don't think this means I'm gonna be visiting every week."
Sam holds on a little longer and you can see Lilith start to stiffen a bit at the contact. She's not fully there yet, but you can tell this family is going to be okay. You may not know the whole story, but it's clear there's a lot of love involved. "Okay. Okay, let go. All right." Lilith chuckles a little and the two of them break apart, settling back into each of their respective seats.
You take this as your sign that it's all clear to take your seat again. You walk up and catch Sam's eye, you give her a warm smile and she gives you one in return. That glow she had around Clay earlier is back and you can tell this interaction she had with Lilith has lifted her spirits. That little envious feeling you had earlier too comes back, but you push it aside. Now is not the time.
As you sit down in between Sam and Lilith again, you open your drink and take a long sip. The cool liquid runs down your throat and you relish in the refreshing feeling. It feels like you've all been here for ages. You're starting to pick up on the feeling your friends and family must've had when you had your own heart transplant surgery. This waiting game is definitely not easy, and you'd give anything to get some answers.
Clay's wife must feel the same because not a second later she leans towards you and Lilith. "You know what? I'm gonna try and find out what's going on."
You both give Sam nods of encouragement, seeing it as the best bet. You thought about maybe trying to use your status as an employee as leverage to try and get some information, but the fact you're off the clock mixed with the fact you're not part of Clay's family had you second guessing doing that. Thankfully Sam's taking one for the team. "Sit tight, you two. I'll be right back."
The brunette walks off towards two doctors who have congregated in the hallway and you strain your ears to try and hear what they have to say, it's useless though, everyone talking in hushed tones.
There's a doctor in blue scrubs off to the right of Sam and you watch as he makes his way towards her. You've personally never seen him around before, but maybe he's new or he's been called in to help on a surgery. Whatever the case may be, you just hope he has some answers about Clay and his condition.
"You're not a doctor at this hospital!" You hear Sam bite out, and the comment leaves you confused. "I mean, you don't work here, do you?" She finishes in hushed tones, but it's just loud enough for you to hear, and by the looks of it so did Lilith. The two of you share a puzzling look, not understanding why Sam would say something like that. You chalk it up to the fact maybe Sam just hasn't seen this specific doctor before. You're sure she's decently familiar with Clay's team, so of course she'd have some questions if someone completely new is working on his surgery.
You give Lilith an assuring smile, trying to ease any worries she may have. She gives you one too, but you can tell it's not genuine. She goes back to holding her scarf close to her chest, no doubt what she's using to ground herself, and you mentally sigh. As with any patient's family, you want to give Lilith some sort of comfort to hold onto. A positive update. Good news on Clay's recovery. Anything at all. But alas, you're not able to offer anything and that alone breaks your heart.
Sam walks away from the doctor and you watch as she retreats down a hallway. You're not sure where she plans on going or how she plans on getting some answers, but maybe she knows something you don't. Clay is a high profile patient, to be fair. She could know a way to get access that you haven't heard of yet. Whatever it is Sam is doing, you just hope she's quick. You're not sure how much longer Lilith will be able to hold out without any information.
*****
It seems like hours before Sam makes her way back to the waiting room. In reality it was probably only ten to fifteen minutes, but every minute feels like an hour when it comes to something like this.
As the newest Mrs. Beresford walks towards you and Lilith, you watch as Clay's mother immediately springs to her feet.
"Is he okay? Is everything okay?"
"They wouldn't say," Sam offers. All that time gone and she has nothing to report? There's a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that says none of this is right, things aren't adding up, but you let it go the minute you catch a glimpse of Lilith's face; a mix of both relief at no bad news, but also nerves from no good news either.
"You were gone so long. I started—" Lilith rolls her head back, her shoulders slumping.
"I know, I know. I'm scared too," Sam sympathizes.
The brunette rubs the arms of the older woman before leading her back to her chair. She smiles and nods at you, and you try your best not to make anything of her shifty gaze. It feels almost as if she doesn't want you too close, seeing past anything she's giving Lilith.
It must be paranoia, nothing solid has happened to make it seem like something is going on. Sam is a nice girl, she probably can just tell you have the hots for her husband, and as the clock ticks closer and closer to his surgery finishing, you're sure she's just becoming a little uncomfortable sharing such a personal time with you.
You technically are just a random doctor she met today who had a heartfelt conversation with her significant other and is now sitting with her and her mother-in-law during his life altering surgery. When you put it into perspective, the untrustworthy atmosphere seems to make a bit more sense.
Shaking it off, you readjust yourself in your chair. With no news at all, who knows how much longer it's going to be. Might as well get comfortable.
*****
"Something's wrong." Lilith's voice breaks you out of the trance you've found yourself in. For who knows how long now you've been trying to ground yourself. You're not sure why you're feeling so affected. Maybe it's because you do have a soft spot for Clay. Maybe it's the realization of how scary it is to care for someone going through a heart transplant. Maybe it's a coping mechanism to try and tune out the fact the three of you haven't spoken since Sam came back, anxiety striking you all silent. "I can feel that something's wrong."
"What Is it?" You ask Lilith, noticing her stricken expression the moment you look towards her.
"I can't just sit here like this. They should have told us something by now."
Sam straightens in her seat beside you, no doubt gearing up to try and calm Clay's mom. "Listen to me."
"No, you don't understand. He's not just my son. I was a kid when I had him."
"He's gonna be fine," Sam assures, shifting her gaze between Lilith and you, nodding her head. Your nervousness is probably written all over your face.
"We've grown up together. It's me and him," Lilith continues.
Sam has a contemplative look on her face, and you find yourself having deja vu. You take this as your opportunity to offer Lilith some comfort and advice, much like you did with Clay earlier today. Although, that seems so long ago now.
"He's not gonna die. Not now, not today," you say as you turn your body towards her. Confidence—or something—must overtake you because you find yourself reaching for her hand, feeling the slight shake in them. A mother's worries.
"How can you be so sure?" She whispers, not pulling away from your light grip.
With all the sincerity you can muster you whisper to her, "Because he's got too much to live for."
You can see the shimmer of tears brimming Lilith's eyes as she takes in your words. In an instant, you feel her squeeze your hand, no doubt trying to thank you for your words without having to actually say so, her voice unreliable at this point with the amount of emotion lodged in her throat.
You simply nod your head, letting her know you understand completely. What you said isn't bullshit, it's genuinely how you feel. It's clear as day that Clay is surrounded by two women who love him very much. There's no doubt in your mind that he laid down on that operating table today with every intention of waking up and going back to them.
The thought squeezes your own heart that you fought so hard for. To love is to be loved, and you're happy that Clay has a good support system around him to guide him through what is no doubt going to be hell for a little while. You remember your own restless days and recovery process. Lilith and Sam may not know exactly what Clay is gonna go through, but you're sure they'll do all they can to help him.
*****
You're the first to notice Dr. Harper walking towards you along with the doctor Sam was talking to earlier. You lightly tap both Lilith and Sam with each of your hands to grab their attention. This is it.
"So?" Lilith questions after getting to her feet. Harper immediately shakes his head and your stomach drops.
"He rejected the heart." Four words. Four words is all it takes to completely throw you off balance. "We did everything we could, but the organ failed, and I am so sorry."
No, there's no way.
You feel Sam fall to her seat beside you and you wonder how it must feel for her. She married the love of her life not even a day ago and in just a few hours she lost him. You can't imagine a worse heartbreak.
"The organ failed?" Lilith questions, disbelief evident in her voice.
"Yes, it wouldn't respond to the procedure. But in cases like this, it's not uncommon for—"
"Don't you mean you failed?" Lilith cuts him off, and you can tell at any minute she might lose it. You can't blame her, you'd do the same in her position. You're positive Dr. Harper did all he can to save Clay, but this was a risk you were all well aware of. You just never thought it'd actually happen.
"No, we...we did everything that we could. It's just an imperfect procedure." Harper shakes his head and you can tell by the look on his face that this has broken him just as much as the rest of you. You don't know him or Clay that well, but it's clear they had a genuine friendship. He will never recover from this.
"Say it," Lilith bites out.
"Say what?"
"I wanna hear you say it. I wanna hear you say you failed my son." Dr. Harper stands there in shock as Lilith walks away from him and sits on the opposite side of the aisle of chairs. "It shouldn't have been you. It should never have been you. I fucking knew it."
"I'm sorry, Sam." Harper whispers before slightly turning and barely meeting your eyes. "Y/N."
He leaves the room and all that's left is you, Sam, Lilith, and the doctor Sam was talking to earlier. You find yourselves in utter silence. No other sounds can be heard besides the distant noises of other lives being saved and others being unfortunately lost. You think about how many more families will be devastated tonight just like the Beresfords. The thought pains you.
"I'm afraid we're gonna need your permission to take him off bypass." The doctor's words cause you to glance up at him. He stands tentatively at Mrs. Beresford's side.
"What?" She asks, looking over at him with tears streaming down her face.
"We'll need your permission," He says again, taking a seat next to her. "I'm so sorry to have to ask."
"I don't understand," Lilith shakes her head. "He's alive."
"Yes, but his blood's being pumped by a machine. He has no heart."
You squeeze your eyes shut, hating the image that's planted itself in your mind. You've seen countless people be put on bypass, it's your job, but it makes you feel sick to think about Clay being in that position with no way out. His chest open on that table with no heart inside to make him better again. You hate it. He deserved better.
"Then get him another heart," Clay's mother demands, not understanding the full severity of the situation. There is no other heart. You've heard enough about Clay and his case to know this one was a miracle as it is. To get another heart on such short notice, whilst also not having Clay on bypass for too long a time, is impossible.
"You don't understand. His blood type's too rare. We don't have one. I'm sorry. It's over." The doctor explains softly. Lilith merely thanks him before standing up and making her way to the corner of the waiting room, scarf still clutched in her hands.
"I'll be in the hallway," the doctor says before walking away form you all.
"Lilith," Sam says as she gets up from her seat.
"Could you leave me alone for a minute?" Lilith stops her in her tracks, not wanting Sam's comfort right now.
"Okay," she complies before walking away, going who knows where.
For a moment it's just you and Clay's mom. Nothing is said between the two of you, but just by looking at her you can tell she's struggling to keep it together.
You stand, taking a small step closer to the woman before softy calling out her name. "Lilith."
Suddenly, her eyes narrow slightly, a look of determination overtaking her grief-stricken features. "I'm going to the cafeteria. I need a moment alone."
She doesn't even await your answer as she swiftly makes her way around the chairs and towards the hallway, but not before snatching Sam's purse out of one of the chairs. You don't even question it at this point, you'd do just about anything else before standing in the way of a grieving mother.
*****
Time passes, and that nagging feeling you had earlier that something is severely wrong comes crawling back. Lilith still isn't back from the cafeteria yet, and you haven't seen Sam since Lilith asked her to leave.
You do the only thing that feels right. You go after Lilith. She's Clay's mother. If something is going on, she'd be the only one you could trust to tell you the truth. You need to talk to her, see if she feels the same way. You don't understand how this all could've gone south so fast.
Quickly making your way to the cafeteria, you looking around at all the tables and chairs, trying to find Lilith as quickly as possible. When you do finally spot her, what you see has your breath catching in your throat.
"Lilith!" You cry, rushing over to her secluded table. When you reach her, she's just finished shoving multiple pills in her mouth. You recognize the bottles as the same ones that fell out of Sam's purse earlier. Lilith has taken Clay's medication. She's trying to OD. "What have you done!? I need to get help."
Before you're able to rush off and call someone over to help you, Lilith has her hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "No! Please, don't."
"Why are you doing this? What's going on? I came to find you because I think something's wrong with what happened to Clay but-but-" You feel tears start to brim your eyes. Even though you hardly know the woman before you, you can't imagine her taking her own life. The pain she must be feeling is insurmountable, but she can't do this. She can't.
"Let me explain, please. I don't have much time." Lilith urges you to sit down and you do so immediately. The quicker she gets out whatever she needs to say, the quicker you can go for help and save her life. There's no way you're losing both Beresfords tonight.
"What is it?" You urge, leaning towards her in your seat, the anticipation and stress eating you up.
"I had a feeling something was going on, I knew it from the beginning, but I kept telling myself I was just paranoid. My suspicions were confirmed though when I found this." Lilith pauses to reach into Sam's purse, pulling out a small stack of envelopes and handing them to you.
"What is this?" You look down at the letters Lilith has given you and your eyebrows furrow in confusion when you notice Sam's name on them. Except, on each letter, she has one of two different last names. On some of her letters her name is Samantha Lockwood, but on others, specifically one from Varick University (a nursing school), it says her name is Samantha Tunnell. You feel like you're gonna throw up, quickly catching on to where this might be going.
"She's not who she says she is. It only took me a second to put it together after that. She's been to this hospital before. Think about it; the vending machine she somehow knew how to work? The nurse asking if he'd seen her before? Her saying one of Clay's doctors didn't work at this hospital? How would she know any of that stuff? I don't know the exact specifics, but they're all in on it, all of them! They tried to kill my son, they are killing him unless I do something about it."
"Lilith, I'm sorry there's nothing we can do. There's no other heart for Clay. His blood type—"
"Is the same as mine."
Lilith's sentence sends your mind reeling. Suddenly, the picture becomes clear.
She's going to give him her heart.
"Lilith, if what you're saying is true—"
"It is, and I need you to let me do it. I've already called Dr. Neyer, he's on his way to perform the transplant, I don't trust anyone else. It's happening and it's happening fast so please, listen to me. I need you to do me a favor, Y/N."
You're stunned silent. There are no words to describe what's happening right now. It was just supposed to be a heart transplant. The anticipation of waiting for Clay to make it out on the other side was supposed to be the most nerve-racking event of the day, but suddenly his murder plot is.
Trusted medical staff. His best friend. His wife. All in on it. Your stomach churns and your heart races, but as you stare at Lilith, you realize just how serious she is. How dead set she is on changing the story these horrible people have written.
Gone is the poised woman who was married to a business tycoon. What remains is merely a mother doing everything she can to save her only child. You'd find it admirable if you weren't already feeling so frightened and worried about it all.
What she's set in motion cannot be undone, and as she stares at you eagerly, hoping you'll agree, you can't help but to take a leap of faith and do just that. "What can I do to help you?"
"Hold onto those letters like your life depends on it. Give them to the police directly the minute they get here. She cannot and will not get away with this. None of them will. But most importantly, what I need you to do is look after my son."
Lilith reaches out and grasps your hands in hers, much like you did earlier when you were assuring her Clay would not die today. Unlike earlier, though, her hands are no longer trembling. She is the most stoic you've seen her all day, and her determination is slowly but surely rubbing off on you.
"Lilith, I—" You can't find the right words to reply to her with. Obviously turning in evidence to the police is a no brainer, but looking after Clay? A man you met not even 24 hours ago. Your heart knows it's right, but your head is trying to reason otherwise.
"It's okay, I know it's a big ask, but please Y/N. Clay will have no one else on his side after tonight. I know you just met me, just met him, but for some reason I trust you wholly. I can tell your heart is pure. You stayed by Clay's side just for the mere fact you wanted to be there for him. You know personally what he's gonna go through after he wakes up from that surgery. I have no one else to turn to, no one else to ask. I know it's not fair of me, but I need you. He needs you."
Your heart swells. Emotions run wild through your mind, only one thought clear amongst the chaos. You have to do this, you have to do what she's asking. You want to. God knows no one else will get it all like you do. No one else will understand Clay and be there for him to answer any questions he may have. You truly will be all he's got.
With tears slipping down your cheeks, you nod your head. "Yes, absolutely. I'll do it, Lilith. I promise I won't let you down, I won't let Clay down."
"Good," she smiles, her eyes starting to droop closed. No doubt the concoction of pills she downed working their way through her bloodstream. Any minute now her body will shut down. Her heart will stop beating. She'll never wake up again. "Now hurry. Go find Neyers. He should be here any minute if he's not already. Bring him here and make sure he gets started right away. Clay doesn't have much time."
Noting your head, you stand up from the table, removing one of your hands from Lilith's grasp to wipe away your endless tears. Before you can take back your other hand, Clay's mother squeezes it tightly, causing you to look directly at her.
"Thank you," she whispers, her body slumping back in her chair, her head beginning to lean on the wall to her right. "Clay deserves someone like you."
You smile weakly at the woman, your heart squeezing for more reasons than one. "Goodbye, Lilith."
The older woman lets go of your hand and uses it to prop her head up. To anyone walking by she just looks like a tired loved one, looking to pass the time in the hospital cafeteria. But you know what's really going on. You watch as her breathing slows, her chest rising and falling less and less as the seconds tick by. It'll be any second now, but you can't bear to witness her final moment. Instead, you do as she asked and haul ass to the hospital entrance, looking for the man who's going to save the life of the Beresford heir.
*****
Knowing Clay was going under the knife a second time was no easier than the first time. Dr. Neyer is an incredibly capable doctor, but considering the events of today, you could say you're still a bit uneasy.
There was no way you were going back to that waiting room from earlier, you'd rather walk around aimlessly for hours instead of reliving those moments again and again in your mind. You're beating yourself up over the fact you didn't truly notice anything was off earlier. If you just would've trusted your gut feeling a little more or asked a few more questions, maybe things could've been different.
You shake those thoughts away, though, knowing there's nothing to be done now. What's done is done and all you can do is hope and wait for Clay to get out of that surgery safe and sound.
After meeting up with Neyer and the police, you discovered they already caught Puttnam and Penny. They're still looking for Harper and Sam, but you're sure they'll catch them soon. They're in this hospital somewhere and there's no way they're coming out of it without wearing handcuffs. There's officers at every exit, so it's just a matter of time.
Your sadness and confusion has morphed into anger now. You feel betrayed for Clay and his family, and you feel betrayed for yourself for the fact these doctors you trusted turned out to be nothing but heartless, greedy monsters. These people who you looked up to, who you wanted to be like, are nothing but frauds.
Heat starts to travel up your neck, and the feeling only intensifies when a loud noise ahead of you catches your attention and you spot a familiar brunette trying to open a locked door.
"Hey, Mrs. Beresford," you call out, Sam's head instantly snapping in your direction. "Or should I call you Ms. Lockwood? Or Ms. Tunnell? Or I know! How about just Sam? Considering that seems to be the only name that stays consistent through all your different identities."
Samantha smirks as she stalks towards you, a look of smugness all over her face. It's hilarious how she clearly thinks she's won. If only she knew how far from the truth that is.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she sighs. "All I'm doing is looking for some answers on my husband's death. I'm just the grieving widow, remember?"
Your blood boils at her comments. How dare she feign innocence when she's probably the one who killed Clay. Your mind goes back to when she was gone from the waiting room for so long, looking for updates on Clay's surgery. She was probably meeting up with all of them, planning on what they were gonna do next. It takes everything in you not to lunge for the woman before you.
"Cut the shit, Sam! I know what you did, and so do the police. Nice work on carrying around your mail with you. Couldn't even cover up your tracks properly. You'll never get away with this no matter how hard you try or how many fake tears you cry."
Sam's smirk falters. She knows she's caught. You can see the realization flash in her eyes. Her mistakes, her missteps, her failures.
"Oh, please," she scoffs, trying to gain back the upper hand. "And who are you, exactly? Nothing but a wannabe surgeon with a little crush on someone else's husband. Real nice."
"Yeah? At least I'm not a killer. And unlike you, I am a surgeon, which is more than you'll ever be while you're locked up behind bars." Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to the side and call over your shoulder, "She's over here, officers!"
Sam's eyes widen, quickly realizing you had her right where you wanted her. You saw the police officers coming up the hallway off to your right, you just had to buy them some time so they could catch up to you and arrest Sam once and for all.
Now it's your turn to have the smug look on your face as the officers rush past you and get Sam down on the ground. She never even had a chance to try and outrun them.
Walking over to the woman on the ground, you squat down to try and be more in her line of vision. You really wanna make sure she understands the words you're about to utter.
"Oh and, Sam?" You start, practically batting your eyelashes at her as she glares at you. "It's ex-husband now. And trust me, I'll take real good care of him for you."
The woman practically screams as you stand back up and turn on your heel towards the recovery rooms. Clay will be out of surgery soon and you wanna make sure you're there for him when he wakes up.
As you turn the corner, you spare a quick glance back down the way you came. Although you wish everything that happened today never occurred, it gives you great satisfaction to see the officers yank Sam up off the ground and practically drag her towards the exit.
Good, you think. She'll get what she deserves.
*****
After several more hours, you've found yourself sat in a recovery room. Finally.
Not long after the police apprehended Sam, they found Harper and arrested him. He was just sat in his office, evidence laid out on his desk. He was ready for them. If you had to guess, he's probably the only one out of that group who genuinely feels remorse for what they did. You find it hard to sympathize with him at this current moment, though.
Dr. Neyer informed you the surgery went well. They lost Clay right at the end but thankfully were able to bring him back one final time. He lays in front of you now on a hospital bed, the beeping of his heart monitor and his soft breathing the only sounds filling the room.
It's been a few hours since they brought Clay here, and you used that time to catch up on some much needed sleep after being up for nearly twenty-four hours. It was a quick nap, but you feel much better.
You're still trying to process everything that happened. Even with Clay laying here in front of you like this, you and him being the only ones in the room, it still doesn't feel real. Part of you thinks that maybe you'll wake up at any moment and it'll all have been a dream. Another part of you worries that it's all too real, and that there's a chance Clay might not wake up.
Dr. Neyers stopped in a few minutes ago and informed you that Clay should be waking up any minute now. He might be a bit groggy but he would be awake nonetheless.
You’ve practically jumped out of your seat every other second since then each time you thought you saw movement. So far still nothing, but you’re hopeful it’ll be soon. You need it to be. You promised Clay’s mom you’d look after him, and you don’t plan on breaking that promise anytime soon.
Sighing, you get up from your spot in the chair next to Clay’s bed and instead take a seat to the left of him, your hip brushing his blanket covered thigh as you try not to fall off the side.
He looks peaceful as he lays there sleeping. So innocent from all the horrors that went on while he was in surgery. You dread the moment you’ll have to fill him in on all that happened. When you’ll have to tell him his mom—the woman he loves so dearly—is dead.
Emotion floods you and you try not to let it take you over. Instead you reach forward and grab Clay’s right hand in yours. His skin is warm and soft under your touch and you find comfort in it. You hope that when he does wake up, he’ll find comfort in yours too.
Rubbing your thumb back and forth over Clay’s knuckles, you look over at the EKG machine he’s hooked up to. His heart rate is steady, strong. You’re glad he made it out of the surgery, it’s rare people make it out of one transplant, yet alone two on the same day. Clay’s strong, you know he’ll get through this. He has to. His mom died to save his life and you don’t know a worse tragedy than one where neither one of them makes it out of this. The thought alone—
Your head snaps forward instantly. You wait a second and when it happens again you know you’re not just imagining it.
Clay’s hand squeezed yours. Twice!
Leaning forward, you watch as Clay’s eyes shift back and forth under his eyelids before finally, finally, they open. Immediately you’re met with two pale blue eyes.
He’s awake.
“Clay,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him. His eyes quickly find yours and you smile as you feel him squeeze your hand again. “Hey there. You’re okay, it’s all gonna be okay.”
Clay tilts his head to the side and you watch as he feebly attempts to sit up, no doubt trying to get some water. He winces and gives up immediately. You know that pain all too well.
“I got it, it’s okay. Don’t move.” Reaching over, you grab the small cup of water you poured a bit earlier incase Clay wanted it when he woke up. You hold the straw for him and bring it forward, allowing him to take a few sips. He tilts his head back when he’s done and you place the cup back on his bedside table.
“Thank you,” he croaks out, his voice raspier than normal. Even though you figured that would be the case, the deeper sound still takes you by surprise. You try not to take enjoyment in the sound, all things considered.
The blonde clears his throat and reality hits you as you realize you’ll now have to do the thing you’ve been dreading; telling Clay everything. You’re not sure where to begin, but you figure the beginning is probably the best place to start.
“Clay,” you say, uneasiness already settling in your voice. “I have to tell you something.”
A beat passes and as you go to continue, Clay beats you to it. “My mother is dead.”
Your eyes widen at his words. “How-How do you know that?”
He closes his eyes and takes a breath before saying, “I know everything. About Jack, Puttnam, and Penny. About-About Sam.” Pain crosses Clay’s features, but you’d bet anything that this time it isn’t physical. “When I was under, I wasn’t actually asleep. I don’t know how to describe it other than saying it was an out of body experience. I saw everything, heard everything, felt everything.”
“Oh, Clay,” you sigh, your heart breaking at his words. Immediately you know what he’s referring to. Intraoperative awareness is rare, and to think Clay was experiencing it during one of the worst possible surgeries and during one of the worst possible times absolutely blows your mind. What did he ever do to deserve this?
“What do you remember last?” You ask him. You don’t want to push Clay, but you need to know if there’s any gaps you need to fill in for him. Does he know he’s safe? Does he know everyone who tried to hurt him last night is never going to get near him again?
“The last thing I remember is talking to my mother,” he says it almost as a whisper and the sound nearly brings tears to your eyes. “She told me what she did, what she asked you to do. I get why she did it, but God, I just—“
Clay cuts himself off, tears beginning to fall from his eyes and down his pale cheeks. The sight tears you in two and causes tears of your own to fall.
“I’m so sorry, Clay.” Your voice cracks, the ability to hide any emotion completely disappearing. You reach out and brush away some of Clay’s tears with your thumb. The man practically melts into your touch and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to just wrap him in your arms and tell him it’s all gonna be okay.
“Did the cops catch them all, at least?” There’s resentment in his tone that you don’t blame him for at all. You can’t even begin to imagine the betrayal he must feel right now.
“Every single one of them. They’re all on their way to the station right now if they’re not already there. The evidence is solid, they’re never gonna see the light of day again and if they do it’ll be when they’re old and gray. You’re safe, Clay. I promise you that.”
The businessman nods his head and you can see him relax a little bit more. Silence settles over the two of you again, but it’s comfortable. Clay has also retaken ahold of your hand and this time he’s the one rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
Even though he’s the one that’s been through hell, he’s trying to comfort you. The thought makes you chuckle lightly and Clay smiles at the sound.
“Before all the doctors and cops realize I’m awake and start flooding in, I just wanted to say thank you and I’m sorry.” The blue-eyed man looks at you sincerely and you find yourself trying to hold back a frown.
“Clay, you don’t have to thank me for anything, and you have nothing to be sorry for. You had no control over what happened to you, over what these people did to you and your family.”
“I know, but you also didn’t have to get wrapped up in it. I should never have asked you to stay earlier. You were going home and I should’ve respected that and let you go. And my mother asking you to look after me? It’s too much, you don’t deserve—“
“Clay Beresford, stop it right now. Don’t you dare feel guilty about anything. No one forced me to stay here and no one forced me to accept what your mother was asking of me. I did it all on my own. The first time we spoke I told you that no matter what I’d be here for you, in whatever way you may need me, and I meant that. No matter what happened or no matter what will happen, I’m here for you and I don’t want you to ever feel like that’s a burden on me. That you’re a burden on me. We met for a reason and even though what’s happened after that is horrible, I will never take that for granted. I care about you, Clay, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”
Clay just lays there and smiles up at you, reveling in the passionate look on your face and in your eyes. He saw it yesterday when you guys met and talked about his fears and thoughts on the surgery. He admires your ability to speak your mind and stand up for what you believe in and how you feel. People like you are rare to him, and he feels incredibly lucky to have found you.
“You don’t know how badly I wish I could hug you right now.” The two of you burst into laughter but Clay’s laughs are suddenly cut short when he groans at the ache in his chest. “Ugh, I’m definitely not gonna get used to that.”
You try to tame your laughter, not wanting to trigger Clay to start laughing and hurt himself again. “Trust me when I say it’ll get better…eventually.”
Clay smirks before sighing, his eyes finding yours. “Seriously, though. Thank you for everything. I can’t imagine not having you by my side right now or what would’ve happened if I didn’t have that conversation with you yesterday. I hope you know how much I appreciate you, no matter how little time we’ve known each other.”
Heat rises up your neck and into your cheeks at his kind words. To think this is where you’ve found yourself when you didn’t even personally know this man twenty-four hours ago. It’s funny how life works sometimes. “You’re welcome, Clay. I appreciate you too.”
As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door and not a second later Dr. Neyers walks in, clipboard in hand. “Good morning, Clayton. We have a lot to discuss.”
Clay nods his head and the two of you share a look. Clay would never say it, but you know he thinks it’s best if he handles this part on his own. He and Neyers have a lot to go over and you’re sure the officers that were walking around the hall earlier will be in to speak with him soon as well. You’ll be here when he needs you, though. You always will.
“I’m gonna go grab something from the cafeteria. I’ll be back, but call me if you need me.” Clay nods his head and you quickly grab his cellphone from the table before placing it next to his hand. That way he won’t have to try and reach for it if he does need you before you get back.
Dr. Neyers gives you a small smile before you walk out of the room and close the door behind you. The click of the door handle fills the silence of the empty hallway and you find yourself grateful for it. You were worried your coworkers would be standing around waiting for any and all updates on Clay, and more specifically you and Clay.
When you were making your way to Clay’s room after the surgery, you caught a few of the nurses and other residents whispering to each other in the hall, no doubt trying to figure out why you’re suddenly involved in Clay’s case. You definitely can’t wait to see what the story is when you come back to work tomorrow. This hospital sure is gossipy.
The walk to the cafeteria is peaceful, though, and that’s only broken when your phone starts buzzing in your bag. You reach in and grab it and nearly laugh out loud at the message on your screen.
Jill:
Umm why did I just overhear people talking about you being here all night with Clay!? What happened, is he okay??? And why are there cops all over the place??? Fill me in on everything!!!
Oh, God, you think. Where do I even begin?
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen x you#hayden christensen x female reader#hayden christensen x y/n#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen imagines#clay beresford#clay beresford x reader#clay beresford x you#clay beresford x y/n#clay beresford imagines#clay beresford fanfiction#requested
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getaway car • coming soon
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: hansol vernon chwe x f.reader
↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmate au??, neighbors to lovers, non idol au
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k and counting
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mc boyfriend is a jerk, the mc ex is physically cheating, mc is emotional cheating, protected sex, starting to have sex in the shower, lots of emotions
an: this was inspired by the song getaway car by taylor swift. This another one of my stories inspired by reputation songs. This can be read as a one shot but these guys and there friends are mention in a series of loosely connected stories called all for you
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PREVIEW
Opening your phone you hit Vernon contact. Holding your phone to your ear it rings about five times before he answers the phone.
“Is everything okay?” It’s rare you call him let alone in the middle of the night.
“Not really. I’m outside, can you let me in,” you start to cry again.
“Yeah.”
Moments later he opens the door quickly. He’s just in a pair of boxer briefs. He must have been in bed already.
“I’m sorry,” you say as tears slide down your cheek.
He doesn’t say anything. He takes your hand leading you into his apartment he shares with Chan and Seokmin.
He shut the door, locking it. He hesitates for a moment before he rests his hand on your cheek and gently wipes away your tears.
“I told him I’m done. He came home after midnight with lipstick stained on his collar. I don’t wanna do this anymore. He doesn’t love me and I can’t love him anymore. I don't love him anymore.” You lean into his touch.
“I’m glad you left him. He doesn’t deserve you.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. You’re sorry for so many things. You know he cares for you and that he probably has always romantically liked you for a while just like you have. And no matter what you do you hurt him in one way or another.
“Stop saying that. You have nothing to apologize to me for.” He gives you a gentle smile.
“Can we go to your room? I don’t want to bother the boys. It’s already so late and I already woke you up.”
Reaching down he takes your hand in his for the first time and leads you to his room. He shuts the door and releases your hand. “Would you mind if I stayed with you tonight?”
“Of course you can stay here.” You’ve never been so happy you stormed out of the house in your pajamas. “Did you want me to take the couch?”
“No, I was hoping I could sleep in your bed with you. I just really want to hold your hand.”
He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips. You crawl under the covers and watch as Vernon turns the light on and crawls into bed next to you. You both lay there facing each other. There is a gap between you. Laying your hand there you want to be close to him. You want him to hold you and to kiss you and tell you you’ll be okay. But that is too much to ask of him.
There is always something about Vernon that he’s always been able to read you. He must notice you’re struggling. He reaches out, taking your hand in his.
“I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I don’t want to live in a building that is haunted with memories of him and I.”
He takes a deep breath squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to. I’ll help you pack your things when he’s gone to work.”
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#seventeen x reader#seventeen reactions#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fanfic#vernon chwe smut#vernon chwe x reader#vernon chwe imagine#vernon chwe fanfic#vernon chwe x you#vernon chwe insert reader#chwe hansol smut#chwe hansol#chwe hansol x reader#my writing
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Kinks I think Jason Grace would have
Warnings: includes controversial kinks (including DDLG 😱😱😱), but isn’t too hardcore imo. AFAB reader. Jason’s a sweetie like always. This includes a lot of hot takes. (Reminder: I write sub!reader only). MDNI.
Oh LORD do I have a lot to say
I’d say he’s kinky compared to vanilla people, but he’s vanilla compared to most other kinky people yk???
Like he has kinks, a couple of them taboo, but he’s a soft dom for the most part.
Everything he does is for your benefit. Even punishments. Your punishments are always very fair and he gives multiple warnings before resorting to punishing you.
Definitely into dd/lg chat (I’m biased but I really can’t help myself I’m sorry 😔)
He’s pretty strict but it’s all for your own good!
He has a strict bedtime and lots of different rules set with various consequences for breaking them repeatedly
But if you’re well behaved for the entire week, he gives you a reward!
Also into petplay 🤭
He thinks it’s so so so cute to see you dressed up in little puppy ears, with a tail plug in. He would probably bust on the spot if you let him get you a collar with a little tag on it saying something like “Jason’s puppy”
He’d leash you too but he’d still be so sweet about it. He’d walk you around the house, making you follow him wherever he goes
Controversial take
He gets jealous easily…
He loves leaving marks on your neck and telling you not to cover them, just so everyone will know you’re his !!
Going back to the puppy play thing from earlier, he loves to make you do a little twirl for him and show off how pretty you are whenever you put on your ears and tail.
Breeding kink ‼️ especially if you’re a virgin. Idk I just kinda feel like he’d have a thing for claiming you and “carrying on his legacy”. He also just generally wants to have kids
The first time you told him he could cum inside you, he went fucking feral. By the time he was done with you, you were shaking and crying from overstimulation.
He always tells you have much he loves you during sex, and how pretty you are, especially if you slip really deep into subspace. He has to make sure his little baby knows he loves them ❤️
#percy jackson smut#pjo smut#jason grace x reader#smut#jason grace#jason grace smut#jason grace x reader smut#percy jackson x reader
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𝘼𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 - !
Tags: softdom!Matty, facefucking, daddy kink, pet names, submissive!reader, piss kink…. sorry
A/N: hihi first post yes please like share subscribe for more videos like this… not proofread i am just a girl guys please… kinda rushed too like omg what do you expect from me…
Matty had been at work all day. He left no time to focus on you, with work having taken everything he had, he left nothing to you. You grew desperate. You wanted his focus, his love — hell, you’d even settle for disappointment… as long as he had his eyes on you. After having decided you were done waiting, you made your way towards your boyfriend. His glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, his hands flying quickly across the keyboard as he focused on something important for his job. With his hair disheveled, and his lips pressed into a thick line that his mustache barely covered… he looked good.
You leaned on the doorframe, staring at him as he worked. The deep groans he exhaled from the stress gave you anything but concern — you were filled with desire and need. He looked up at you slightly, head still positioned toward his computer, eyebrows furrowed as if to say “What do you want?” You shook your head and smiled at him, losing his gaze. The wood bit at your knee, skin scraping against the cold floors, but you didn’t mind the pain. You had a mission, and you were determined to meet it. You needed to be his girl, you wanted to be taught a lesson. You reach his legs, staring at his jeans as they tighten against his thighs, his muscles taut underneath them. Your fingers spread his thighs apart, startling him instantly.
“Baby? What’re you doing?” he finally looks down at you, confusion etched on his features. His hand lifts from his keyboard, faltering before leading towards your head. He strokes your hair and smiles softly at the immediate effect he has on you.
“Shhh, Daddy… ‘wanna take care of you, please?” you whimper, beginning to stroke your hands against his growing bulge. The smell of him is all-consuming, and your thoughts proceed to grow more and more about Matty — his cock, him using your mouth for his pleasure. You pull his zipper down with your teeth, taking your time, a small form of revenge for not giving you the attention you so desperately needed. His breath quickens as you continue your teasing, kissing his thighs through his jeans. The anticipation of what’s to come makes his cock jump in his boxer, and you bite your lip at the reaction, holding back a giggle — he’s not the only one with control, you just as easily run circles around him.
You grip him through his boxers, cupping his length and watching his precum bead against the fabric. Leaning forward, you lick his tip, looking at him to see his reaction. He’s groaning softly, trying to focus on his computer, but failing and you notice how hard he’s trying to ignore your efforts to distract him. You increase your efforts, this time pulling him out and slipping his tip in your mouth, sucking and rolling your tongue across his tip.
“God... fuck..” he curses, hand quickly reaching down to grip your hair. You moan at the tight sensation against your scalp. “Such a pretty girl… Can Daddy fuck this pretty mouth?” His grip on your hair tightens, allowing you to nod slightly before he pushes your face down on his cock. He thrusts into your mouth with reckless abandon, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. You clench your fists, trying to hold back choking, but you ultimately fail. You cough and spit flies everywhere, pulling away from his cock and breathing heavily. He strokes your cheek softly, “Sorry baby- fuck, couldn’t hold back, love you so much,” his thumb caresses your mouth, pushing in slightly. Your tongue welcomes him in, wrapping around his finger, bobbing against it like it were the real thing. After a moment, he looks at you and sighs, “Baby, I gotta take a piss… I can’t.. We can continue this when I’m done with work, how about that?” Your eyes open wide, sadness filling your head. You shake your head, moving closer to his cock once more, taking him in completely and looking up at him with your eyes.
“Are you sure? Fuck- okay..” he groans before his stream leaks down your throat, the warmth filling your mouth and spilling from your lips. He tuts at you, rubbing the piss leaking from your mouth, “Such a dirty girl for me, need to clean you up after this, huh?” You smile at him, you’re so content you almost forget his cock is in your mouth, before he slides out of your mouth and back in again. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your own hand sneaking down to play with your clit. Moaning from the stimulation and the want to be used, Matty whispering praises and filthy words helping push you to release.
His thrusts are slowing down, you take that as your que to double the efforts (on both yourself and him), taking him deeper in your mouth and sucking in. He fucks into your mouth slowly, moaning as you cums down your throat, a mixture of piss and cum leaving an aftertaste in your mouth.
You look at him with doe eyes, whimpering softly when you feel the familiar tension in your stomach start to collapse. He talks you through it, whispering “good girl, such a good girl for me,” as you come down from your high. He brings you up from under his desk, sitting you on his lap. Matty strokes your hair, murmuring praises into your ear as you come back to reality. “What was that about, sweet girl?”
“‘Needed you… 'wanted your attention.. needed to be taught a lesson,”
“Could've just asked, baby,” he grins, "Didn't need a lesson either, you just needed your daddy, no shame about it.."
#matty healy#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#matty healy the 1975#dom!matty healy#sub!reader#mustache matty truther IDC#the 1975 fic#the 1975 blurb#.... guys please.....
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does reader like the fact that rafe is being so public about their relationship especially after the pregnancy and sofia (and the stuff we dont know about yet)? like ofc he's popular and all but we saw on spotify that it's hard for reader to talk to him and now theyre flirting on air and people are asking about their relationship on LS??? theres so much to unpack and as much as i love his grand gestures, are we unpacking that shit live on air???? idk if it's a personal choice or not so ???
- 🥐
i absolutely love this question because i was contemplating it myself.
how i’m writing it is, i want reader to be self-secured in herself. she has processed most of what happened in the past and what he has done, but it’s difficult to talk to rafe because she hasn’t talked to him since. that’s why she struggled so hard to speak to him when he first called in. to hear his voice again after all this time, it hurts her. however, it’s kinda like… exposure therapy. the more she hears him, the more she’s grows comfortable like it was the time before.
this is done intentionally! rn, she’s wrapped up in this ignorant bliss right now. she says she doesn’t want to hear rafe but she’s finding time to talk to him on spotify? she says she can’t stand him, but she never blatantly tells him to get off and leave her alone. she’s not upset at him trying, internally, she’s actually very giggly about it. it’s just the fact that she currently has an internal moral conflict about letting him back in or not.
but overall, to answer your questions. rafe is intentionally avoiding conversations about their pregnancy and sofia. he doesn’t want to say anything that can trigger her and cause her to regress into a shell. so, he’s keeping it light and breezy. which she reciprocates (lowkey).
it’s just pure in-the-moment type of thing. she’s not thinking about the past or the future. just now.
aaah! sorry for the ramble, hope that answers the question!
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Hi! I love your writing so so much!!
If possible, could you do one where the reader has been working overtime at work and is exhausted, like they've been having headaches and barely sleeping & Frank notices and basically convinces them and helps them to take a break? Thank you!! 💕❤️
KEEP ME COMPANY ’TIL THE END ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: You’re pushing yourself past your limits for work and Frank intervenes.
Warnings: Stress, mostly fluff, gender neutral reader, language
Word count: 770
Author’s note: Hiiii my loves! I am so sorry for being MIA, this semester is kicking my ass :( Rn it seems like my posts will be a little infrequent because I have sooo many deadlines before Christmas, but I’m gonna try my best!! I have not forgotten about all your requests!! Thank you so much for your patience, thank you also for 900 followers, that’s so wack but I am so grateful <3 Anon, I hope you enjoy this short fic and that you forgive me for being so slow to get this out. Much love!
A brewing headache pinched at your temples and you were painfully aware that every minute you spent staring at your outrageously bright laptop screen only sealed your fate tighter and tighter. It was getting late but you still felt like you had so much to do; like you had barely scratched the surface of all your responsibilities. You had only taken a break to go to the bathroom and reluctantly eat something when Frank had insisted on it, and now the tension from sitting on the couch with your laptop huffing and puffing on your thighs was starting to seep into your shoulders and neck.
Frank didn’t like it, the way you worked yourself to the bone, but he had swallowed down his complaints when you had promised to wrap things up within the hour. Still, you could feel his scrutinizing stare on you from across the couch, his attention on your focused frown rather than the football game he was supposed to be watching. He was itching to say something, to force you away from the suffocating bubble of stress, but he was trying to be patient — though the scratched label of his beer bottle said plenty.
When you winced at the pulsating headache behind your eye, though, he cleared his throat and reached for your laptop.
”Hey! Frank, noooo. I’m not done”, you insisted, trying to get the device back but he was quick to save your document and then slap it closed before you could retrieve it. He angled it behind his back and tutted at you, disapproving of the way you were pushing yourself for the sixth day in a row.
”Nah, sweetheart, I’m tellin’ you, you’re gonna waste away if you don’t take a break. You’ve been at it all day, aight? I want you here with me, not worryin’ about shit”, he argued back, your pout doing nothing to sway him. He always caved in and gave you what you wanted — unless your health and sanity were at stake.
You frowned, a sudden surge of guilt swinging at your chest. ”I guess I’ve been kinda neglecting you…”, you admitted with shame. That had never been your intention, but you couldn’t deny that you had not been a very present partner lately.
Shaking his head, Frank set the beer on the coffee table and took your hand in his own. ”It ain’t about that, darlin’. It’s the fact that this is wearin’ you out. I know you ain’t sleepin’ and I gotta jump through all these hoops to just get you to eat. I’m worried, y’know?” he explained, his tone stern but still warm. He was trying his hardest to be understanding, but he took your well-being too personally to let this newfound routine go on.
You managed a nod and squeezed his hand. ”I know, Frankie, I’m sorry, it’s just… there’s so much to do and I can’t fall behind”, you tried to rationalize your persistent working, and he sighed softly, not out of frustration but to acknowledge the difficult situation.
”I get it, sweetheart. But no one can expect you to be efficient at this hour, aight? You need to rest, too. Yeah?” Frank pointed out, tilting his head to catch your gaze. He was right and you knew it, so begrudgingly, you admitted defeat.
”Okay. I’ll limit myself”, you agreed, and with the concern in his eyes slowly fading, Frank nodded approvingly. He placed the laptop on the table before opening his arms for you, gesturing for you to cuddle up to him. The invitation made you smile and seeing joy on your face for the first time all day got Frank’s lips twitching, too.
You nestled against him and he wrapped you into a cocoon of safety and warmth, hoping to distract you from the stress lingering on your mind. It was hard not to think about all the work you could have been doing, and Frank suspected as much.
”I know it ain’t easy to just turn it off. But you deserve a break, baby. And I’m fuckin’ proud of you for all your effort, but I’ll be proud if you cut back a lil, too”, he spoke up after a moment of just cuddling, and with your heart soaring at his praise, you tilted your head up so you could kiss his jaw tenderly.
”Thank you, Frank. Love you”, you muttered, feeling the exhaustion of the past week creep up on you. Frank noticed, but he was glad — you needed sleep, and he was going to try and help you do it however he could.
”Love you too, sweetheart.”
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sooo…. saka fic but when the reader/oc is in love w his best friend and he just can’t accept that☺️💕
Bad Religion. Bukayo Saka
୨ৎ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ♥︎ ⋅ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ♡︎
pair ; Bukayo Saka x Fem!Reader
disclaimer ; Angst - no happy ending
d speaks ; specially dedicated to my beautiful girl, @sakashq ! you’re amazing and a great writer, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. i love you tons. also, sorry this is so short !!
It was a beautiful day, Saka woke up refreshed and thought today would be great. He called you and asked if you wanted to go to a restaurant that he knew was your favorite.
He was so excited to hear accept his invitation, but you asked if he could bring his friend along. He said yes to you but his heart dropped.
He knew your feelings for his best friend, but this was his last straw. He also knew that his best friend was just leading you on, he had told him to quit it ages ago. The two had gotten into so many fights and you were the main reason why, Saka always told him that you were the wrong girl to be playing like that.
Once you all arrived at your favorite restaurant, you all started to converse per usual. You had realized Saka was looking at you particularly different than he usually did, or that you noticed of.
Once you guys wrapped up lunch, Saka was zoning out as you talked to his friend, laughing at all of his jokes and looking at him with such admiration in your eyes. He was done.
“I’m gonna head home…” He blurts out. “What? Why?” You say with a frown creeping up on your face.
“I’m not going to sit here and watch the girl that I’ve been in love with for years stare at my best friend with goo-goo eyes when he’s just leading her on. I can’t watch this jackass treat you like you’re some other girl, because in my eyes you’re much more than that! I’m sick of putting myself through this when I know both of your true feelings, that’s all.”
Your jaw completely dropped. You had no idea he had these feelings.
You feel like such a jerk replaying in your mind all you’ve said to him about how much you like his friend.
“Saka, I..” You say as tears swell up in your eyes, you feel like such a bitch.
Before you can say anything, he storms off and leaves.
୨ৎ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ♥︎ ⋅ ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ ♡︎
@dylvnstape ! @ar4ujos @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @percys-princess @hrts4havertz @icopewithfanfictions @livelovepercabeth @jfelixx11 @ultraviolencewh0r3s @eyeliketoeatpoosay @riotsuns @bueckrs !! 🤍
#arsenal#bukayo saka#joaoflms#football#angst#fc barca#chelsea football club#pablo gavi#gavi x reader#joao felix x reader#joao felix#christopher sturniolo edits
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Hey, I've loved your insight on John and Paul's relationship after the split. Can I ask you a different question?
Namely, do you think Paul is autistic?
You don't have to answer if you don't like.
Hi Anon!
Sorry I’ve taken so long to respond to this one, I wanted to dedicate some proper time to it as it’s a more complicated one and I wanted to give it the thought it deserves. I’m sort of in the best and worst position to answer this. The best in the fact that I am diagnosed autistic (probably AuDHD but that’s a whole other thing) and present atypically (good eye contact, empathetic, have learnt to read people fairly well etc.) and in a way that many people don’t realise I’m autistic until they know me well or I tell them. However, that almost means I’m in the worst position because the possibility that I’ll potentially project traits onto Paul is much higher than the average person. But I’ll try to be as unbiased as I can.
To properly judge whether Paul is autistic you would of course need a specialist who can assess his behaviour in-depth so all of this is of course speculative. From my own-brand observations and perspective, I think I would be comfortable saying that there is a distinct possibility that Paul is neurodivergent. This could be AuDHD or just straight up ADHD or PTSD (there’s a lot of symptom overlap between the three and childhood ptsd leads to restructures in the brain). This due to the following traits that I’ve noted:
Inability to appropriately assess risk (posing lying half on a diving board over an empty swimming pool anyone?? And so many pictures of him perilously close to edges)
High need for stimulus
Perfectionist yet unable to finish things properly (Paul himself admits there’s albums that are clearly unfinished)
Trouble expressing himself
Constant fidgeting (Ringo said he was unable to keep still)
Hyperfixations that get in the way of other tasks
Intense procrastination despite periods of aforementioned hyperfixation (sorry George Martin no I haven’t done the entire score for a film until the last minute I’ve been hanging with John)
Synthesia
Potential hyper mobility (let’s just climb onto the packing in one step)
Maaaybbbeee potential co-ordination issues (man can’t really dance and when he learnt to ride he started cycling backwards)
Rejection sensitivity
Rigid thinking
Insensitivity
Distracted focus (his dad talking about him watching television and doing his homework at the same time)
Tics and stims
A musical savant
So there’s quite a bit there tbh when taken all together. That being said without proper assessment it would be impossible to say which of the three he would fall under, if any. Once again though, he shares traits that I recognise in myself and my neurodivergent friends and wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was.
On that note, I hope you don’t mind me mentioning this anon but I think you’ve asked quite a few people this question on here? I’m guessing (again apologies if this is wrong) that you’re also autistic and relate to Paul in some way that is quite personal to you? I only bring it up as I’ve been there, being autistic is hard and a lonely experience at times and finding decent representation for high functioning autism is near impossible. I would say even if Paul is autistic or not, he’s still a great example of how having these traits in no way stops you from being loved, valued and even adored. Paul has lived an incredibly successful life partially because of his traits of neurodivergency, regardless of label that in itself is pretty great to see. So yeah whilst I wouldn’t want to put a label on it, I think he might be in our general camp and I’m really happy to potentially have him here.
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For the first time in his life, freddie is rendered near speechless. Not because he didn’t know what had happened - he knew about Jason and assumed that lines would be drawn instantly after - but because he finds himself not knowing how to talk to Zak anymore. So many years of brotherly love and hate, so much time spent in each other's company, Zak had been there when Freddie’s life had fallen apart. After the crash, he had been one of the first people he had called. The ghost riders had all been invited to the funeral, and had surrounded him with support. But at that time it felt like Zak cared for him, that he liked him enough to want to be there.
Now he feels like they don’t know each other and he’s still trying to figure out how that happened.
“ Shit,” he says quietly, eyes fixated on his shoes. “ I’m sorry. ” he does not specify for what. For the war, for Jason, for everything he has done, for his uselessness, for his illness. “ next stops mine. ” freddie says, clearing his throat awkwardly and now moving his eyes to the ceiling. “ got a, uh, a family NA meeting. Hence why the old man’s coming. ” he won’t wake him up just yet, not until they start to pull into the platform. “ by the way, uh, I’m ready for it, y’know, when you gotta do what you gotta do. I won’t fight you off or make it a hard aim or anything. ” finally their eyes meet. “ I'm not scared. ”
Zak found himself mad at Freddie often but mostly out of his own frustration. In some ways, Zak feels like he failed the kid. There was a time a few years ago when Zak messed around with different substances but never got to the point of an Addiction. Becoming the sole caretaker of Sophia changed his ways. He was forced to grow up so early. Losing his father at 15 meant he had to become a man of the house. He was too young to take over the position he had been training for. So even though he wasn't president, he was running the clubhouse as well. He started working on the shop and running the business. He was married at twenty and had a child by 23. By 24 he was a single dad to a barely toddler and on his own, yet again.
Zak knew nothing but sucking it up and taking responsibility, solving other people's problems. And Freddie proved to be a challenge he struggled to get control over. "I'm fine," he said with an exhale. "Freddie was in that fire too, he knew what went down. "Jason was stabbed. So we are at war now." That was why he was tied to that chair.
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