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#this always had a sad ending YOU ALL KNEW THIS
fuyuluvr · 23 hours
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that wasn’t what it sounded like! 
synopsis: you accidentally hear them say they don't like you.
characters: kuroo, suna
warnings: this was written back in 2020 and i decided to repost it so yea, be warned ig, angst to fluff!
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kuroo: 
with a sigh, you tried mustering up all the confidence you can as you trudged towards the gym. 
‘this is the day.’ you thought to yourself. you were finally going to confess to kuroo. after having numerous debates with your mind, you finally came to the decision to confess. 
your heartbeat quickened at the numerous scenarios you were thinking, most of them being rejection. 
the worst thing that can happen is rejection, right? 
you couldn’t help but fall for kuroo, how could you not? he was funny, smart, and being handsome was a nice plus. you already knew that it would be hard to just tell him about your feelings, especially knowing that he probably only viewed you as a friend. 
once you arrived by the gym, you took a deep breath before going in with a smile, waving to kenma who acknowledged you by looking up from his game.
“uh.. have you seen kuroo?” you sheepishly asked kenma who looked at you curiously before nodding to the locker room.
“hey, (y/n)?” kenma called out. “yeah?”
“goodluck.” your eyes widened as he gave you a small smile. 
you sometimes hated how perceptive kenma is despite his nonchalant behavior. with a determined nod, you walked towards the locker room, hoping to see kuroo walk out from the door. 
when you were at a near distance from the door, you hear a bunch of chatter. you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you perked your head when you heard your name come out from a voice you recognized as yaku’s. 
“man, kuroo. you’re lucky! you have (y/n) crushing on you.” a smack was heard after, kuroo groaning in pain followed afterward. 
your heartbeat quickened when you heard the captain laugh in response. 
“come on, yakkun. (y/n) and i are just friends!” for now. “eh?! seriously? you don’t like her in that way?” you scoot a bit closer to the door, wanting to hear his answer before you take the leap. 
“don’t be ridiculous, yakkun. we’re friends, and that’s it.” your heart dropped at his words. 
you were so caught up in evaluating kuroo’s answer that you didn’t realize the door to the locker room opened. “oh, (y/n)? what’re you doing here?” the chatter in the locker room evidently stopped. you blinked, trying to keep tears at bay. 
you looked up to kai who looked at you with a kind expression. “ah, our professor told me to give this to tet- kuroo-san.” you say, giving him a folder. “i have to go, please give this to him for me. thank you, kai!” you say before running off, passing by the freshmen who gave you a wave of excitement. you couldn’t find it in yourself to smile back as you ran from the gym.
once you were at a safe place, you let the tears fall free. you didn’t know why you were crying. 
‘you didn’t even confess, for crying out loud! so why are you sad?’ you thought to yourself, laughing as you wiped your eyes. 
you felt pathetic for ever thinking that kuroo would ever look at you that way. you were friends. he specified so clearly to one of his closest friends. that was all the confirmation you needed. 
you knew you had to distance yourself on the following days. knowing that if you don’t you’ll fall even deeper and get hurt. 
and you were tired of getting hurt. 
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“oi, chibi. why did the picture go to jail?” kuroo asked when the class was about to end. you took a while to answer him, you only answered when you felt him poke his pen by your cheek. “oi.” “i don’t know, kuroo. why?” kuroo could almost shiver at the tone you used, but he thinks it may just be a bad day. maybe his jokes could make it better? it always did. 
“because it was framed.” not wanting to ignore him, but not wanting to indulge him either you give him a short laugh that can be mistaken as a breath. 
“was it not funny?” “it was.” 
kuroo was silent for a few seconds before asking you with a small nudge from his elbow. 
“are you okay?” “mhm.” you realized that that answer was too curt, something that would possibly make him suspicious. and you didn’t want that. 
“i just need to listen to this lesson, this is very confusing.” you follow up quickly, taking down notes just to not look suspicious. 
“you know i could always tutor you, right?” kuroo said, a reassuring tone lacing his voice. you turn to give him a small nod and smile. “i know.” but i’d like to not be with you unless necessary. “thank you.” 
kuroo furrowed his eyebrows, clearly he knew something was wrong. but before he could ask, the bell rang and you immediately went out of the room. not even giving kuroo his usual goodbye. 
something was definitely wrong. 
“(y/n’s) acting weird.” kuroo couldn’t help but mention when they were on the train home. “eh?” kenma kept clicking on his console, listening intently as his childhood friend rant on about you. 
“and then suddenly they turned cold! i don’t remember doing anything to make them mad.” kuroo was frustrated to say the least, he knew that your friendship was going well, so of course he would be confused as to why you suddenly gave him the cold shoulder.
“i mean… did you reject them?” kenma asked, eyes still on his console. kuroo furrowed his eyebrows at his friend. “reject them? what?” 
kenma paused the game and looked up to kuroo. 
“so, they didn’t confess?” kuroo shook his head in response to kenma’s question. kenma sighed, “i think i know what’s going on.” 
“well, don’t keep it to yourself, kenma. tell me.” kuroo urged. 
“they heard you say you don’t like them.” kenma said, unpausing his game. “well, that’s only my thoughts. i wouldn’t know.” 
now that kuroo thought about it, when he told yaku he only saw you as a friend, the door of the locker room opened to reveal you, who gave kai a document that was meant for him before running off. 
kuroo should’ve known you’ve heard. because no matter how busy you were, you would always wish him good luck on his practices and give him a corny joke to keep him motivated. 
“fuck.” kuroo muttered, placing his hands by his eyes and tilting his head back on the window of the train, groaning from frustration. 
there was a small pause of silence, only the clicking of kenma’s console was heard before the underclassman spoke. 
“what do you plan on doing now?”
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“hey, we need to talk.” kuroo cornered you by the locker, you shut the metal door lightly before giving him an apology. 
“i’m really needed for the next class.” at this point, you weren’t even trying to hide the sheer fact that you were avoiding him. 
“we’re in the same class, and we both know the teacher wouldn’t show up until half the hour passes. try again, (y/n).” 
“i just don’t want to talk to you.” you say straight up, not even trying to put a filter and kuroo felt his heart clench painfully at your tone. 
“too bad. you don’t have a choice.” without a word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away to a vacant classroom. 
“why have you been avoiding me.” kuroo knows the answer to his question, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. 
“i was busy, can i go now. please?” you say as curt as possible, not wanting to melt under his gaze. not wanting to break whatever resolve you have built up from the past few days you ignored him. 
“i’m not buying it.” kuroo says, crossing his arms and eyeing you down. you knew that you wouldn’t be able to keep up the tough act if you stayed there.
“you’re so unfair, kuroo.” you couldn’t help but whisper. kuroo’s posture immediately straightened. 
“i’m unfair?” kuroo asked with an amused grin on his face. “i don’t think i’m the one who ignored someone for days for no apparent reason.” you looked down at his words, knowing he has the upperhand. just why did you think you could escape him?
“i’m not the one who made someone think that they did something wrong.” you didn’t realize that he was getting closer, not until you saw his shoes in front of you and felt his hands on your chin, making you look up to him. 
“i’m the one who was deprived of a confession from the person i like, don’t you think it’s unfair for me?” your eyes widened for a few milliseconds before you pushed him away. 
“stop messing around, kuroo.” your voice cracked. “just let me move on. and i promise i’ll be back to normal.” you both know that was an empty promise. if kuroo didn’t corner you, then you would’ve completely tried to eradicate him from your life. but kuroo couldn’t have that. 
now that he knew you liked him back, how could he let this chance go to waste. 
“you think i’ll let you go when i finally have an opportunity to pursue you?” your throat went dry. 
“kuroo... stop. you don’t need to pretend, i heard what you said to yaku. it’s fine, really.” at this point, you wanted to get out as soon as possible. you knew you were going to break down if this keeps on going.
“(y/n), please. believe me. i truly do like you back.” you felt tears prick your eyes. this was some sick joke kuroo was playing at. 
kuroo panicked, seeing tears well up in your eyes before you blinked it away. 
“but i-” “yes. i know that i said those words that day, but it was to shut yakkun up… and to hide my own feelings.” kuroo said the last part quietly. if he weren’t holding you, you probably wouldn’t have heard. 
he lets go of your chin before sighing. “i’ve been in love with you for so long, i didn’t know how to deal with it so i kept denying it. i didn’t tell yaku the truth because i didn’t need him to make fun of me because i couldn’t get the person i wanted.” kuroo let it out, you were shocked. 
he felt the same way?
“kuroo…?” “(y/n). i’m sorry, but i can’t let you go. especially now when i know i have a chance. so please.” unbeknownst to the both of you, your heartbeats were almost identical on how fast it paced. 
“i...” you started. not knowing the right words to say. 
“i think we should… take things slow.” you look at him, giving him the smallest of smiles you can muster. “if that’s okay with you?” 
kuroo couldn’t find it in himself to suppress the wide smile that was plastered on his face. without another word, he pulled you to his chest. his laugh rang out the empty classroom. 
“god. i didn’t want to confess this way… but here we are.” kuroo pulled away and laughed. 
“don’t break my heart, kuroo.” you warned lightheartedly. he gave you a smile that was laced with all the adoration he felt for you before pecking raising your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles. 
“i wouldn’t dream of it.”
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suna:
the whistle was blown, signaling the end of their practice. you smiled in encouragement to the members who looked like they’ve gone through hell and back. from the intensity of their training, you would probably believe so. 
“nice work.” you say, handing atsumu his water bottle. the setter gave you a pat on the head before gesturing to suna who was wiping his sweat with a towel. “go talk to ‘yer loverboy.” 
you rolled your eyes at his statement, but walked towards the middle blocker anyway.
“nice work out there, rin!” you smile, giving him the water bottle that you prepared. of course, it was your own water bottle with the liquid infused with citrus. you thought about putting it in his, but then again, the water bottles were identical and someone else might drink it. 
“(y/n)~ why does suna get special treatment?” akagi whined. your eyes widened, not knowing that the libero was watching your interactions. 
“i want manager-san’s special treatment too!” ginjima whined as well, your face heat up at the sudden attention before the coach blew the whistle once more. 
“seems like break is over, be back later, (y/n).” suna stated, giving you back your water bottle and a quick pat on the head. your face heated up with the contact. 
“yeah.” you were in a daze, staring at suna’s figure as he went back to court. 
“‘yer staring, manager-san.” kita’s straightforward voice cut off your thoughts. “huh? what?” 
a smirk formed on kita’s face. “be careful, (y/n). ‘yer not being as cautious as before.” 
“what did you mean before? kita-san. i-” “liked our middle blocker since before you were our manager? i’m well aware.” if you and kita weren’t close, you would be scared on how he managed to catch on quickly with your stupid crush. “i’m right, aren’t i?” 
“i sometimes hate you, kita.” a scoff was heard from the bicolored male. “sure you do.” 
you and the captain went on with your banter. occasionally noting down some of the notable movements the team did in their practice. 
when the whistle was blown, that was then you realized that you have forgotten to fill up the water bottles once more. with a quick bow, you ran outside to fill it up with refreshing cold water. once done, you struggled to carry the weight of several bottles at once. 
“when do you plan on confessing to (y/n), suna?” you stopped in your tracks as you hear atsumu’s voice reverberate from the other side of the wall. 
“what are you talking about?” suna retaliated, voice deadpanned as usual. “come on, suna. don’t think we don’t see the way (y/n) has heart eyes for you.” you almost dropped the water bottles in your hands. your heart beat quick, realizing that suna was well aware of your crush on him. 
“so?” the same deadpanned voice answered. you felt saddened at the lack of emotion in his tone. “what do you plan to do if they tell you?” 
you weren’t prepared for his answer, you didn’t want to know.  
“i don’t know what you want me to say, i don’t like (y/n) that way.” fuck.
at this point, your throat felt clogged and tears were forming in your eyes. you always knew that you should have never let this small crush turn into something more, now you were here. feeling sad just because of your hopeless crush on the team’s middle blocker. 
you didn’t realize that you dropped a water bottle, when you looked down, you saw lemon slices floating around the water. as if it were mocking you. 
you sigh, picking it up. ‘one last time.’ you thought to yourself before entering the gym, pretending you didn’t just get your heart broken.
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“no lemons this time?” suna asked as you gave him his water bottle. “didn’t find any.” you say as curt as possible before attending to the other members of the team to which the others found odd. 
since when was he the first one you tended to? usually you always placed him as last so you could talk to him more. maybe you just forgot? did something happen? 
either way, the team was in confusion with your sudden shift in attitude. especially suna, who has gotten used to your daily banter every training. 
the middle blocker shrugged it off before taking a sip of the plain water. maybe you just weren’t in the mood today? who knows. 
it wasn’t only today, but the next few days. suna began noticing how his interactions with you have drastically decreased, he never took notice of how much he actually craved your presence until you stopped giving him attention and began treating him like how you treat the twins. 
well, there wasn’t anything wrong with the way you treated the twins, but he thought he was special. he knows he was special, maybe that’s why he thought that you might have possibly liked him back. but why did you suddenly drift away from him? 
suna doesn’t remember anything that he could have possibly done for you to stray away from him. 
“good work.” “are we okay?” suna suddenly asked you, who was giving out his water bottle as per usual. “of course.” you say before plopping the bottle on his hand and moving on to the next member.
“relationship problems?” osamu teased as he went beside suna, sipping on his own water bottle. “shut it, miya.”
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the middle blocker hated this. he hated how all of a sudden you pretended as if the both of you were only club mates and nothing else. 
but isn’t that what you were? you weren’t obligated to keep him company during breaks and talk about your guys’ days and plans. so why was he so bothered that you weren’t beside him?
suna had a thought, but he immediately crossed it off his mind because he knows it’s impossible. 
suna likes you, and you moved away even before he could act on it. 
“good wo-” “can we talk?” suna cut you off. you raised an eyebrow at him before trying to give him his water bottle. 
“i’m not taking that.” he huffed, before continuing. “give the others theirs first then get back to me. just like before.” startled, you wordlessly nodded before giving the rest of the members their water bottles. 
once you were done, you felt suna pull your wrist and dragged you outside. a knowing smirk invaded the twins’ faces as they saw the both of you leave. 
“suna-” “what is your problem?” your eyes widened at the sharp tone that suna gave you. 
“i have no idea what you mean.” “why have you been getting distant lately?” “i was busy, suna”
suna looked at you, knowing he isn’t buying a single word you say. he wanted to cringe at the way you called him by his last name, but he couldn’t afford to lose his composure. 
“we both know that’s absolute bullshit, (y/n).” you narrowed your eyes at his response. 
“why does it matter, suna?” you bit back,  having been fed up with this conversation. “i just want to know what i did that made you act weird around me.” 
you tense up, not knowing what to say next. you knew it was unfair to make suna feel as if he did something wrong, but you knew the more you acted upon your feelings, the more you won’t be able to move on. so with a deep breath you braced yourself for your next words. 
“you did nothing, suna.” you gave him a small smile. “that is just me trying to move on. so please, give me some time.” 
suna blinked. was that a confession? he couldn’t register it fast enough before he tightened his grip on your wrist. 
“(y/n)... what do you mean?” “i don’t want to repeat myself, suna.” you say, gently trying to take your wrist from him. 
“you like me back.” suna says, more to himself than to you. you gave him a look of disbelief. “don’t be ridiculous.” 
“no, (y/n). you like me back.” a small smirk was plastered on his face, you felt your face heat up. 
“i did.” you could barely see the way his smirk faltered. “did?” 
you sigh, wanting to get this over with. 
“i heard you say to the twins that you don’t like me in that way. and it made me realize that maybe i’ve been reading the signs wrong and you only like me as a friend.” you explain, effectively pulling away your wrist the moment he faltered in his grip. 
“no hard feelings, suna. i just need time to move on, and since we’re here now. can you please tell me to move on? just so i can have the closure i need.” you say. 
unbeknownst to you, suna only said that so the twins would leave him alone. he’s always liked you, even before you were their manager. and when you suddenly gave him special treatment, he felt as if you returned his feelings. 
now that he knows you like him back, the twins be damned. he can’t let you go. 
“be with me?” “did you not hear what i said? i said i’m trying to move o-” “no.” 
suna said, taking a step closer to you. “i said i didn’t like you that way because i didn’t want the twins knowing and potentially ruining my chance with you because we both know they’d never shut up.” suna started.
“i didn’t confess because i didn’t want to assume that you liked me the way i liked you. but god, whenever you strut in the gym and give me your stupid hello kitty bottle filled with lemon water. i couldn’t help but assume.” you make a face. “my hello kitty bottle is not stupid, rin.” 
suna smiled at the returned nickname. “and you didn’t assume. i really do like you back.” 
“so...” suna trailed off. “so…?” 
“do you want to go out with me, after training?” suna didn’t know where the courage came from, before he could shy away from his question. you gave him a smile, a small blush on your face. 
“i.. i’d love to.” 
“and will you bring back the lemon water. i miss the stupid hello kitty bottle.” he was hit by the arm as you pouted. “once again, my hello kitty bottle is not stupid, rin.” 
suna smiled before placing a hand on your head. 
“sure, (y/n).” 
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note: i love suna i want him to trip on a rock
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vanteguccir · 11 hours
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Matilda | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N remembers her traumatic past, but Matt is there to support her and help her heal the wounds through a day on the beach and playing with toys while recording a video.
Warning: Fighting, crying, cursing, toxic and manipulative parents, traumatic childhood, a mention of aggression. ANGST with a happy ending.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
The sun was radiant in the blue sky as Y/N, Matt, Nick and Chris arrived at the beach on a sunny Saturday, the sound of the boys' little cousins' desperate pleas begging to be allowed into the water filled their ears, along with the waves gently lapping on the shore and the smell of the salty sea, bringing a feeling of comforting familiarity to Y/N.
They quickly chose a spot on the soft sand that was close to the area where the children would play, spreading their beach towels and opening an umbrella to protect themselves from the scorching sun.
"Babe, can you put sunscreen on my back, please?" Y/N asked as she adjusted herself on one of the colorful towels, crossing her legs over the soft fabric.
"Of course, hon." With a gentle smile, Matt picked up the beach bag that rested on the sand, fishing out the sunscreen and approaching his girlfriend. He knelt, positioning himself behind her. "Bend forward a little, my love."
The boy opened the tube, squeezing it lightly and pouring a significant amount of the product onto the palm of his hand before setting the packaging aside. He brought his hand closer to her warm skin, watching a shiver rise up her back at the contact of the cold cream, starting to spread it gently on Y/N's back, his large and skilled hands massaging it with care and affection.
Y/N closed her eyes, losing herself in the comforting sensation of Matt's touch. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and the cool ocean breeze caressing her face.
A loud, joyful scream from one of the children made her open her eyes again, looking up and focusing on where they were running, chasing each other while their hands tightly gripped colorful, plastic beach toys.
The laughter that followed them took her back to a time when she herself longed for that innocence and freedom, but rarely experienced it. Her childhood had been marked by absent parents and a lack of emotional stability that left deep scars on her soul, her mind recreating a scene extremely similar to the one she was experiencing at that moment.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The sun shone high in the sky, warming the small playground where a 5 year old Y/N sat. She dangled her little legs on the wooden bench as she watched the other children play excitedly around her. The playground was filled with laughter and happy screams, but for Y/N, all she felt was loneliness.
Her parents, as always, were absent, lost in their own problems and worries. They rarely had time for Y/N, and when they did, she always felt like an intruder in their busy lives. She could hear their voices shouting at each other a few meters away from where she sat, while her father's phone rang incessantly.
As she watched the other children play with their parents, a lump formed in her throat. She desperately wanted to be like them, to have the attention and affection of her own parents, but she knew that this was just an unattainable dream for her.
Suddenly, Y/N felt a heavy hand on her shoulder, making her jump in fright. Her father was there, looking at her with an impatient expression on his face, the ring of his phone echoing loudly against her ear as the image of her mother with crossed arms and angry eyes appeared behind his back.
"Y/N, let's go. We have things to do." He said abruptly, not caring about the sad expression in her eyes.
"B-but daddy, I-"
"Now!" Her father raised his voice, squeezing the skin of her shoulder with significant force in his fingers, practically pushing her off the bench.
Y/N stood up immediately, her heart heavy with sadness and loneliness. She wanted to say something more. She wanted to beg for a moment of attention and affection, where they could play together on the seesaw or the slide, but she knew it would be useless. Her parents were always too busy for her, always too far away to listen.
As they walked back home, Y/N felt a feeling of deep emptiness settle inside her. That was just another normal day for her family.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
As her painful childhood memories resurfaced in her mind, Y/N felt tears begin to stream down her cheeks. She knew, even at the tender age of five, that her childhood was being stolen from her, that she was being forced to grow up too fast, to adapt to a world where love and attention were luxuries she could never afford to have.
The girl tried to hide it, wiping her face quickly and looking away to the horizon, but the weight of her memories was difficult to bear.
"And... Done!" Matt's voice interrupted her train of thoughts, waking her from her reverie. Matt's hand, now slathered in sunscreen, moved away from her skin, retrieving the tube again before rising from his sitting position.
Y/N whispered a gentle "thank you", blinking quickly to clear away the new tears in her eyes before her boyfriend saw them, a small sniffle escaping her, which she covered with a fake cough.
“Y/N, is everything okay?” Nick - who was standing a few meters away - asked, his voice filled with concern as he noticed the tears in her eyes.
Matt, who was next to their bag holding sunscreen again, looked up at his brother's question, his brow furrowed in confusion as he quickly turned around, looking at his girlfriend.
"I'm fine, Nick. I think it's just the sun." Y/N forced a shaky smile, rubbing her eyes with her closed fist, feeling a stab of pain in both of them from the roughness of her movements.
Nick accepted the explanation with a nod, but Matt could see the truth behind Y/N's forced smile. He approached her again, sitting next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders affectionately.
"Sweetheart, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Matt whispered softly, his voice gentle and comforting.
Y/N looked at him, seeing the genuine concern in his blue eyes. She was tempted to open her heart to him, to share the depths of her pain and anguish. But the fear of being judged or rejected still kept her hesitant.
"I know, Matt." Y/N muttered, her voice choked by the weight of her emotions. "I just... I was just thinking about some things, that's all."
Matt wasn't convinced, but he knew that pressuring her wouldn't help her open up. He just held her tighter, offering her silent comfort, his arm working to pull her so that she lay her head on his right shoulder, sealing the top of her hair for long seconds, the fresh smell of sunscreen surrounding their bodies.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
After leaving their cousins ​​at the triplets' aunt and uncle's house again, Y/N and the brothers returned to their childhood home, having the need to return a little earlier so they could record the video that would be posted that Wednesday.
While Nick organized the equipment and Chris set up the table that they would be sat while filming, Matt approached his girlfriend - who was carrying her bags back to Matt's old room -, worried about her somewhat distant expression.
"Is everything okay, petal?" Matt asked softly, walking alongside Y/N towards the bedroom.
The girl paused for a moment, feeling grateful for Matt's concern, but also determined not to make him worry about her, knowing the importance of recording that video, since they couldn't publish the one of last Wednesday.
"I'm fine, baby. I think I'll stay in the room for a while while you record." Matt frowned at her airy response.
"Are you sure? Don't you want to be with us, maybe behind the cameras?" His voice came out small, full of concern, but Y/N just smiled gently in response, appreciating Matt's gentleness but knowing she needed time alone to process her own emotions.
"No, baby. I think I need some time alone." Matt nodded, accepting her decision with understanding.
"Okay, I'll be here if you need anything."
A few minutes later, after a hot and invigorating shower that seemed to wash away all her sorrows, Y/N left the room, her hair damp, and a feeling of freshness surrounding her.
She was heading towards the living room to grab Chris and Nick's bags and take them to their respective bedrooms when she heard voices coming from the kitchen. Curious about the frequent laughter, she followed the sound and found the triplets sitting on the marble table in front of the camera, opening children's toys and testing them out as content.
An excited smile spread across Y/N's face almost automatically. She approached slowly, watching them excitedly, a small "wow" escaping her lips as she saw her boyfriend pick up the colorful cardboard package with a small lamb inside.
Matt, who was showing Snowy to the camera, turned around when he heard Y/N's footsteps, his eyes automatically lighting up when he saw her there.
"Baby! Do you wanna play with us? Look, this is Snowy!" His voice came out excitedly as he quickly showed the toy to his girlfriend, a childish smile gracing his face.
Y/N nodded excitedly, feeling suddenly energized by the relaxed and fun atmosphere in the living room.
"It's so cute, Matt! I've never had one of those." She responded just as excitedly, quickly moving closer to them.
Chris got up from his seat, taking a new chair and placing it on Matt's left side so that it was on the other end opposite Nick.
"Thank you, Chris." Y/N smiled in gratitude, sitting on the upholstered chair and resting her arms on the gray marble.
The girl looked at the lamb in Matt's hands with a sparkle in her eyes, feeling a wave of nostalgia and joy invading her heart. She reached out to stroke the soft fur, feeling an immediate connection to the toy that she never had as a child.
"Here, petal. Try it!" Matt handed it over quickly, the three brothers watching her as she tried to understand how the toy worked.
"This is like a toy I would like." Nick commented briefly.
"It is so cute!" Y/N squealed, her smile lighting up her face as she turned it upside down.
"Wait, I think you turn it on here." Matt leaned closer to her, bringing his right hand closer to the toy and pressing the small, almost invisible button.
Y/N shook the lamb gently, moving it in the air in the hope that it would make it react in some way.
"Wait, let me-" Matt touched the lamb's back after Y/N placed it on the table with a confused expression.
A surprised scream escaped Y/N and Matt as they saw the toy slowly begin to walk, the girl weakly slapping her boyfriend's shoulder as she frantically pointed at Snowy with her other hand.
"Oh my God!" Chris laughed, getting Nick's attention and watching the toy walk towards them.
"Let me put the leash on it!" Nick asked with a smile on his face, taking the toy and attaching the small lilac string to it before letting it walk closer to Y/N again.
Matt stared in amazement at the lamb, wrapping his right arm around his girlfriend's waist and pulling her closer, while his free hand held the small blue bottle, wanting to feed it.
Y/N laughed loudly, feeling completely at ease and free to be her true self. She never had the opportunity to have toys as a child, so that moment meant a lot to her.
As she played with the lamb and the other toys, Y/N felt overwhelmed by a sense of peace and joy, determined to enjoy every moment of the experience, keeping it in her heart as a precious memory of the childhood she never had.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The sun was beginning to set over the horizon when the video came to an end. Nick and Chris were busy putting the toys into boxes to deliver to children in need the next day, when Matt approached Y/N with a mysterious smile on his lips, watching her return from his brothers' room after finally taking their bags to there.
"Baby?" Matt called softly, his voice full of restrained enthusiasm. "I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise? What is it?" Y/N looked at him quickly, eyes shining with curiosity and excitement as she felt her heart start racing.
Matt just shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.
"It's a surprise, baby. You'll see."
While Nick and Chris finished putting away the equipment, Matt led Y/N out of the house, quickly shouting to his brothers that they would be back soon before closing the door behind him.
The two walked silently towards the car, Matt quickly opening the passenger door for her gently before getting into the driver's seat, noticing from the corner of his eye his girlfriend bouncing her leg up and down anxiously.
The boy quickly brought his right hand to her leg, firming his grip there so that she stopped her frantic movements before stroking the covered skin lightly.
"Relax, pretty girl."
After making sure she was fine, the brunette started the car, driving down the long road, the sun setting painting the sky with shades of pink and orange as they drove away from the city.
Y/N curiously observed the route, trying to guess where they were going. The playlist she and Matt had created at the beginning of their relationship played softly on the radio, filling the car with a selection of their favorite songs that reminded them of each other.
As they got closer to the shore, Y/N felt a pang of anticipation growing inside her chest, her eyes darting across the landscape quickly as her mouth opened slightly.
"Matt, where are we going?"
"You'll see, babe. We're almost there." Matt just smiled, keeping the secret.
Finally, the car parked in one of the beachfront car spaces, and Y/N looked out the window, her eyes widening in surprise as she recognized the familiar scene.
"The beach?" She asked, confused. "What are we doing here?"
Matt turned off the engine and turned to Y/N, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"It's your surprise. Let's enjoy the beach. For real this time."
The sun was already almost completely gone when Matt and Y/N found themselves walking along the beach, their hands intertwined and their feet sinking into the soft sand, while their free hands held tightly to the pair of their own sneakers. The sound of the waves gently crashing beside them created a serene soundtrack to the moment.
Matt looked at Y/N beside him, seeing the mix of emotions on her face as she looked out to the sea, her eyes fixed on the waves, and her brow frowned tightly.
"Hey princess, is everything okay?" Matt asked softly, his soft voice bringing her back to the present while he squeezed her fingers gently.
Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mixture of sadness and determination.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just trying to process some things." Her voice came out lower than expected, her tongue escaping her mouth and quickly wetting her lips in a nervous act.
Matt nodded understandingly, offering her silent support as they continued to walk along the beach. He could feel the tension in her shoulders, and he was determined to help her find happiness in that moment.
So, suddenly, Matt stopped and looked at Y/N with a mischievous smile on his lips.
"How about we go for a swim?"
Y/N stopped next to him, processing what he said for a few seconds before her eyes widened in surprise, a smile slowly stretching on her face.
"Right now?"
"Yes, right now!" Matt exclaimed, dropping his sneakers onto the sand and taking hers, doing the same before grabbing her hand again, running towards the sea and pulling her tightly behind him, a scream lost against the wind that hit her face.
The two ran across the sand, laughing and screaming in euphoria as the waves lapped at their feet. They threw themselves into the sea, the cold waters enveloping them as they jumped and played like two carefree children, their clothes sticking to the skin of their bodies, but that was their last worry.
Y/N felt a sense of freedom like never before. The salt water washed away her pain, while Matt's laughter filled her ears in joy. For a moment, she allowed herself to forget all the weight of the past and simply live in the present moment, surrendering to the happiness that radiated from each pulse of the sea.
"This is amazing!" Y/N shouted, laughing as she jumped over or into the waves alongside her boyfriend's.
"You are amazing!" Matt replied, a radiant smile lighting up his face as his eyes traveled over the features of Y/N's face, his dilated pupils almost taking the shape of two hearts.
They played and jumped in the waves until they got tired, with each moment sinking deeper into their brain like a precious memory.
When they finally left the sea and threw themselves on the sand, panting and exhausted, Y/N felt a sense of peace and calm invade her being. Matt lay down next to her, their hands touching lightly, both ignoring the strange feeling of the sand against their wet bodies.
Y/N sighed deeply, staring to the starry blanket of the sky above them. She pondered deeply before turning to Matt, lying on her side, the corners of her eyes reflecting the starlight.
"You know, I've never had a real childhood." She began, her soft voice thick with emotion. "I've never talked about this to anyone before, but I know I can trust you, and I feel like it's time to reveal it... after today."
Matt turned so that he was equally lying on his side on the sand and facing her, his eyes showing immense tenderness, encouraging her to continue.
Y/N took a deep breath before speaking again, her words filled with painful memories of her troubled childhood.
"My parents were always busy with their jobs and making money, the more money the better... They rarely had time for me. The only memories I have of my parents are of them yelling at me or at each other." Her voice wavered as she fought to control her emotions. "Sorry." She laughed in disdain at her body's reactions.
"You don't have to be sorry, petal. I'm here with you." Matt whispered quickly, lifting his free hand and bringing it to her waist, caressing the skin covered by her wet clothes.
Y/N closed her eyes before speaking again.
"I felt so lonely, Matt. I never had friends because I was always very closed off, maybe because of the events at home, and the fact that I was quiet seemed to scare the other children away..."
Tears began to form in Y/N's eyes as she relived the painful memories of her neglected childhood.
"I felt so lost and abandoned." The girl continued, her voice shaking with the intensity of her emotions. "I prayed so much to whatever was hearing me to have a normal childhood, with friends and play times, but all I had was loneliness and sadness." She swallowed hard. "You know, my mom used to hit me sometimes... Nothing very serious, she just got angry because of how I behaved so quietly and different from her." Y/N shook her head quickly, a sob escaping her throat.
"Baby..." Matt traveled his hand from her waist to her free hand, holding it firmly, allowing her to cry without interrupting, knowing that she would never go beyond her limit by telling him about her traumas.
Y/N smiled weakly through her tears, feeling grateful for Matt's comforting presence. She snuggled closer to him, sand creeping up her legs, laying her head on his chest, just below his chin, taking comfort in the warmth of his body.
"It's okay, really-"
"No, sweetheart, this is not okay. Please, don't talk about your pain as if it's all alright." Y/N sighed deeply.
"My dad called me last week..." The girl murmured, changing the subject as she played with Matt's fingers between hers. "He wanted to see me again. He said he missed me." She laughed, her laugh full of irony and sarcasm.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Y/N's phone vibrated in her pants pocket, interrupting her as she tidied up her shared room with Matt, taking advantage of the fact that he was recording a video with his brothers. She picked up the device, her brow furrowing as she saw an unknown number on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Y/N, it's me." Her father's voice sounded on the other end of the line, and Y/N swore she felt her heart instantly freeze.
"Dad." Her voice came out indifferent, completely the opposite of her emotions.
"Hey, hi! Hm, I passed by your old room the other day and thought about you, I've been missing you, you know? And I'd like to see you. Can we set up a date?"
Y/N was silent for a moment, fighting a flood of conflicting emotions. She knew she didn't want to see her father, not after all the trauma he and her mother had caused herself. But she didn't want to be rude either; despite having grown up in a troubled home, she learned from life to be kind to everyone.
"Sorry, dad." She murmured finally, her voice firm. "I'm busy. I can't." Her father was silent for long, agonizing seconds, seeming surprised and angry at the same time. "That was all that-"
"What do you mean you're busy? Are you avoiding me?" Y/N took a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly and trying to remain calm.
"It's not that, dad. I'm just busy at the moment. I need to go..."
"That's unfair, Y/N!" Her father snapped, his voice rising in anger. "I really don't understand you. First, you left home at 17 and completely disappeared from our radar in such a way that I only see updates of you through your boyfriend's ridiculous YouTube channel. All you had to do was find a rich boy, so you totally forget about me and your mother. I fed you and gave you a roof over your head all your life, and you treat me like this? You're an ungrateful brat!"
Y/N felt tears well up in her eyes, a mixture of sadness and frustration flooding her body in an atrong shiver. She knew she couldn't continue this conversation if she could even call it a conversation.
"Whatever you say, dad. I have to go." She responded quickly before hanging up the phone, her trembling fingers moving automatically as she blocked the number.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"I said no. I was so short with him. Do you think I was wrong, Matt?" She cried harder, her body shaking as the intense sobs tore from her throat.
"No, never! Baby, listen to me. Fuck your parents, okay?" Matt pulled back slightly, lifting her head gently so he could look into her eyes, seeing a strand of surprise pass through her pupils. "Fuck them for always treating you in a horrible way and totally contrary to how parents should treat their children. Fuck them for fucking your head so much to the point that you feel guilty for not wanting them in your life anymore."
Y/N tried to look away, but Matt's hand beneath her chin held her firmly - but gently - in place, stroking her jaw with his thumb lightly.
"You're amazing, Y/N. You're a strong, amazing woman, and I don't want you to feel guilty about everything that happened in your childhood because none of it was your fault! You don't have to be sorry for leaving them and growing up..." The tone of his voice was firm, while his eyes carried a tone of seriousness unlike any Y/N had ever seen.
Y/N scoffed, trying to shake her head no, her mind reminding her that she wasn't any of those good things.
"I'm serious, pretty girl. You're so strong, the strongest woman I've ever met." He whispered, loosening his grip on her chin slightly, moving his hand up so that it cupped her cheek, caressing the soft skin gently. "You can let it go, you know? You can let it all go. I promise."
"I love you. I love you so much, Matt." The girl murmured, pressing her cheek against his palm and closing her eyes slightly, her wet eyelashes caressing her flushed, wind-chilled skin.
"I'm always here for you." Matt reinforced, leaning his head close to hers and lovingly sealing her forehead with his lips for long seconds, exhaling the salty scent left by the sea.
"Now, how are we going to get back to the house with wet clothes like that?"
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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anadiasmount · 1 day
Text
we’re pretending? - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: no date to an upcoming wedding, you use your best friend as last resort. what happens when your best friend isn’t playing pretend anymore and you’re left conflicted with these unusual feelings…
wc: 4.6 k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist
psa 🗣️: i used my og ‘glory box’ fic to get some inspo while writing this fic ngl!! 😣 this was so fun to write not only by the trope but the DRAMAAAA!! like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍
“yes mom, i know. i picked my dress up yesterday, and my flight is booked as well,” you sighed and rolled your eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see you through the phone. she knew how important this wedding was but she kept putting the pressure on you. it was the last thing you needed especially after you told her you’d bring someone along.
that someone was now you’re ex-boyfriend. you had less than 48 hours to come up with an excuse or show up alone.
"are you still bringing your plus one?" she asked, the line going silent for a few seconds before she spoke up again. "y/n? are you there?" you should've just lied or said the truth, all you could think of was how happy and super excited she was when you told her you'd met someone and began dating.
"yes mom... we both will be there," you closed your eyes, disappointment in yourself filling the void in your head. you could hear her squeal in the background, telling a voice there with her about the good news. you chewed on your lip anxiously, wanting to cut the call or else you'd break down.
"listen mom, i have t-to go okay? ill call you tomorrow. try not to stress so much," you smiled weakly hearing an "i love you", ending the call after gifting your goodbye. there was no avoiding the mistake you had committed. you wanted to slap some common sense into yourself, because where the hell were you about to find someone?
you clearly remembered the day telling your mom you'd met someone at uni. she was over the moon and wanted to tell everyone but you dismissed the idea, not wanting to rush since you had recently met. you would call her and tell her about him, and she listened so attentively, just like in the movies.
you couldn't bring yourself to tell her when you and max had broken up. your whole life has always been surrounded by being told you needed to be more like your older sister, the pressure of being a golden child laid on you. for once you had something, but that had to get ruined as well.
the scolding, the perfect grades, friends, hell even family. you had to be so careful and live up to their expectations. you loved them, you did, but at times you just felt like moving away was the best idea. and you did just that, the first to move out to a new country, breaking records at uni, and even finding a suitable job.
your boss loved you, and coworkers admired you for the passion and dedication you carried. so why did it have to go all wrong with max? you had an image of him in your head that he was madly in love with you, though you'd later be proven wrong when you found out he was sleeping with his boss. finding them in the act on your 6th month anniversary.
you still can recall the feeling of being unable to breathe, their screams and his pleading going quiet as you could just stare into the room, not once being able to see his eyes. disgust, and rage, but mostly sadness, a heavy heart, and the lump in your throat. he hurt you terribly and you would forever resent that.
after the call, you sat quietly on the couch, hands in your hair as you thought about everything. looking around seeing your bags packed, the blue dress hanging by your room, pictures everywhere. you hated to admit but you were living in a hell, life messy and a disaster. your buzz ringed, seeing through the tiny camera your best friend jude in the frame.
you allowed him in, walking over to the large mirror and wiping away the dry tears, making yourself look more presentable. you looked worn out, eyes droopy and low, lips slightly chapped, and to make matters worse a zit on your chin. you exhaled a breath, keys jiggling as jude came in.
he set his training bag down, took his shoes off, and walked to you, giving you a small hug. "you look terrible," you gave him a warning look, "but lucky you, i brought us food," he spoke cheerfully, the mood inside you going from gloomy to content. "it's raining like crazy, i almost fell coming up. also i brought some packages and your mail," jude continued.
"thank you, i haven't had the time to go down and pick them up! i've been so busy packing and planning last-minute stuff," you groaned, going to the kitchen and washing your hands. "watch, in the next few minutes i'm going to get a call," you theorized. jude pulled out the food and served it into your plates as you grabbed a water for him and a soda for yourself.
"how was training?"
jude shrugged unimpressed, "same old. didn't really have to go in, but they needed me for a small campaign shoot, so i had no choice. also cama and tchou send their hello's."
you and jude spoke amongst yourself. just about each other's days and catching up from the last time you guys were together. you teased him about losing a bet with his little brother, jude whining about how he cheated. new music that came out, and a pop up store that opened lower in downtown.
"so what's got your head in a twist?" jude sipped on his last few ounces of water, leaning his head on his propped-up arm and hand. you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, pick up the dirty dishes, and walk to the sink. "okay don't make fun of me-"
"you're basically asking me too... also no promises since you just made fun of me for losing against jobe," jude chuckled.
"jude."
"oh it's serious then... what did you do?" he saw the serious look on your face, a small worry constructing in his chest because he rarely saw you like this. you close your eyes, feeling the anxiety build in you once again, "i told my mom i was still bringing max..."
jude scoffed in denial, or trying to cope with the confusion, "y/n, you what?"
"i know! i know! i should've just confessed and coughed up the truth but i- i couldn't! she was so excited jude! i feel terrible for lying believe me i do, but after telling her about him and filling her with hope to break her heart, i just c-c-couldn't," you ramble, dishes clattering as you freaked out.
in your head it didn't seem as bad, but fully saying it out loud to jude, seemed even worse. jude grimaced, knowing you had messed up bad especially since the wedding was right around the corner. "i'm just embarrassed... i know they will start something and just talk down on me if i showed up alone."
jude knew how heavy-handed your family could be, often wanting to resent them because he cared for you so much. he saw how physically and mentally they could rain you even with the smallest sentence. they seemed so worried with their lives instead of the ones they should most value and care for.
jude gave you a concerned face, "what?" chuckling nervously when you gasped out, almost being able to see the lit-up light bulb on top of your head. "jude, I'm a genius!"
"well i beg to differ-"
"shut up," you pat your finger against your chin, a mischievous smile on your lip taunting jude's concern even more. "i don't know why i didn't think of this sooner! why don't you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for the wedding that's it!"
jude shook his head, hands coming up to back out of the idea. it was one thing you lying, but now asking you to play pretend was something totally different. "that's not a good idea y/n..." jude clenched his teeth forcing a smile. "oh cmon why not?"
"well, first of all, that's an even bigger lie to your mom. second, pretending would seem impossible. third, i don't want the first time meeting your parents to be a lie because of what happened," jude defended and stated his case.
"it's a huge favor but you'd save my life jude! one weekend and that's it! you have plenty of suits, you're also off this weekend, and they would never suspect a thing! please jude! i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't so desperate," you begged, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.
"it seems like a bad idea... you don't know what you're asking for y/n... were pretending to be a couple when were not! we have to make it believable even under the pressure of the wedding. a theatrical play, a stunt!" jude exclaimed standing up from his chair.
"jude please, please, please! it might feel weird but it's for the night only! after that, we go back to the good old y/n and jude," you followed him as he paced in your living room thinking of his answer. would it be back to normal even if he continued to feel the same for you? the unknown loving feeling he had for you?
the pretending would be hard when all he could hardly think of was you. how he felt recently and how nervous he got around you. he would do anything for you in a heartbeat, but this would break jude further than now. he couldn't fake pretend holding your hand, or kissing your cheek when he meant and wanted to do that with you currently.
as bad as the idea was, here he was hugging you as you cheerfully yelped when he agreed. time moved slowly for him, the sensation of regret and curiosity as what was yet to come from both of you. all he cared for was to make sure you were happy, and if faking being your boyfriend would help you, he was willing to do it, no matter the consequences.
as jude was fixing his hair, you finished setting your makeup with some powder and setting spray. nerves bubbling in you after the first test you encountered last night after your arrival. you let out a laugh at the tiny bed you had to share with jude. seeing his uneasy face even after he offered to sleep on the couch.
"we're running on schedule," you spoke, finishing clasping your jewelry around your hands and rings. jude came behind you, his shirt unbuttoned and abs in full view, as he finished zipping his pants. best friend or not, there was no denying how incredibly sexy jude was. the name should speak for itself, but with the looks and personality he had, it was too good to be true.
"need some help?" he asked seeing you nod slowly and looking down at your feet. he took the necklace, your skin on fire as his fingertips grazed your skin accidentally, almost jumping on the spot, goosebumps grazing your body. he clasped the necklace, grabbing the pendent and fixing it so it laid in the middle. "perfect," he cockliy smirked.
"thank you."
"are you almost ready?" he looked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, you almost stuttered but regained consciousness, "yes, just need to put my dress and shoes on," you turned back quickly furrowing your brows, wanting to slap yourself for allowing yourself to get carried away, or maybe at the uneasy desire in you when seeing jude.
you went to the bathroom, grabbing the lacy undergarments and the blue dress. the color was to die for, the perfect length even with your heels on, the opened back with the front just showing the perfect amount of cleavage, and the whole dress just accentuating your body even more.
you felt the need to throw some water in your face though you couldn't or else it would ruin your makeup. you settled with fanning yourself with your hand, the tense in your chest getting to you as it was becoming real now. you were just pretending with jude. nothing more right?
you looked in the huge light-up mirror, and suddenly the confidence you had dripped away as you thought of jude in the next room over. why did all of a sudden everything feel like it wasn't before? as in, things changed drastically since the night at your apartment? you've never felt this clumsy or as edgy around him.
when you woke up this morning, with jude on top of you laying peacefully, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed, as if it was a natural state and you've done it before. in your own world where the only thing that mattered was him and you. since then you were slightly freaked out, butterflies in your chest when he left or walk into the room.
jude double taked a look as you walked into the room again. the tiny room that felt like a joke to him after walking in hand to hand last night. his eyes roamed you, lips slightly separated as he admired your beauty, heart hammering in his chest. he watched as you grabbed your cheeks, immediately offering to help.
he leaned down, gently grabbing your foot and placing the white jeweled heel on you. your hands were clamped around the small bench cushions, jude looking up then and there to make sure they felt comfortable. once again, his touch felt like fire, playing with your head even more.
when he finished clasping the heel, he extended his hand helping you up. "you look absolutely gorgeous y/n... this dress was made for you," jude croaked, hearing you laugh shakily. "thank you jude. likewise," jude smiled at your reaction, "i mean as in you look super handsome with the suit, not a dress!" you explained.
"i think i got what you meant..." he joked, his eyes roaming uo and down again at you. "good. good. shall we head out?" you swallowed heavily, grabbing your purse, phone, and other stuff you needed for the night. you were in a rush, wanting to get some fresh air or you would explode in the room with jude inside. "lead the way y/n."
jude helped you in an out of the cab, his hand on your bare back as he guided you to the double doors leading into the reception. "how are you feeling? any nerves?" you spoke quietly to him, looking around as people were taking their seats or had their own conversations.
"some but not too many. like you said, it's just for today," he whispered along your ear, gently giving your shoulder a kiss as his hands went to your hips and walked you forward. your mom and aunt gasped, grabbing their dresses and walking towards you, almost sprinting. "here goes nothing," you say.
"oh my god! so you are real!" your mom yelped, making you give her a glare and eyes pleading not to make a scene. "i was starting to think my sweet y/n was lying to me about this boyfriend she had," you almost choked on your saliva, clearing your throat at her words. "i am y/n's mom, what is your name?"
"i'm jude. it's a pleasure to finally meet you ma'am," jude shook her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheeks in a greeting manner, the same with your aunt. jude's hand interlocked with yours, the happiness in your mother's eyes never leaving, almost tearing up at the sight of you with your "boyfriend."
"i can't believe it! it's a miracle, my daughter finally has her first boyfriend," she clapped her hands making you wretched at her choice of wording. you did everything to have her at least praise you once in life, and all it took was to have a boyfriend? you brushed away the glum feeling, jude kissing your hand, distracting you from the small burn in your eyes.
"oh my! look at them! they make such a beautiful pair," your aunt gleamed. "we do, don't we?" jude teased them, "took her a while to say yes to me, but i'm very fortunate to be here," jude resumed. "we're very pleased to have you here, anything you need don't hesitate to ask."
after saying hello to other family friends and cousins, you sat for the ceremony. jude wiped a small tear away after your old school friend finished her vows, slapping his shoulder when he made a small joke about your mascara running. "its not funny! the vows were so beautiful," you said.
"it's like we are watching me before you again," he said making you gasp. "jude what are talking about? you literally cried with me?" you recalled laughing, jude looking around scared if someone was hearing you. "please don't remind me... in my defense, i didn't see that ending at all."
after the ceremony, you and jude greeted other families, and most importantly congratulated the bride and groom. their faces ushered with happiness, overall content with how their day was turning out. you had to excuse yourself from jude at one point, your mom dragging you away for your help. jude was left behind with your dad.
"since she was little, she always hated getting thrown or dragged around," your father spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey. "seems like nothing had changed?" jude asked carefully with a playful smile. "oh not even close! it's my wife doing," he winked.
"jude right?"
"yes sir," jude nodded, presenting the dad talk coming up. "I'm gonna save the unnecessary talk and get straight to the point. it's so weird to see my baby girl all grown up, with the lusting and loving eyes she gives you. you love her very much and i can see that which is why i'm not worried about you hurting or losing her trust."
hell if jude didn't feel guilty before, he did now. he gripped the glass harder, nodding to your dad who looked upset. "she may have told you some stuff about us, but at the end of the day, she's my daughter and i love her the way she is... please just take good care of her for me... she been through enough as it is..."
"i only have good intentions and i promise you i won't ever break her heart," jude promised to your dad, but also himself. he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did break your heart or make you lose the trust you had. max did it once and jude would never do it. even if it meant keeping away these long feelings for you.
when you returned you saw them laughing and chatting away, your heart full of emotions at them getting along. jude was so mature for his age, and it didn't come to a surprise when he got along with your dad so fast. his hand would naturally lay on your back or on your hip.
the next few hours were filled with more people dancing or chatting away. jude insisting you sat on his lap for a picture when the photographer passed, smiling wide, looking like a happy couple. it seemed so natural to you, being this close and intimate you were getting scared at how fast everything was being thrown at you.
"i had to see it for myself! y/n bagging a footballer? never saw that coming," your cousin approached you giving you a high as he dabbed up jude. "jude meet my cousin adrian, he's a huge fan of you, and just successfully signed with a small club," you introduced them to each other, with a huge grin on your face.
jude’s hand snuck around your waist, his thumb drawing shapes as his full attention was with your cousin who spoke about sports. you listened then and there, but your feet began to ache, switching your weight back and forth uncomfortably.
jude was quick to notice, leaving down to your level and asking if you were okay. “i’m fine i promise, these shoes are killing me that’s all,” you reassured with a smile, jude nodding before cutting the conversation after a few minutes. “i’m going to get her a chair and drinks for us,” you froze when he kissed your temple, “i’ll see you around later,” jude said his goodbyes dragging you along slowly.
like before, your chest beat faster, if he stared, smiled, even touched or got near you, you’d get nervous immediately. the familiar string of falling for someone filling the empty space left behind inside you. he was super good at pretending and it didn’t feel like that anymore.
it felt real. was he just pretending? or was he actually taking this fake relationship seriously and real?
all you could do was stare at his face, mostly his gorgeous brown eyes as he helped you get seated and served you some water, making sure you were fully okay. he sat next to you, his hand interlocking with his, and placing it on his lap as he paid attention to his surroundings. you become quiet, so into your head and questioning his every move now.
“jude?” you spoke softly, a confused smile on your face as he immediately turned to you with a soften gaze. you inhaled a breath, unable to look away from him, his ínstese state causing you to feel intimidated. “is everything okay?” he asked, leaning slightly over to you, pushing a small string of hair back. “is it supposed to feel like this?”
“what is?” jude shook his head not understanding.
“us? why am i getting the idea we’re no longer pretending…”
jude tore his gaze from yours, the panic growing more intense when he wouldn't reply back. "jude please... don't push me away. are we just pretending or has something changed?" you persisted, your hand gliding against his back to get his attention. jude debated, afraid of losing you right here and now, or having the possibility to maybe hear you feel the same way.
"come with me," jude demanded, helping your and dragging you to the dance floor where no one could really see you besides the other happy couples. his hands circled your waist, as yours went to his shoulders, unable to look away from him. "tell me i'm not the only one who feels it..."
"tell me what you feel y/n... what your head is begging to scream out..."
"i can't, i don't know jude. i'm afraid yet so confused? since we got here yesterday things feel different between us. it happened again when we had breakfast, when you put my necklace on, my heels! all of this is giving me mixed signals jude... i haven't felt this in so long.." you confess, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he pulls you closer and kisses your head.
"like now. i can't if you just did that out of pretending or because it came naturally to you. i've never had to worry about what you think till recently... it feels strange... yet ican't help but get hope that it means real," you rest your forehead on his shoulder blinking away the tears that slowly begin to let out.
jude could see how this was affecting you, holding your lower body with one hand and the other smoothing down your spine, feeling how you immediately let loose and relaxed by his praise and touch. jude could also feel the heavy weight beginning to feel heavier if he kept his true hidden feelings away. it was a sign, and there was no going back.
jude's hand cradled your chin, forcing you to look up at his, his brown eyes gazing over your teary face. he was truly amazed and so in love with you it made his head feel cloudy, almost dizzy, at how perfect and pure you were. his tummy fluttering at his gorgeous girl who was confused at how she felt... but in this moment jude knew you were in deep as well.
"tell me something, when you see me, does it make your heart race, like i'm the only person standing there?" you nod, "does your head tell you one thing but your gut tells you another when you see me?" you nod again, this time blowing the air out of jude's lungs. "my head tells me i shouldn't, but my gut tells me i waited so long that maybe it's now to late for us..."
"why would it be too late y/n...?" you shrug your shoulders. "because i don't you feel the same way i'm feeling." jude smiled weakly, his thumb brushing along your jaw, hearing your hum in delight, "how can you know when you haven't asked me?"
your eyes search his for any sign but you don't find any, "what are you feel in this moment jude?"
"that i'm the luckiest man to be here with you tonight," he says proudly, "that i don't think we've wasted any time, rather i feel we're barely getting started on this new branch of our lives... i can't pretend when i'm with you... because pretending to hide how i feel has been so hard, when all i want is you. all of you y/n..."
"i had to see you go through that idiot max, how he hurt you? when you were hurt i was even more devastated because i couldn't protect you. i'd do anything to make you happy or laugh because it's what i want to do. i want to be the only one who gets to do that. i promised your dad but myself also, ask me what the promise is..." jude insisted.
"what's your promise jude?"
"that i'd never break your heart or give you a reason to doubt me. that from this day forward, i completely will give you my all to care and relish our love once and for all. i'm tired of waiting and holding back of what should've existed and started when i first met you."
"jude-"
"i want to give you my all, to be devoted and in love with you forever. you have no idea what you make me feel, think! i wake up longing for you, at work, at my own home. you're the only girl i want and need in my life y/n," jude confessed, the weight finally lifted of his shoulders, now being able to feel like a free man.
you closed your eyes, breathing out a happy chuckle in relief. you sniffled, "you've ruined me jude, completely ruined me with your words, your confession! look at me, i'm worse than when we finished watching the vow!" you joked, hand nestling on the nape of his next, stroking his soft skin.
"you love me jude?"
"more than what you think."
"i need you to know i'm giving you my all as well. I've always sensed how different what we had was, and come to find out, i was just scared and felt the need to push away because you didn't feel the same way. what i feel for you never happened with who shall not be named..." jude chuckles, closing his eyes and swallowing a heavy gulp like you.
"i'm so hopelessly in love with you jude bellingham... so in love, i want to grow old with you, make every promise we said out loud come true. i knew i loved you as soon as we laid eyes, and you stumbled over your words," jude squinted his eyes, shaking his head embarrassed. "kiss me jude."
jude kissed you exactly how he dreamed. your lips soft and sweet as he imagined, even better. cradling your chin to tilt and pulling the kiss deeper. it felt so right, so amazing, so passionate. he was lost, his tongue entering your parted lips when you let out a small gasp and whimper. there was no more pretending, this was more real than ever.
"could get lost in how you taste. how you feel. i love you so much angel."
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wildestdreamsblog · 3 days
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Latibule Season 2: III
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which he lost his latibule.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!
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GIF by urmingirl
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Masterlist, Latibule 2.II
Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.
“Hyung, is it always like that?”
“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.
“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”
Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.
Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.
“What brought this on?”
“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”
Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.
He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.
“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”
Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.
“Why?”
“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”
“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.
“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.
Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”
To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”
“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”
Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”
 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.
“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.
“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”
The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.
He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.
And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.
One morning, it finally happened. There you were.
Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.
That was you, he was sure.
Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.
“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.
Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”
Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.
“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”
“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.
Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.
“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”
Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.
“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.
—-
Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.
Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  
Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.
Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.
So where was he?!
He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.
He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.
“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.
“At Seoul, hyung-“
“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”
“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”
Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”
Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”
“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.
“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“
His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.
There was you.
It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.
He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.
Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?
But no.
He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.
It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.
With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”
But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.
“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.
And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.
How did this happen to you?
Was it because of the incident?
Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?
Or did he miss all the glaring signs?
Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”
Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”
The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.
You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.
Until it did.
Until you understood each word written in that book.
“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”
Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?
Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.
You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.
He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.
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298 notes · View notes
dwaekkilinos · 2 days
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savior complex (pt. 1) | bang chan
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summary: Your father had wielded you to become a machine; a weapon. And a machine you would become. Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Repeat. He taught you how to protect; specifically how to protect your family. But he never taught you how to survive with other groups, especially when their leader seems to have it out for you.
pairing: bang chan x fem!reader rating/genre: 18+ Minors DNI | strangers/enemies to lovers + zombie apocalypse au, angst, fluff, smut word count: 19.9K chapter summary: you'd always known the end, and it had always known you. you just didn't know the beginning would be waiting for you when your time finally came. warnings/notes: zombie apocalypse au so . . . blood, guts, gore, sad, sad, sad. beware. lots of inspo from every zombie thing i've literally ever seen (twd, tlou, train to busan, etc.), typos probably, parental death, actions of violence and murder, religious TRAUMA, religious undertones, reader does not believe in god but she's deeply influence by it bc of her childhood and it haunts her, reader comes from a small toen and it's not explicitly stated where she's from but hollows are mentioned, hunting, reader wishes for death multiple times, chan goes by chris, no smut in this chapter but there will be in every chapter after, i think that's it but let me know if i missed anything, and enjoy! <3
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chapter one: i know the end (and it knows me) ( series masterlist | next → )
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Sometimes you felt like a ghost. It happened when the world was so silent that you could almost hear the beat of your unsteady heart pounding in your chest; when everyone else was asleep and you stayed up, eyes watchful and searching for threats. That was when you felt like the lost faces that haunted you.
It hadn't always been this way, at least not until the world ended. Most of the time you tried not to think about it. You tried not to think about much except survival these days.
Because that was smart. Surviving was smart. Anything else was stupid; anything else would get you killed.
Ironic, how you used to fear that very thing. Death. Now it was all you knew.
The apocalypse had come.
You knew how it sounded. Honestly, you didn't believe it when it first happened. You had been too afraid to admit it; too scared that if you did, you could never go back. There was no going back anyway. That was something you wished you had known back then. And as you sat on a log in the middle of those dark woods, overlooking your group who all slept silently while you stayed up, bloody knife in hand, and eyes watching for threats, it was hard to ignore the fact that this was your cruel reality.
Because the reality of it all was: you were living on borrowed time, trying your best to do right by your father and keep your family alive. You'd faltered that night, dotting the line between protection and predation.
And now . . . now you couldn't help but think about the beginning. How you would've never ended up like this if things had been different. But things hadn't been different. Things had happened exactly the way they had, and it'd left you with rot in your bloodstream and hate in your heart.
That was what made you clutch the knife closer, nearly cutting your own flesh. Because things hadn’t been different, but they also hadn’t always been this way. You hadn’t always been like . . . this.
You supposed it was because it was easy to kneel when you were just a girl. It was easy to ignore the ever-present scabs on your knees when you didn’t know any better. It was easy to tear yourself down the middle, pulling stitches from the back of your legs when you knew it’d all be re-sewn by morning. It was easy back then when the world hadn’t died.
From the moment you were brought into the world, barely kicking and silently screaming like it was a sin to voice your pain, you had been taught to be that girl; that easy, complacent girl with not so much as a rotten thought. From the moment you were born, you had been taught the foundation of the Church and its vocation, and it had carved its way into your rotten flesh even when the world was no more.
At age four, you were in the pews, listening to the words of God while creating imaginary friends in the statues. At age seven, communion. Then at age eight, you had begun to become an altar girl, fetching and carrying, ringing the altar bell, bringing up the gifts and the book, among other things—essentially being a servant to God. At age fourteen, confirmation. At fifteen, your mother doused you in holy water before your first date with a boy from school. Sixteen, heartbreak, praying to God and begging for him to help ease it all, only to be left with no response . . . even after all you had done for him.
Seventeen and the stitches down your legs remained undone, the scriptures now more of a question than a statement. Then . . . eighteen, the timer clicked into place, and you felt yourself begin to rot along with the world, forcing you to realize your entire life was just a cycle of kneeling before God, praying, and asking for forgiveness for your sins.
It had been easy to kneel when you were just a girl; when you didn’t know any better. And then it happened.
It.
Armageddon.
The Rapture.
The fucking apocalypse.
It didn’t matter what you called it. Doomsday was still doomsday even dressed up with fancy scriptures and sacred wine.
The apocalypse had come. Humans were deemed horrible creatures by some almighty who you didn't give a fuck to acknowledge. It didn't matter. Someone or something had deemed the human race unworthy.
The apocalypse had come, and you were deemed worthless. You were made to die. It was inevitable.
The apocalypse had come. There was talk that it had begun in the North. But much wasn’t known in your town. Now you realized they tried to keep it a secret. It was a way of controlling everyone, you supposed, but not like it mattered much now.
That was just how things were. Your mother refused to let you and your younger sister watch the news, refused to let you search anything about what was going on in the world, adamant that everything was lies and those lies would cloud your mind. A religious town bordering on a commune that resembled a cult perhaps just a tad too much. You realized all this now, of course, but back then your knees were still covered in scabs from kneeling before a God who would never come. Back then your mother kept you kneeling until the final bell tolled, her hand firmly clutching your shoulder to keep you in place.
You were only eighteen then. And while the outside world was torn apart month by month, its people haunted by death piled upon death, your town continued on as it always had. The whispers of a war that would end the world were just whispers, covered up by scriptures that the local preacher would sight every Sunday morning just after you’d collected the eggs from the chicken coop and put on your best dress like your mother had always taught you.
But it was different for you, even back then. Because while it had been easy to kneel when you were a girl, you had begun to grow. Eighteen then, but you had begun to see the flaws within the Church when you were sixteen. And by eighteen, you knew better.
By eighteen, you could see the sweat beading along the preacher’s forehead. By eighteen, you could hear wavering in your mother’s voice when she proclaimed that this was just a test. That this was meant to happen. That the Bible had always predicted this, and if you remained faithful, then you would be saved . . . spared.
But by eighteen, you knew better.
It took one quiet night and a hammering heart for you to sneak into your father’s study and head straight for this desktop. It took even less time to discover what had become of the world. One. Two. Three clicks and then . . .
You remembered the choking feeling bubbling up your chest as your eyes scanned the news articles. A virus. One so horrible and unforgiving that it could take a healthy vessel, and within twenty-four hours, the body would succumb to death. But, you’d seen stuff like this before, right? You knew there had been plenty of diseases and viruses and they all had cures. They all had to have cures. They had to.
That was just the thing: no matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t find any article that explained how this virus came about. It was unknown, deadly, spreading rapidly, and there was no way of telling when it’d reach your town. It was just . . . just . . . (It was the first time you truly felt helpless.)
You remembered staying up with the sun, looking for answers, only to come out empty-handed. And when your father discovered you in his study that morning, you nearly confessed right away, sobbing into his arms. But no shame was brought upon you that day.
Your father had been a good man. He had loved you so. He had loved his family, no matter the consequences or conditions.
This town, your town, was small. It consisted of around only three thousand people give or take, all of which were either Christian, secluded, or . . . your father. In all the years you had been alive, not once had your father stepped into the Church. You never asked. You never worried. Your mother just always told you your father was busy every single time, and you believed her because back then, you’d trusted her with all of you.
As you grew, your suspicions of him did, too, but you remained silent as you always had in life. And it was only until that morning when he wrapped you in his arms and let you cry into his shoulder, did you realize why he never entered the Church, why he never spoke the prayers your mother praised, why neighbors would talk of his name only in hushed conversations.
He didn’t believe.
No, he believed in something just not . . . this sacred word your town so desperately worshipped. And that morning, he told you the truth. From his childhood to how he ended up in a town like this. He told you it all, and then he told you the truth. He told you how your mother was scared (how she always had been) and how one day he hoped with enough trying, she’d see the world for what it was ( . . . she never did). And then he told you about the virus, and everything was so much clearer.
The town had everyone convinced this was some kind of test. There was no virus to them. This was the reaping. The scriptures were true to them. And so every Sunday, you were forced to acknowledge that Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death—the Four Horsemen of the apocalypse had come to earth with the power to destroy humanity.
That was how it had been explained to your town, and all its people believed. A sickness had struck the world, yes, they told that much truth, but they chalked it all up to being some kind of plot point in God’s plan. To top it off, it was said that if the townspeople all repented and did right by his name, then salvation would be given.
That was what was told, and that was what was believed.
You remembered the preacher’s voice even now.
Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, "Come." I looked, and behold, a white horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer.
— Revelation 6:1–2
That scripture haunted you just as your father’s face did, but back then you hadn’t realized the detriment it would have on you. Back then, you played your part. Back then, you dressed as your mother advised, went to church, and listened, and then, when all was said and done and your mother had gone to her room, you snuck off to accompany your father on his hunts. And during those times, you’d learn the truth.
While the two of you hunkered down, waiting for deer to pass through your side of the woods, he told you about what was going on with the rest of the world. He explained how the CDC had claimed this thing; Pestilence (as your town believed) was some kind of virus, yes, only they wouldn't release the survival rate except for a few things that stated it was deadly, spread rapidly, and anyone could have it, but by the time symptoms had started to kick in, it would be too late.
As the weeks went by, as the more hunting extravaganzas you went on with your father piled up, his news became more worrisome. At first, the virus was contained in the North of the world, but as it took more lives and less information about it was being provided to the public . . . people began to panic. Hysteria spread throughout the world. Cases of this unknown virus peaked, and the government released statement after statement informing the public that face masks would be required to prevent the virus from spreading and travel restrictions would soon be put into place.
Only by that time, it was too late.
Carriers of this unknown virus had already traveled far and near, spreading the disease throughout the world. This so-called Pestilence might have only been given reign to a quarter of the world, but his disease had spread farther than his radius.
And while you had been young, you realized that this virus had only one purpose: to kill. There was no survival rate. No hope.
The world shut down soon after more and more people started dropping like flies, succumbing to the miserable disease that left them with boils and blisters covering their skin. Hospitals became overrun. Schools were wiped out with kids coming home with this deadly virus. Workplaces were abandoned, the people wishing to stay at home with their families, too afraid to step outside without any real knowledge of how this virus worked.
Your town remained oblivious, too, as the region shut down, gates being made so no one could enter or leave. It was safer that way they claimed. All of those who could be saved would be saved and helping those seeking a refuge was against the rules. It all felt like some kind of sick plan if you had anything to say about it.
By the time your father had taught you how to shoot your first deer without you sniffling in fear, Vaccines were finally attempted, but nothing worked; the disease only spread, and more people died.
Then . . . it all just stopped.
But your town continued to spread its lies.
The story remained the same even all these years later. You remembered how while you had learned the virus was supposedly coming to an end, your town still painted the picture of the Horsemen. Tales of Pestilence’s reign still remained.
They went on and on about how he rose from the depths of Hell. Pestilence had come. He, who sat on his white steed, had a bow, a crown that had been gifted to him by his gods had come, and when he had, he went out conquering. And so he did.
Until he was put to rest; until his conquering had come to an end. You listened with half a heart as the preacher went on and on about how his time had ended, yes, but this was not the end. All you had to do was keep praying, keep repenting, keep . . . kneeling, and you’d be saved.
But you knew better.
While others would attend midnight mass in addition to morning, you claimed you had to pray on your own, and when your mother had left with your sister on her hip, you snuck off with your father to learn of the world. You snuck off to better your shooting arm, to seek comfort in the only person who seemed to have their head screwed on right, to shoot ducks and geese and deer and everything in order to keep your town fed while everyone else prayed to a God that wasn’t doing half your work. And yet, every time, every kill, your father knelt beside the animal and prayed, until you had begun to do the same.
You weren’t sure why he did it. You had never asked. You never thought you needed to. (Now you would’ve done anything to know the answer.)
And so . . . life went on like that. Completely cut off from the world without the help of the internet your father provided for the two of you, life went on.
The virus no longer spread further, and many believed it was all just some hoax. News stations came to life again, but not much else was restored. That was how everyone found out the virus had concluded. Hell, even you remember being twenty-one years old, having your first legal shot with your father in the middle of the woods while the two of you watched news reporter after news reporter claim the virus had mutated and mutated so much to the point our bodies had accumulated a natural resistance to it.
But you couldn't believe it.
Three whole years of this deadly disease taking out population upon population, and then it all ceased. It felt almost too good to be true.
Of course, the town believed this too. Pestilence had conquered, and that was just the problem.
Every day, day in and day out, words spread throughout the hollow, the word in the Church mutated each week, even your mother who had spent the last three years praying to Jesus, Joseph, and Mary; your mother who had gone through rosary after rosary begging for God to have mercy on your family; your mother who had always forced you to attend those days at church on Sunday went around the house, boarding up the windows and hiding the special silverware in the basement, claiming that he would come next.
He has conquered, she had hissed over your shoulder when you and your father came back from one of your hunts.
Pestilence's reign had ended (according to your mother, who you were almost certain had a few screws loose). You didn’t believe it for a second, ignoring your mother's desperate ramblings.
War will come, she warned.
War will come.
But . . . you knew if something did come, it wouldn’t be this War.
And then . . . then he did.
The first sighting of the dead coming back was spotted just months after the virus that had plagued millions had ceased. And this time . . . the town allowed its folk to see the reports. Even your mother had brought the television from the basement to witness the dead rise . . . or rather . . . War. The news stations had captured a recording of these . . . people; people who had suffered from the virus coming back, and then with only their teeth, tearing any live thing apart. The recording was aired all across the world, fear, and hysteria spreading like wildfire.
The government was still up and running at this point with only one mission: to shoot down these seemingly reanimated corpses before they could cause more harm. People believed this to be a fluke, but your mother's words had stuck with you.
War will come.
It was all a little hazy now, but you remembered bits and pieces of the world back then. War had been quick, ruthless, and determined.
This was no man. This was War.
And it all became clear soon after.
While Pestilence had been silent, War had wanted an audience.
The things he could do; the people he could hurt . . . it was all so gutting. Those lost to the virus kept coming back, all with one purpose: destruction. With one bite, their victims would soon fall ill to that same virus, and then once it had taken their body, they’d come back, reanimated with the same gruesome purpose.
The government finally fell when the dead could no longer be stopped. Quarantines dropped, people ran, and everything just . . . stopped. These creatures tore through cities, sinking their teeth into civilians. And you watched it all on the television, until that, too fell, leaving the rest of the world in the dark.
That was when you realized just how real all of this was. That was when you realized the past three years of hunting with your father was not just something the two of you would look back on and laugh about one day when this virus was over. No . . . it seemed . . . it seemed you couldn’t quite see the end or maybe . . . maybe you could and that was the problem all along.
Your father, the man he was, tried to remind you that this was not War; that this was not the supposed God’s plan everyone was convinced of in your godforsaken hollow. And you tried to hear him, but for a while, you wished to be like everyone else in the town. You wished you could believe this was some greater plan. You wished you could believe that this was all because of some Horseman . . . but you knew better, and your father seemed to know this as well.
(And yet, when you thought back on it now, the stages in which the world ended still presented themselves as the Horsemen in your troubled mind.)
Because, well, you supposed that was truly when the world had ended—the day War came.
War will come, your mother had warned, and you knew that to be true the day the electricity stopped working. War had come, and he'd taken civilization with him. And while he reigned over the quarter of the world he'd been gifted, the rest of the world lay in the dark, trying to navigate throughout this new world.
From time to time you had heard talk of distant wars. You, however, had never seen one.
But War's ruthless hand still reached your town.
There was no news or contact with the outside world other than the people you could see with your own eyes. No transportation, no government, no nothing. It was said that cars had even been abandoned on highways as people tried to leave town to find their families. But they never got far; not with this newfound order bestowed upon the earth.
Because truly . . . War did not need to come to earth to corrupt it.
The government had fallen, the world had ended, the apocalypse had begun and that was all it took for chaos to ensue. People became their worst selves at the end of the world, you'd been told all your life through media upon media. But you had to disagree. You thought, perhaps, the end of the world brought out who people truly were deep inside. It allowed people to let go of civility.
And you discovered people really were perhaps even worse than this supposed War himself. Or rather a product of War and his righteous hand.
(Although, how righteous could he truly be?)
While War reigned, the rest of the world scavenged. Your family stood stagnant in your childhood home, holding up there for as long as you could. It was still warm when the second wave hit. You knew you'd need to find a different shelter when the time came.
The cold wasn't your only problem either. People were at their worst. When the news broke out in your town, the scriptures they held so dear began to fall apart. A lot left, some stayed, and others turned on each other, leaving houses with bloodstained splatters and a fear of thy neighbor. Your family stayed, however. Your mother read scriptures every day. Your father recited the truth. And they argued, while you sat by the window, terrified out of your mind as you watched the empty streets.
That was when you realized another truth about yourself. You were just about to turn twenty-two, the world had gone to shit, and you had never been so scared. Pestilence. War. Famine. Death. Their names raged on inside your head and it was as if you were still just a young girl, kneeling in church despite the scabs. Except now, you were a girl who could no longer kneel in church, and yet you were still so scared.
It felt cruel. Perhaps even unreal.
The scriptures had predicted this—the four harbingers coming down to scorn the earth. But you hadn't believed it. You were forced to now.
It was War’s reign back then. But Death would come one day. He had come to kill you all; to finish off everything his brothers hadn't touched, and one day he would.
It had been predicted. The words stuck in your head even now.
When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, "Come." I looked, and behold, a pale horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth.
— Revelation 6:7–8
Your mother told you long ago of these scriptures. When you were a child, you'd cover your head with your blankets, hiding from the mysteries of the night. Somewhere in your innocent mind, you'd convinced yourself the devil himself would find his way into your room, wrap his bony hand around your ankle, and drag you to the pits of Hell.
Back then you'd feared death. You'd done everything to steer far from its clutches.
She’s afraid of the world, your peers would hiss under their breath, not knowing you'd heard every word. And you knew they were right. You knew you had always been a scared kid, trying your hardest to keep the monsters at bay.
You wished you'd realized there had been no real monsters . . . yet. You would've lived more. Now you knew the consequences.
Now there was no more living, just surviving.
Still, sometimes you found yourself missing it; missing life. It was a bitter thought—what could've been had the world not ended all those years ago.
Back then—before the end—you'd feared death.
How far will this go? you remembered thinking back then when it was still War’s reign. How long until things are normal?
You didn't have the stomach back then to come to terms with the truth. You barely remembered it now.
But you did remember the day everything truly changed for you.
Up until that day, you'd been following your father's orders, huddling up in your home with your mother and little sister as the four of you survived day by day. Then . . . your house had been broken into, the intruder coming in through your window.
Back then you had feared death. You had thought you were going to die.
You'd thought this up until the very last scream ripped through your throat just as your father emerged from the shadows, a look on his face you’d never seen, moments before everything went red. You remembered that to this day. While everything else was blurry, that moment was clear. You could still feel the blood splatter on your face as you watched your father—the man who used to tie your shoes for you before you hopped on the school bus—kill a man before your very eyes, ripping out his jugular with his bare teeth.
Once a girl who could no longer kneel in church, became one painted with the blood from another. And you remembered a small part of you—the part that had once knelt so much her knees had turned to scabs—that this was all War’s fault.
You thought it until you watched the man pale, falling to your childhood bedroom floor with a thud. You remembered how his eyes stayed wide open, locked on you as he gurgled and choked on his blood, bleeding out onto your pink carpet. He didn't blink. Not once. Not even at all. They stayed cold and empty as your father breathed heavily above him.
And then you looked at him.
Your father was a good man. He was kind and just, despite the town. He believed in science and facts. He wanted the truth. But none of that mattered if his family was at stake.
Your father was a good man. He loved you, and he would’ve done anything for you.
Your father was a good man.
Your father had ripped out another man’s jugular in front of you.
Your father was a good man.
Your father had killed someone.
This was the end. You knew it, and it knew you, too.
(It wasn’t talked about, and you never brought it up again. He simply embraced you in a tight hug and kissed your forehead, leaving a smudge of blood from the man in doing so, and whispered apologies that would never sink deeper than your skin.
(Now you wished you would’ve told him you understood. Now you would’ve looked at him and seen an image of yourself staring right back. Now you would’ve hugged him back.))
That was all it took before your father took it upon himself to gather your mother and little sister, put all necessities in the car, and collect enough portable gasoline as he could before the four of you set off down the road. Where you were going was undetermined. There was no knowing . . . because there was nowhere to go.
The world had ended. There was nothing left. You just had to go.
You have to grow up. No more kid stuff, your father said to you that night on the road while your mother and little sister were fast asleep in the back of the car. One day I might not be here to protect you. You have to learn to protect yourself.
And you'd promised him you would. Because you had to. You had been old enough then, after all. You had been twenty-one . . . technically an adult.
(Now, however, you realized you had still been too young. Twenty-one wasn't old enough to face the end of the world.)
But . . . what happens when a scared young girl is forced to grow up too soon? She turns into a machine.
Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Repeat.
Your father had borne that burden back then, when you first set off on the road. The car hadn't lasted long. Not that it mattered. The world was a wasteland anyway. Walking from town to town on the vacant streets and highways was nothing new now.
You just have to survive, he kept telling you. Survive long enough to keep them alive.
And you always knew what he meant. He was training you for the day when he would be no more. Because when that day came, you would be the one left in charge. He'd turned you into a machine because that was the world you lived in. You were the oldest. Your sister was barely five years old back then. And your mother . . . your mother who once believed this was all some greater plan, was now convinced that if she prayed hard enough it'd stop Famine from following after his ruthless brother.
It was your job to remember what your father had taught you when Pestilence first came to reign—how to hunt, how to shoot a shotgun, and now . . . how to survive.
And when Famine came; when you caught sight of the words Famine has risen spray painted on a billboard on the side of a highway, reminding you of your sick home. It was then you finally learned how to survive. You didn't realize how hard it would be until a year after Famine's birth, your father had passed because of you (because of a stupid decision that you had made which you still couldn't bring yourself to acknowledge).
Survival became all that you knew after that.
Your father was gone. It was just like he had warned. You were in charge now, and you had one purpose: keep your family alive.
The burden became yours to bear.
This was your purgatory and you'd do well to repent for what you'd done; for the man you'd sent out to die; for the father you'd lost.
Survive, survive, survive. It was all you knew.
And when the final Horseman rose, you knew what you had to do. It didn’t matter if it killed you, you couldn’t let your family die at the hands of one of those . . . creatures.
Death had risen. The entire world was a wasteland filled with undead and wars made by man.
If you crossed paths with one of those creatures and let them lay a finger on your family, your oath to your father would be broken. Death would kill you all.
So you kept going, trying to outrun the inevitable.
Because you had to. For him. For your father. For the ghosts that haunted you.
Your father had wielded you to become a machine. And a machine you would become.
Sleep with one eye open. Find food. Tread on until dark. Repeat.
The routine was ingrained in your brain, going on and on like a mantra. You couldn't escape that. Not that it mattered. Survival mattered. Keeping your group, your sister, your mother, and your family alive mattered. They were all that mattered. You would skip as many meals as your body would let you if it meant they'd stay fed.
Sometimes you found yourself laughing at how naive you had been in the past. At twenty-five now, you were equal parts machine and woman, still oozing blood when wounded despite your protests. You didn't tremble at the sight of blood now. You didn't fear death.
When you were a kid, death was your greatest fear. Now, you envied it. Envied the fact you had to walk the earth; the same earth the dead destroyed. Because you couldn't die. That was the harsh truth: you couldn't die.
You'd feared death for so long and now as you sat awake, keeping watch while your group slept, you yearned for the clutches of death to drag you into nothingness. It was almost laughable.
In a world where people now fought for their lives, trying to outrun the dead, you wished to succumb to death. You knew it was wrong, and you'd never speak it aloud, but you yearned for it. This world was shit. Complete and utter shit, and you wanted to give up. Everything in you wanted to just wait like some brainless sitting duck and let Death or disease or even those wretched beasts you heard groaning in the dead of night have their way with your hollow body.
But you couldn't . . . not when you promised your father you'd protect them. He'd died for you, and it was your duty to keep your family safe. Your duty.
You couldn't die, not when you had to keep them alive.
So you let yourself turn into a machine.
And a ruthless machine you had watched yourself become.
That night had been enough evidence of this. Because that night as you sat on a log, slowly dragging yourself out of the past and into the present, you realized one thing. A bloody knife sat in your hand while you watched over your sleeping group, eyes searching for any sign of the dead, and that was when it dawned on you that you had been right all those years ago—the end of the world brought out who people truly were.
You were a machine. You didn't feel. You couldn't.
Glancing down at the bloody knife in your hand, you realized you hadn't felt anything that night.
That night you'd done something you never thought you would. That night your group was attacked by a man with a gun; a man who wanted to harm; a man who had put his hands on your little sister. She was only eight going on nine, and she was your responsibility, and as soon as his hand clamped down over her shoulder while he held a gun to her head, threatening to pull the trigger unless you gave up all your food, you lost it.
Everything went black. You couldn't see. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even think. You just felt this pure blinding rage.
When you finally regained your sight, you realized what you'd done—you'd killed the man.
No, killed was too vague.
Like the true machine you had become, you had slaughtered him; the bloody knife in your hand was evidence enough of that.
The man was dead, a chunk of his jugular ripped out while he clutched the many stab wounds piercing his stomach. And you . . . you stood above him, eyes wide, bloody knife in hand, and the bitter taste of blood on your tongue.
You'd never killed anyone before. You'd put people out of their misery, but you'd never taken another life like this. You'd never had to.
But you had that night.
And now you paid the consequences.
It had been hours since then. No one had spoken a word since. And your sister . . . your little sister had only looked at you once since then, and you could see the utter terror her round eyes held. Normally she would sleep by your side, but she'd curled up next to your mother that night.
She was afraid of you, and you couldn't blame her. You had once given your father the same look.
So you sat alone on that damned log, bloody knife in hand as you thought back on how you managed to end up in this Hell. Sometimes you felt like a ghost, and now you knew why.
Your brows pinched together. You couldn't help but think: is this what your father had intended?
How much of a machine had he meant for you to become? Were you supposed to clutch onto the part of yourself that was still human? Or had becoming a monster been part of the deal when you'd signed off your soul for machine parts?
You weren't sure. You weren't really sure of anything anymore.
Your sister had looked at you like you were one of the monsters that plagued your earth, slowly destroying it region by region.
Were you no better than the dead to her?
You swallowed hard.
Had you become a monster?
“You did what you had to do,” you heard a deep voice from behind you, perhaps answering your thoughts.
But you didn't jump as you turned to see Felix sit down on the log beside you, exhaustion weaving through his delicate features. You didn't speak a word, just stared at the side of his face for a second before you glanced back down at the bloody knife in your hand.
You did what you had to do.
You nearly laughed. It was just like him to say such things.
You see: Lee Felix had joined your group around the same time Famine took his reign, and ever since then he'd been following you around like your own personal shadow. That was three years ago now. Your father had saved him, offering him to join your family on the road. Perhaps your father had seen something in him. Or maybe he had just saved him simply because that was just who your father was: a hero.
Not that it mattered. You'd taken a liking to Felix, too. He was kind.
Kind had been rare back then. It still was.
And Felix stayed kind.
When your father passed, Felix stuck by you. Your mother had begun to look at you as if you were a stranger, and your little sister still had been too young to understand much. Felix had made life easier.
You'd taught him everything you knew partly because you needed to and partly because you liked being around him as if he were the younger brother you’d never had. Little bird, you called him . . . because you'd taught him everything. You'd taught him how to survive. And sometimes you thought maybe you would've been friends outside of this. If things were different, if you'd met in a world where the apocalypse hadn't happened . . . then you'd like to think you could have met; that your paths would've crossed.
But things weren't different. You weren't even sure if you could let him in entirely. Your friendship would surely put him in some sort of jeopardy. Because, really, it all came down to survival, and you needed him to live. You didn't care what happened to yourself. You just needed to stay alive long enough to make sure they'd all make it.
That still didn't stop the feeling of relief that washed over you as soon as you felt him lean into you, arm touching yours. He was trying to comfort you in the way that he knew, and you couldn't help but lean against him further.
He was still just as kind as the day you'd crossed paths.
But you?
Well . . .
“I ripped his throat out . . . " you heard yourself roughly mutter before you felt the words tumble from your tongue. You lifted a hand to your blood-stained lips and swallowed. “I ripped . . . throat . . . his . . . with my teeth.” You swallowed once again, harder this time as your eyes drifted to your little sister's sleeping figure. She had been so scared. You had done that. You had scared her. “She looks at me like I’m a monster.”
”You’re not."
“Lix."
“You’re not,” he reiterated, his voice as harsh as he could manage (which was not harsh at all) while he clutched your blood-stained hand and took it into his. “You did what you had to do.”
Your eyes flicked down to your hands. But you didn't look at him. You couldn't. You just kept thinking and thinking and seeing that look on your sister's face. And then . . . then you felt yourself say. ”She says all life is precious. She cries when we have to put down a squirrel for Christ’s sake. I should’ve known. I should’ve—”
”She’s just a kid."
“I didn’t have to kill him,” you continued. “There was a point where I could’ve knocked him out. I thought about it. And I still killed him.” Your eyes finally snapped to his then. “I wanted to kill him, Lix.”
A muscle in Felix’s jaw twitched. ”It’s people like him that make me wonder if this world got it all right,” he admitted after a second. “I’m glad he’s dead. I just wish I could’ve been the one to do it.”
Your breath hitched at his words, not because they'd shocked you . . . but rather because you found yourself agreeing. But that wasn't . . . right. Felix was kind. You were not. He was good, and you . . .
”You don’t mean that,” you mumbled, squeezing his hand. “You’re not . . . “
”Not what?” Felix countered, eyes searching yours. “Hmm? Not what?”
You blinked, your throat constricting. ”Too far gone,” you choked out.
His brows twitched, his expression softening. ”Neither are you."
His hand touched your face a second later, his thumb wiping the dried blood from your chin. You weren't a monster in his eyes. You were just his friend. He didn't fear you, but you knew he should've.
But for a second, you let yourself forget this. Instead, you closed your eyes, allowing him to clean your face of the man's spilled blood. And when he was done, your eyes fluttered open just in time to see him try to reach for the knife in your hand, probably to release it from your tight hold.
However, you shifted it out of his grasp. His eyes snapped to yours then, questioning.
You offered a weak smile—something you didn't do often, but would for him. ”Sleep,” you hummed, patting his shoulder. “We need your brute strength in the morning.”
”We need your brain more,” he countered, tapping a finger to your forehead.
”Sleep, little bird."
He rolled those round brown eyes. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."
Nevertheless, Felix listened to you. He shifted down onto the ground, resting his head on the log, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes closed. And you watched him until you were sure he was resting soundly. Then, your eyes went back to watching, making sure to keep your promise to your father.
But just as you were sure it was just you and the silence of the night again, you heard Felix’s voice filter through your ears, ”You’re not too far gone."
You swallowed hard but said nothing.
You're not too far gone.
Oh, how wrong he had been.
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As if like some sort of phantom, your knees had begun to itch like they used to after mass all those years ago. For the first few days, you tried to ignore it, writing it off as poison ivy or not bathing for a few weeks, but even when you’d scratch, the itch would remain. You came to realize that this wasn’t something you could write off; this wasn’t something that hadn’t been caused by anything other than . . . you.
A few nights ago, you’d killed a man. You’d ripped out his throat with his teeth, and for a second too long, you’d enjoyed it. Now . . . now you wondered just how deep your guilt ran. Now you wondered if given the chance, would you do it again?
But you already knew the answer.
Your knees had begun to itch once again . . .
And you tried to ignore it. Honest, you did, but his screams; how easy it was to bite into his flesh; the bitter taste of metallic blood on your tongue which oddly tasted too similar to honey; the life in his eyes quickly dissipating as you towered over him like a predator to its prey; all of it kept playing in your head over and over again. You couldn’t escape it, not even when night came and you were forced to close your eyes.
His face was always there.
Sometimes you wondered if any of it had actually happened. Sometimes you wondered if none of this was real or if you even were. Sometimes you wondered if this man had been Death; if the tales your town preached had been real and this was your test.
Sometimes you wondered if you had failed.
And you knew you had.
At night, you could hear your mother whispering prayers under her breath, pleading to the heavens that she and her daughter would be spared. And every time, you knew which daughter she meant. Every time you knew she was praying to be spared from you. Every time you knew it was you who she feared the most in this world. And every time you wondered if one day he’d finally answer her prayers.
You couldn’t even blame her, because a few nights ago you’d done the one thing you’d never thought you’d have to do—kill a man. You knew you were some kind of fucked for that alone.
Then, last night, you began to wonder if this was how your father had felt. You began to wonder if this was why he was dead and not you. You wondered if he’d done it to save you, and to put himself out of his own misery.
And then you began to pray, too. You’d stopped believing in God years ago, but it was an old habit that you sometimes indulged in for some sick kind of comfort. And this time, in the dead of night, you’d shut your eyes and beg for your father’s ghost to return to you. You begged for just one more minute. One more minute and he could tell you how to deal with this; how to survive this, too, just as he had taught you how to endure everything else.
But no ghost ever came, only the perpetual darkness galloped in, consuming you whole.
Your father was gone, and it was all your fault. Guilt was your ghost, not him.
He would still be here if you hadn't—
"Mom thinks you've been possessed by the devil," your little sister's voice brought you out of your mind.
You blinked once. Then, you glanced down at her, taking note of her skeptical eyes and furrowed brows. It was almost as if she were inspecting your face, trying to decipher if you, her older sister, really were possessed as your mother had claimed.
It had been the first time your sister had spoken to you in the past week. The four of you had been walking through the woods, steering clear of the main roads ever since you’d come into contact with that man—the man whose blood you could still taste on your tongue.
She’d taken to walking hand-in-hand with your mother, just a few feet behind you and Felix as the two of you led the way into the unknown. You didn’t know where you were going. You never did. That was the thing about the end of the world—the only thing that mattered was surviving day by day. There was no end-point.
But today while you led the group through the woods, eyes searching for any rodents or small animals to capture for food, your head stuck in the past, your sister had taken the chance to walk into step with you. And those . . . those had been her choice of words.
Mom thinks you’ve been possessed by the devil.
And now with the world a ghost of itself, you thought perhaps maybe your mother could be right. You’d changed. The world had changed you. The old taste of blood on your tongue was evidence enough of that.
You’d killed a man. You’d ripped out a chunk of his jugular with your teeth and plunged the very knife in your belt into his flesh over and over again until you were sure he couldn’t do more harm.
Kill or be killed, sure, but . . .
. . . You’d still killed a man.
You’d actually taken a life.
(You weren’t expecting it to haunt you this much. But it had. You could still see his face, hear his voice, smell him, feel him. He was still very much alive in your mind, haunting you like a ghost.
It didn’t matter if he was more monster than man . . . you had still killed him. You had still taken a life without a second thought. His evils didn’t matter . . . guilt still seeped in.)
Mom thinks you’ve been possessed by the devil.
And maybe you had been.
That would’ve been easier to fathom.
But instead of voicing these thoughts aloud, you adjusted your backpack on your shoulders, touched a finger to the knife tucked into your belt to make sure it was still there and tightened your grip on your father’s shotgun in your hand before you finally spoke.
"Mom's off her meds," was all you offered. It was all you could say. And it hadn’t been what your sister was searching for.
Your sister stepped back, allowing you to walk alone. You knew you were losing her. You knew she barely trusted you now just as your mother stopped considering you a daughter.
And you couldn’t blame them.
The end of the world brought out who people truly were, and you were someone not worth saving.
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The sun had begun to set when you finally declared you’d be stopping for the night. It wasn’t a solid resting place, which meant another night of no sleep on your part, but that didn’t bother you much anymore. All that mattered was there were no signs of the dead, no low groans in the distance, no immediate danger, and the small creek running just a few meters from your camp would provide just enough for you to wet your face and clean any dried blood from your skin. That was what mattered—a temporary sanctuary.
Felix had taken to accompanying your little sister to the creek, while your mother gathered small twigs and broken branches to add to the fire you had just started. But your eyes never stopped watching your little sister, keeping an eye on her to ensure no danger would reach her or Felix while you were occupied.
That was your only concern. Your second was food. There had to be some crawfish lingering in the creek that you could fry up. That was your second concern right after the fire was steady enough to last until nightfall.
With a soft sigh, you forced yourself to tear your eyes from your sister’s smiling face. You tried to ignore how she smiled at Felix while he splashed water at her. You tried to ignore the soft laughter you could still hear as you stabbed at the fire with a branch. You tried to ignore the thought that she’d never look at you like that; never laugh like that with you; never trust you like that again.
You tried to ignore how you had become more of a loose end your family needed to tie off, than a daughter or an older sister.
But you couldn’t. The thought was always there. There it would remain, you were sure of it.
Clenching your jaw, you added the branch in your hand to the fire, watching it crackle under the embers. And for a moment, you wondered what it would feel like if you were to reach forward and let the flames lick your fingertips.
Had he felt like this, too?
Had your father had these thoughts before he died for you?
Did he ever wonder if—
“You’re just like him, you know?” your mother nearly whispered, tearing you from your mind as she set down the pile of branches she had collected.
You glanced at her once, then glared into the fire. “Is that supposed to hurt me?”
She shook her head only once. “It should scare you,” she clarified, standing to her feet so she could tower over you once again. “God’s plan—”
“God’s plan?” you immediately spat out with a humorous scoff, now standing to your feet as well. You were taller than her now, unlike when you were a kid; unlike when you used to do everything she told you; unlike when she still considered you her daughter. “What does God’s plan have to do with my father?”
A muscle in her jaw twitched. “He has protected us this far. He couldn’t save your father. I’m worried if you continue down this path, he won’t be able to save you either,” she muttered back as she clutched the cross around her neck as if she thought it would ward you off like you had become one of the evils she’d warn you about when you were just a girl.
But you were no longer small; you were no longer moldable by her hand, and now, you were only made of anger. “You think God’s the reason we’re alive?” you questioned her, eyes narrowing into slits.
Your mother remained silent but clutched her cross harder. And you knew what that meant.
Your eyes flicked from her hand to her face. Then, you took a step forward, chin jutted out. “Is it God who kills so we can eat? Is it God who got us here, to this point? Is it God who holds dad’s gun?” you bit out as you touched a hand to your chest. “God doesn’t have a fucking plan.” You drilled a finger into your chest, your angry eyes never leaving hers. “I do. And God couldn’t save dad because it was supposed to be—”
But your words halted in your throat. You couldn’t admit it to her. You couldn’t tell her you were the reason behind your father’s death. It didn’t matter if she already knew. You just . . . you just couldn’t admit it to her face.
“God doesn't fucking exist,” you muttered out instead, turning away from her. “And if he did, he’s sure as hell dead now.”
“Your father filled your head with lies.”
You turned back to her, eyes glaring into hers. “Bullshit,” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “He was the only one who ever told me the truth.”
Ignoring your words, she took a step away from you, her hand remaining on the cross around her neck. "Your father . . . I knew he was deeply flawed when I married him, but I just figured he’d change. I figured he’d see the way, instead he only got worse, but he knew when to control it. He knew right from wrong,” she went on, her voice steady, but her eyes had begun to water. And you knew tears would come, and when they did, you’d leave to kill the crawfish. "But, you, honey . . . I don't know where we went wrong with you. It's like you came out of the womb defective. You got all the bad traits of your father and nothing else. I look at you and I see this angry little girl. And, you know, sometimes I ask myself how in the world we managed to raise a daughter who is even more deeply flawed than her bastard father, but I never seem to know the answer."
There were the tears now.
But along with it came a knife in your chest that kept twisting and twisting the more she spoke.
Twist the knife, and she did.
"There's something wrong with you,” she whispered again after a moment’s silence, the tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “You frighten me.”
Twist the knife, and you refused to pull it out.
This was what you deserved.
Still, you didn’t cry, not for yourself. Never for yourself. Instead, you continued to stare at her with no emotion in your eyes as you muttered, “Talking ill of the dead is a sin, remember?” And then you began to turn.
But your mother’s hand landed firmly around your arm. “Don’t you turn your back on me, girl,” she warned, her words sharper than the knife she’d twisted into your chest.
Swallowing hard, you sucked on your teeth. “What else do you want me to say?” you questioned, but didn’t bother to turn and face her. “I have nothing else to give you, mom.”
She released your arm as if you’d burned her and hissed, “Don’t call me that.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion for a mere second before you realized what she meant; before you realized what you’d said; what you’d done. It was an honest mistake, as well. You hadn’t called her that in so long, and yet it still came out. You hadn’t meant to say it, but it still came out as if you were still small and thought the whole world was in her arms.
“Then what do you want me to call you?” you asked, your voice quieter now as you took a step back. “If not mom, then what should your daughter call you? Hmm? Or is the answer nothing? Is that what we are to each other now? Will that make God come down from the heavens and give us salvation? . . . If you abandon me?”
Your mother remained silent.
And you knew her answer.
Sucking on your teeth, you nodded in acceptance. “What?” you spoke in a whisper as you took another step back. “Am I not being loud enough for him?” You outstretched your hands at your sides, gesturing to the heavens. “Should I scream it? Will he finally fucking answer then?”
“Stupid girl—” your mother quickly scolded, grabbing you firmly by the arm— “don’t you dare put this family in danger,”
But you only tilted your head in question. “Does that include me?”
Her eyes fluttered, taken back. “What?”
“This family,” you reiterated. “Am I a part of this family?”
Once again, she remained silent.
But you knew the truth.
“God’s plan as long as I’m out of the picture, right?” you muttered under your breath, swallowing hard once again. “At least we finally agree.”
Then, you were tearing your arm out of her grasp, but you didn’t move, you didn’t even look away from her. Instead, you kept still. You kept your eyes locked with hers as if breaking that eye contact would sever the final string holding the two of you together. She didn’t speak either, and she refused to move. She wouldn’t move first. You knew that. She’d always been that way. So had you . . .
And when you were sure the world had begun to rot around you, you could have sworn her bottom lip quivered as if she were on the verge of saying something . . . anything. Only, when her lips parted a mere sliver, a shrill scream sounded from behind, and the perpetual darkness of your world crept back in through your peripheral vision.
Beat. Your heart shot to your throat.
It happened too quickly for you to think.
Beat. Beat.
You heard the scream and you knew your sister was in trouble.
Beat.
Without a second thought, you dropped everything and ran toward the scream; toward the creek; toward your sister. It wasn’t far, but it was far enough for you to catch sight of two of the dead. One Felix fought off, while trying to grab his knife from his belt. The other had found its way to your sister, pinning her to the forest floor as she thrashed and screamed, her weak limbs desperately trying to keep the thing from sinking its teeth into her flesh.
And you knew what to do.
For a brief second longer, there was screaming. Then the squelch of a knife being plunged through a skull. Then nothing.
The world faded away. No noise. No people. No nothing.
One. Two. Three seconds, then the world started to return.
Breathing heavily, you watched carefully as your mother rushed past you, tearing the dead corpse off your sister and holding her closer . . . closer than she’d ever held you. Your nose twitched for a mere second as your gaze shifted from your mother and sister staring at you in shock ((?) no, maybe it was horror) to the stilled corpse, and finally to the bloodied knife gripped tightly in your hand.
You’d killed that thing, yes. But you hadn’t even thought about it. You hadn’t stopped to think that this thing was once a person. You hadn’t even seen it as such, unlike your mother; unlike what the town had tried to drill into your head during Pestilence’s reign. And . . . you could see that realization in your mother’s eyes.
. . . You were getting worse.
Your legs had begun to weaken at the thought, but you quickly stabled yourself, afraid they’d see it as another sign to put you down like the violent dog you knew they saw you to be. Instead, you tore your gaze from the knife in your hand and met your mother’s eyes once again (but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet your sister’s tearful stare). “Tell me, mo—” you quickly stopped the word from tumbling from your tongue, then went on— “is this still what God’s plan looks like to you?”
But your mother didn’t reply, and you didn’t wait for her to. You could barely stand to hold her gaze for a second longer. Instead, you wiped the blood from your knife on your pants, shoved it back into your belt, and turned, walking back to the fire you had begun to make minutes before.
And as you walked, you took note of the silence which followed you. You took note of how even Felix hesitated slightly before he followed after you. You took note of how your mother and sister sat near that creek for a few minutes longer and didn’t bother to wander after you as if you were no longer their blood.
The final string tying your family together had begun to wear thinner. You wondered when it would finally snap. You wondered how long it would take for a violent dog to succumb to its instincts; how long it would take you to become the lost cause you knew you were destined to be.
Would they make the decision to put you down then?
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Four days. Two sleepless nights. And one squirrel shared between the four of you. You felt a fever coming on a couple days ago. You saw the infected cuts from the fight with that man. You knew your body was weakening day by day.
If you didn’t stop soon, you’d sure become one of the dead.
But you tried your best to ignore it. You had to.
Your mother; however, remained hopeful (of course). You could hear her chattering on to your sister throughout the day while you watched the world.
According to her, no one really knew why the Horsemen came to earth. She claimed the world needed saving from certain people (what you were sure she was leaving out was the fact that she was convinced you were one of these people). So, she went on and on and on, and you quietly listened, too, because you were still a girl who used to kneel in church, after all; because you could still feel the bruises on your knees; because you could still see the scars left behind from the scabs.
So, you listened, but you did not believe.
The world was fucked and needed cleansing. People were inherently bad and God saw no other way for salvation (apparently) than to send his four loyal Horsemen to destroy Earth and its people. . . . Well . . . supposedly. You knew the truth; however. There were no Horsemen. There was just death. Something had gone wrong and no one really knew what, so they blamed it on some higher power.
Whatever.
(Supposedly) Pestilence had been a shadow. War had wanted an audience. The world fell before you could get a proper grasp on Famine. And now Death was here. He’d been walking the earth for two years now, and still no one knew why.
Just like the town, your mother had her theories. And while she believed this God was still on your side, still searching for the good in humanity, you thought him fucked up. The human race was just his playthings.
He’d made sure there was nothing left.
Hell, you knew there wasn’t even a god. The world was just fucked. The end.
Point blank: it didn’t matter. Nothing did anymore.
Survival was all that mattered.
Everything else was fucked.
And as you continued to lead the way into nothingness, listening to your mother’s ramblings about the Bible, all you could do was ignore how your knees had begun to itch once again, while you focused on one thought: survive, survive, survive. But . . . not for yourself . . . for them.
Survive long enough for them.
For your father.
For your sister.
For your mother.
For Felix.
For them.
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By sundown, Felix managed to find an abandoned warehouse for the night. It wasn’t much, but it was better than sleeping out in the wild. Perhaps all of you could get some shuteye that night. Sure, luckily it was around Fall or maybe just before where it was still warm, but sleeping on logs wasn’t ideal. (Not that you could be picky. Not that you were.)
But, just your luck, sleep never found you.
Beside you, Felix softly snored, laying on his back with his arms crossed over his chest and his head resting in your lap. Your hand found its way to his dark waves, gently scratching his scalp as he slept. It brought you peace where you normally had none.
Sometimes you wondered when Felix would finally realize the monster you’d become. You wondered what it would take. How many more people would you kill for them in order for him to look at you as if you were a stranger?
You didn’t want to see that day come.
It’d already come for your mother the day your father died. Then for your sister when you’d butchered that man. You couldn’t bear living through Felix’s realization.
With a sigh, you glanced over your shoulder, eyes landing on your mother’s sleeping figure as your little sister curled up into her side, miles away in her dreams. You hoped it was better there; that her dreams were still pure and innocent despite the world.
You tore your eyes from them a second later, instead opting to glance out the large opening in the warehouse where a window used to be. The world was so bleak now. Even the sight of the empty lands before your eyes stirred nothing within you. It was just so . . . distant.
Nothing was left.
Truly.
Reluctantly, you shut your eyes, trying your hardest to drift off into sleep, but the pounding in your head and the scratch in your throat kept you up. You were getting worse. You squeezed your eyes tighter, hoping this fever would subside soon. The world was darker now, the nothingness intensifying. You weren’t even sure if you could sleep anymore. Had you been? You couldn’t remember.
But just when you were sure sleep wouldn’t greet you that night, forcing you to keep watch, you could’ve sworn you heard an inhuman howl echo throughout the darkness beyond.
Your eyes snapped open, heart hammering.
No.
It couldn’t be.
Another howl echoed throughout the air. But this was no howl from a wolf or even a beast.
You’d heard stories from survivors in the towns you’d passed through in the two years Death had taken his reign over your lands. You’d heard the stories of Death and his steed. His steed, pale in color similar to a corpse, was rumored to have this cry.
The cry was no ordinary cry. Death’s steed cried similar to a wolf or rather a beast, hungry for blood. It was a war cry—a warning sign.
Of course, Death was not real and there was no horse with their cry. No, you knew what this was. You’d heard these cries in smaller amounts. You’d heard these cries as you plunged your knife into each undead’s brain, killing the parasite living within. And a howl like this only meant one thing—a hoard.
You swallowed hard.
Death was near.
You’d thought the undead didn’t hoard unless . . .
The man.
Your eyes widened.
The night the man had attacked your group, you had managed to hotwire a car. That had been your plan. You were going to use that car to get your group farther and safer. But because of that man . . . because of what you’d done to him, you’d accidentally popped one of the tires in the process, forcing your group to stay the night in those woods when you should’ve been on the road.
And his screams . . .
You’d slowed down and made yourself known, and now they were following the noise.
And . . . it was all your fault.
You exhaled a shaky breath.
Death was coming.
Immediately, you swung into action, quietly waking Felix up. His eyes questioned yours before he, too, heard the war cry.
Death was coming. Felix knew this now, too.
The two of you silently awoke your mother and sister, Felix informing them of the matter they had on your hands, while you gathered your father’s shotgun, crouching near the window for a better look. If they were near . . . how near?
You swallowed hard.
Maybe you could still run. You could still get everyone out if you ran. It could work—
But then you saw it.
In the distance, you caught sight of the undead as they cried, following each other.
You checked the gun’s chamber, removing and reloading the cartridges just to make sure they were in place in case you were forced to fire. Your grip tightened and loosened, and you could hear Felix whispering your name, but your eyes were transfixed on the hoard up ahead.
Death was here. So close. Too close.
They couldn’t see you now, couldn’t hear you, but . . . if you ran, they’d catch sight of you. They’d kill your family. They’d kill Felix. They’d kill you all.
There was no way you could outrun the hoard. Not when they were this close; not when they could smell you; hear your every breath.
Fuck.
You wanted to scream.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Your father had trusted you. They all had. And now you were going to let another person down all because you’d been stupid one night. You’d fucked all of you.
“Snap out of it,” Felix whispered, his hand on your shoulder. “Ideas?”
You could only shake your head.
Felix swore, running his hands through his hair. "There's no way," he nearly gasped at his words. "Fuck."
You swore you felt your heart drop as you slumped against the wall. They were going to die. Because of you.
There was no way out; no way any of you would make it past the hoard without them noticing. The moment they saw any of you, they’d follow you until they could get their teeth into your flesh. And while you had no care for your own life, you still had care for theirs—the people you'd sworn to protect.
Your father had died for all of you. He knew it wasn't safe, and he still went out. He'd traded his life for yours. He'd made you swear to protect your mother and your little sister, and along the way, you'd sworn to not only keep them safe but to keep Felix from harm. You'd sworn that, and you were not one to fall back on your word.
There was no way out together. But . . . there was one way out.
You knew what that meant.
This was what your father would've wanted. This was what he would've done; what he had done.
It was always going to turn out this way. You'd known that.
And in that moment, you accepted that. After all, you'd always been told you were your father's daughter.
This was how you made things right.
You nodded at your thoughts.
Then, you felt your eyes burn, your brows scrunching in confusion. Wetness slipped down your cheek and you briefly touched a finger to the tear, finding you were crying. You hadn’t cried in so long.
Angrily, you wiped the tears away. You didn’t get to cry.
This had been your fault in the first place. This was how you made it right. You didn’t get to cry. You didn’t.
So you sent one last glare at the hoard up ahead, then turned to Felix. Fuck. He would be the one in charge now. You trusted him, yes, but you knew how heavy that burden was. That was what you would regret the most—putting Felix through this agony, too.
Still: "Little bird," you whispered.
Fearful tears were already in his eyes. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."
"Can't help it. I taught you how to fly," you hummed, voice soft and unlike you.
You both knew what you meant. You'd taught Felix how to fire a gun, taught him how to gut a fish, you taught him how to survive—you taught him how to fly. But he didn't need any more teachings. Like a baby bird, he'd flown from the nest ages ago. He could fly without you. The thought brought a melancholic smile to your chapped lips as you fought back the burning in your eyes when they met his worried gaze once again.
"Makes me feel important." You touched a hand to his cheek. He felt soft under your calloused skin. "But . . . you don't need me anymore."
Felix exhaled with a strained choke, his eyes widening in realization. "No," he rushed out, shaking his head as his soft brown eyes searched yours. "No." His hand enclosed around the one you'd touched to his cheek. "Don't. Don't."
You knew what he meant. Don't be the hero.
But that wasn't his decision to make. You had debts to pay; people to protect.
Living had never been something you wanted in a world like this. Sometimes you felt like a ghost; when the world was quiet and your heart beat a little slower—you felt like one of the many corpses you'd passed by on the daily.
Years ago, you promised your father you'd take over his job and protect. You'd never wanted to live, but you had forced yourself. Back then, you made a promise to yourself—you had to stay alive, not for yourself, but for them; you had to stay alive for the one you had lost. And you'd upheld that promise, but now . . . in order to save them, you had to break it.
You knew this.
Felix did, too.
He rested his forehead against yours. "Please. Don't. It's supposed to be you and me."
Your eyes squeezed shut. "I'm the reason he's dead."
The two of you knew what you meant. This was how you repaid him; how you repaid your father.
"Then let me do it," Felix muttered, hand dropping from yours to grasp the shotgun in your other hand.
You were quick to rip it from his hold. "It was always going to turn out this way," was all you said, and he knew what you meant.
The sound of the cries coming closer made you spring back from him. Your head swiveled, taking in your surroundings as your hands found their rightful place on the shotgun. Your eyes briefly found your little sister's—her round eyes wide with fright, only furthering your decision. You knew doing this for them, for her.
"Fine," you heard Felix hiss in a quiet whisper. "But I'm coming with you."
Your head snapped to him. "Like hell you are."
"You don't get to die."
"Neither do you."
"Then I guess we have a predicament."
Your eyes softened. "Lix."
His brows pinched together. "You don't get to die."
And you almost felt yourself smile. "Little birds are meant to fly," you hummed. Little birds are meant to fly; they aren't meant to die.
He shook his head.
You swallowed hard.
The cries grew closer, and your heart raced. You were out of time. This was your last goodbye.
You gripped his hand. "Protect them."
He latched onto your shoulders. “No. No. I’m not ready. Don’t make me say goodbye to you.”
Against your will, your bottom lip trembled. “It’s not.”
But it was. You both knew that.
Felix could only shake his head. “Please.”
“See you later, little bird,” you hummed, weakly, kissing his forehead before you tore yourself from him. And he reached for you, begging you to stay.
But . . . no amount of pleas could change your mind. You were already moving before Felix could stop you. You didn’t have the heart to glance back at your sister or your mother. You never wanted to live in a world like this, but if you looked back, you feared you might’ve found salvation in their eyes. You couldn’t put them through that. You’d put them through enough.
You worked quickly. You had to. For them.
The quiet cries of the hoard approached, moving slowly. You kept your eyes on their figures, stealthily stepping down the creaky stairs to the bottom floor. From there, you moved to the woods surrounding the area. You quickly crouched down in the dark forest, clutching the shotgun even tighter. This was your father’s, now it was yours, and you were going to use it to save your family.
You weren’t naive enough to think that you could actually kill all of them. But that didn’t matter. You were solely supposed to be a distraction. You would fire that damned shotgun at those things over and over again, not caring if it even did any damage. You just needed to keep their attention long enough to get them to follow you in the opposite direction. That would allow your family to escape. That was all you intended to do.
You knew there was no surviving this. And you were fine with that.
Death didn’t scare you. Not yours, anyway.
So you hunkered down, hands clutched on the shotgun as you waited for the hoard to get near enough to strike.
You heard them before you saw them. The cries echoed throughout the dark night, making your heart pound faster. It became louder and louder, so loud you felt yourself start to tense, and then the first came into view.
It came to a gentle halt, almost as if it had been expecting you. But that couldn’t be. It hadn’t seen you. You were still in the clear.
Still, you watched, remembering the lessons on hunting that your father had taught you. This was how you hunted—quiet, hidden, and alert.
The creature tilted its head back, eyes closed as the moonlight cascaded across its pale face. Your brows scrunched in confusion as you watched it, tilting your head to the side. It was almost as if it were basking in the moonlight, soaking up the feeling of the satellite shining down on it. And then you realized what it was doing: sniffing you out.
Behind it, the world was bleak as the rest of those damned creatures sauntered forward. The trees seemed to sag, the grass stale, and it was quiet, so very quiet. Every step they took, decay followed.
And then they began to move . . . toward the warehouse where your family still resided.
Your jaw ticked as you raised the shotgun. Your father’s instructions rang through your ears and you lined up the barrel, aiming at one of the creature’s chests as it was perhaps the only part of it you had direct access to. You were certain the impact wouldn’t kill it, you were almost certain it wouldn’t even hurt it, but . . . it would distract it, and that was all you needed.
Last week, you killed a man. You ripped out his jugular with your teeth. You’d slaughtered him. So this, killing this entity shouldn’t have made your stomach churn, but it did.
Your world was gone. Death remained. And it was all his doing.
Still . . . still, your finger hesitated on the trigger.
You would die tonight . . . by its hand, no doubt. And perhaps that scared you. Perhaps a part of you truly didn’t want to die. But you dumbed down this hesitation to just pure fear.
Fear that those things would find your family after disposing of your body; fear they’d kill them; fear all of this would be for nothing.
You swallowed hard and adjusted your grip on the gun. You had to try. Your life for theirs. It was that or you all died tonight, and you wouldn’t have that, not after all you had done; all you had put them through.
All you had to do was pull the trigger. And yet . . . you still hesitated.
Fuck. You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw as your heart hammered in your chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
And as your eyes remained closed, you heard their voices then.
You're not too far gone.
Mom thinks you’ve been possessed by the devil.
There’s something wrong with you. You frighten me.
You have to grow up. No more kid stuff.
Your breath hitched. You have to grow up. And you had. Too quickly you now realized. It was always going to end up this way.
This was the only way to save them. The only way.
Your eyes snapped open, catching sight of the creatures still sniffing the air like they could just smell your terror. You sucked in a breath, then pulled the trigger. Exhale.
The ringing in your ears was almost immediate and the explosive sound echoed throughout the silent night. You barely even noticed the shotgun’s kickback, too focused on the creatures before you, watching with wide eyes as the pellets hit one of the things, knocking it entirely to the ground.
The others cried out, their noses no longer needing to be depended on as their eyes searched for the origin of the noise. And then you caught the eye of one, and you knew it was the end.
You faltered at the sight, stumbling backward as you tripped on a root, causing your body to hit the ground. A low groan escaped you before you could stop yourself.
Fuck.
Had that been too loud?
Heart pounding in your chest, you slowly glanced up, eyes landing on the creatures. More eyes stared back at you, hungry with . . . something as a few had begun to make their way toward you.
You swallowed hard.
Death itself had seen you.
Acting fast, you hastily grabbed the shotgun. You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up, but you needed to buy your family more time. You needed to end this.
And end it you would.
You clutched the shotgun tightly in your hand and sat up, groaning slightly when you felt a sharp pain in your ankle. But still, you went on.
Remembering your father’s teachings, you knew what a machine was good for at the end of its reign: making a lot of fucking noise.
And so with a heavy heart and angry tears pricking your eyes . . . you belted out a loud yell.
There was no hiding now. They had all heard you. And that was all that mattered to them.
“Come on, you fuckers!” you took it a step further as you yelled at them, clanking the butt of your gun on a tree to make as much noise as you could. And then, when you heard their cries echo with yours; when you saw one turn to two turn to ten following you into the woods, you knew it was time.
With a fleeting look at the warehouse where your family still resided, you fought back the urge to crawl into yourself and let that anger you’d been holding inside yourself for years now finally just . . . snap. You didn’t know if you fired the shotgun at one of the creature’s heads first or ran off further into the woods, still screaming. You didn’t know the present from the past, but you did know you couldn’t look back.
And so, you let yourself be loud, screaming for yourself, for the people you’d lost, for the people you’d never see again, for your father. You yelled and yelled, racing through the woods as they all quickly followed after you, releasing cries of their own.
The world fell behind you in those moments, time moving in slow motion as you weaved through the dark woods, your feet bounding off the ground as if you were in zero gravity. Sound evaded your senses, only the muffled noises of your rapid breathing could be heard echoing in your ears.
But you just kept running, letting the world escape you. Even when you’d trip over hidden roots, your knees buckling as you fell to the ground, surely bruising and cutting up your skin, you persisted each time. Like your father’s daughter, you pulled yourself to your feet each time, sparing a glance over your shoulder only to be met with the sight of the hoard getting nearer and nearer. And every time, you’d force yourself to swallow the bile crawling up your throat before you cocked your shotgun and fired into the hoard, taking off screaming for them to follow after you.
This was the end, and you planned to gather as much of them away from the warehouse and closer to you. You knew it would hurt, but you didn’t care. Their teeth ripping into your flesh would never be a match for the sins you’d committed in this lifetime. That was why you met every dead that got in your path with a lethal hit from the butt of your shotgun and a silent prayer that your damned soul could be traded for the safety of your family.
You were sure you would have continued running had your foot not slammed into a divot in the ground, twisting your ankle with such force that you hit the ground instantly, crying out in pain. And this time when you tried to stand to your feet, you realized the pain was too much to stand.
It hit you then.
Beat.
This really was the end.
You couldn’t run.
Beat.
The hoard was gaining on you.
This was the end.
Beat.
Swallowing hard, you clenched your jaw, shutting your eyes as you realized what you needed to do. Clutching your father’s shotgun close to your chest, so close it nearly touched your heart, your lips parted, and a scream bubbled up your throat, ripping through your vocal cords as it echoed throughout the dead of night.
But before you could inhale and breathe out another war cry of your own to match theirs, a hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your screams. Another hand was gripping your arm the next second, pulling you off the ground and shoving your back against the nearest tree.
Your eyes shot open, dropping your shotgun as your hands instinctively clasped around the wrist of the hand covering your mouth. Deep dark eyes stared back at you, a sense of urgency in them as you realized what was going on.
It happened so fast, too fast for you to process. But you quickly realized the eyes belonged to a man not much older than you. Dark eyes. Full lips. Sculpted nose. It was your first time seeing a man other than Felix . . . other than the one you’d gutted . . . in a long time.
What was he doing?
But you couldn’t ponder long as his eyes twisted to the scene behind you, and you could’ve sworn you felt his heart beat faster against your lips where his hand still lay. And at that sight, he kicked into action.
“You listen to me. We have a few seconds before those fuckers are at our throats,” he spoke in a hushed tone, his voice deep and controlled, but you could sense the fear on him. It was different from yours. “When I tell you, you run as fast as you fucking can in that direction and you don’t stop. You follow me and you don’t get lost or you’re dead.” His hand fell from your mouth as he began hastily digging through the pack over his shoulder. “Got it?”
You skipped a beat, not answering.
His eyes were on you instantly, expectantly.
But you only blinked.
You didn’t want to be saved.
No, he couldn’t do this. It was your time. This was your punishment. He couldn’t—
Your thoughts were cut short as he pulled something out of his pack, and you quickly realized a grenade now sat in his hand. Your eyes widened. He was going to—
“Run,” he bit out, an order.
And it all happened so fast.
You stayed put.
He turned from you, quickly pulling the pin and chucking the grenade as fast and hard as he could from your location. You watched the weapon soar, your heartbeat stilling in your throat as the seconds of anticipation crept upon you.
Beat.
Beat.
Be—
A loud explosion sounded in the distance, the ground shaking beneath your feet as ringing in your ears commenced. Only then did you realize your feet had been moving on their own, carrying you farther and farther away from the scene as you caught a glimpse of the hoard following after the explosion. But you wouldn’t do this. You had accepted your death. You wouldn’t—
Your feet weren’t moving of your own volition. The world had fallen away from you, you realized, but as you turned your head away from the hoard you realized it was the man who was dragging you away from the scene. You realized in your daze, that he must have locked his grip onto your arm and took off running, dragging you along with him despite your injured ankle and dormant mind.
And for some reason, despite the urge to fall to the ground and let yourself fade away, you allowed him to drag you further and further into the woods. You didn’t realize just how much land you had covered until the sound of the hoard was so far, that he’d begun to slow down ever so slightly. You didn’t realize until the woods turned into sparse grassland, until the sight of what appeared to be a latched roof to an underground bunker of some sort. You’d heard of shelters like these, but you’d never seen one. You always just assumed the military had covered it all up, leaving people to die while they sat safely under the barren earth.
Your mind raced with a million thoughts, but you could barely see straight let alone think right as you allowed this man to drag you to the entrance. Hell, you allowed him to shove you inside, as you crawled down the ladder in the tunnel. It was a subconscious action, honest. Otherwise, you would’ve begged him to leave you outside to die. But there was no breath for begging as he followed in after you, shutting the hatch and twisting it closed to ensure it was tightly locked.
And when your feet finally met the metal flooring of the inside, you stepped back in shock.
As you had predicted, this was a government bunker. A rather large one at that. You swallowed hard. Fuck.
And when you turned around, your eyes searching the area, you were met with the scene of a group of survivors staring back at you in confusion. People. And they were alive. You hadn’t seen so many people since before Famine.
What the fuck?
But before you could react, something hard cracked over the back of your head, throbbing pain followed. The darkness seeped in instantly, your mind losing control of your body as you smacked the ground, eyes fluttering as you faded in and out of consciousness.
There it was, you realized.
Your punishment.
You were going to die.
And you couldn’t help but allow yourself one last selfish look because maybe there was still a small part of you that wanted to be alive. But that part could only live if things were normal again, if things were the way they had been before the world died. Still, that part of you took over and you watched silently, your vision fading in and out as you caught a glimpse of those dark eyes that had saved you, just moments before the world faded into darkness.
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The next time your eyes fluttered open, a metal ceiling stared back at you.
There was a throbbing in your head, searing through your thoughts, and your shotgun was nowhere to be found. You released a soft groan, trying to shift in your spot, but you were met with resistance. You tugged and tugged, but your body didn’t budge.
In confusion, you glanced around, finding yourself on a medical bed, your hands tied together with rope, attaching you to the bed. This didn’t make sense. You hadn’t seen a bed in months maybe a year now. This didn’t make sense. Where were you? How did you—
And then . . . then the memories all faded in.
The warehouse. The man. The shots. The hoard.
This was Death’s doing.
The town had warned you of this and you’d denied it. You still didn’t believe. You couldn’t. God was dead and the Horsemen were just a figment of fearmongering. But for a second, you wanted to believe. For that second you were strapped to that bed, you wanted to believe that this was your purgatory and Death was punishing you. That would be easier: if you believed.
Death was an entity; one you had no idea about. There was no knowing what exactly he could and couldn’t do. And this . . . being bound to a medical bed with not even a soul to be heard felt utterly ordinary if he did exist, considering what you did know about this dark being.
But . . . why were you still alive?
Slowly, you lifted your head, groaning at the pain that followed as you assessed the rest of your body. You were alive. Cuts and bruises everywhere, but you could still inhale, exhale, breathe. You could still hear the beat of your heart if you closed your eyes and focused. You were alive.
You were alive.
Your jaw twitched. “I’m alive,” you whispered to yourself, a bitter taste left on your tongue. “I”m . . . alive.”
And for a second, you truly allowed yourself to believe Death existed. You allowed yourself that he had done this to you; that the two years he’d reigned all led up to this very moment. You allowed yourself to believe that he had kept you alive because suffering was for the living.
Was this his way of being kind? Sparing you?
Swallowing hard, you glared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. If you prayed, would he give in? Would he end this suffering? Would he finally give you your punishment?
Your mind wasn’t allowed much longer to ponder as the sound of a door opening brought you out of your repenting. Wearily, you watched with stern eyes as a man stepped in, carrying a bowl in one hand and a washcloth in the other. You watched as he let himself in, still not looking up while he closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh and finally . . . glanced up, meeting your gaze.
Him.
The man.
Slowly, your face softened as confusion consumed you. Him. He had done this to you. He had been the one to lead you here. (He’d also been the one to save you . . . ) He had knocked you out cold. And now . . . now here he was.
You clenched your jaw hard.
The man just stared a minute longer at you, his gaze stern, cold, calculating. Then, he was walking toward you, resting the bowl on the bedside table beside your head before he reached forward and tapped a finger to your chin, tilting your head so he could analyze the wounds on your face.
And you let him, analyzing his actions, preparing for his next.
“You’re awake,” was all he simply said as he dropped your chin and diverted his attention to the bowl on the bedside table. “Sorry about the blow and the rope . . . it’s . . . protocol.”
But you remained silent, watching.
"Your stunt back there . . . could’ve cost us this entire place," he muttered, his voice calm and controlled but you knew he was seething inside. He remained quiet as he dipped the washcloth into the bowl of what seemed to be warm water before he turned to you once again, his eyes lethal. "Screaming only attracts more of them, don’t you know? If you wanted to die, you should’ve just stayed put.”
You swallowed thickly.
There was something terrifying about a quiet rage.
"There's always someone like you," he continued, his eyes racking up and down your body in a menacing glare before the warm touch of a washcloth to your cheek startled a quiet gasp out of your lips. "Someone who ends up surviving longer than they should have." A scoff left him. "Someone who doesn’t care who dies for them as long as they get out unscathed. Did you even think there might be other survivors around before you took off attracting all of those things? If there were children? Families? People who survive together and want to stay alive without running into someone like you?”
And you hadn’t.
You never thought yourself to be stupid or any of the sort. You hadn’t been thinking. There hadn’t been enough time. You just needed to do something so your family could make it out alive. You hadn’t thought that there could be others. You hadn’t thought that saving your family could damn another.
Had your mother been right about you?
Were you really just a stupid girl? A stupid girl playing hero?
The man pulled a chair from the corner of the room, and placed it beside your bed, sitting on it as he dragged the washcloth down your arms now. His touch was somehow gentle despite his glare. Perhaps it was because no one had touched you so gently in so long. Perhaps it was because you had given up, but you let him clean the wounds on your body as you rested your head back onto the pillow, your muscles relaxing ever-so-slightly.
"No?" he questioned, reiterating his accusation. “In my experience, people like you don’t find themselves in trouble like that unless they’re planning something.”
You remained expressionless as you watched him, taking in his words. He thought you’d lured the dead here, and for what? Looting? Or just plain insanity?
Had you really become that corrupt even a stranger could sense it on you?
Slowly, you blinked, wondering if your father had ever felt this way before his death. And as you wondered, the man beside you continued cleaning your wounds, but this time, remained silent. Maybe he realized you wouldn’t answer. Or maybe he already knew the truth about you and your damned soul.
And as the minutes of silence ticked on, you did your own inspection.
Now, under the light, the man sat beside you, his eyes fixed on meticulously cleaning each wound with care despite his lethal words. It had been so long since you’d seen another man like this; a man that had to be around your age; a man so young yet so riddled with age. His dark hair was slightly curly, more tangled and messy than anything as if he hadn’t slept in days. The dark circles under his equally dark eyes were enough to show his evident sleep deprivation. And yet, he seemed almost too alert: his full lips were hidden as his teeth worried his bottom lip while he continued to clean the blood from your skin.
(You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t beautiful; so beautiful it almost made you believe in God once more.)
And for a second, you let yourself wonder what else your mother had been right about. You let yourself believe once again. You let yourself be a girl who could finally kneel in church without bruises being left behind. For a moment, you let yourself believe that she and the town had been right; that this whole thing was God’s plan; that the Horsemen had come; that they could be saved, but you would be condemned.
Then . . . you began to wonder if you had already been. Maybe it was the blow to the head you’d taken or the fever raging through your body or maybe it was the truth, but you began to believe that perhaps this was your purgatory; perhaps you had died in that hoard and you’d been sent here; perhaps the beautiful man beside you was Death himself.
Was this it then? Were you always meant to see him at the end?
Oddly enough, he reminded you of this small dog your sister had found near one of the abandoned houses your family had stayed in over the years. This was during Famine’s rule—when food became sparse, when lands became stale and yellowed; when the dead had only just begun to migrate south. This tiny dog found your younger sister then, and she’d brought it home, leaving you no choice but to care for the little thing.
Your sister had named her Berry. (A few months later you had to put her down; it was what we had to do to survive, you’d told your sister back then. You were sure it was then she first started to hate you.)
And as you stared at Death, taking note of how his eyes were a particular shade of brown, you realized they were the same shade that the silly dog had.
You tilted your head. Death somehow had eyes that were kind; eyes that were warm; eyes that reminded you of Felix. Was that how they planned to transfix you? Was Death meant to be this beautiful; this familiar so you’d go willingly? Had God forgotten you’d already condemned yourself? Had he forgotten you didn’t need to be tricked? Had he forgotten where your prayers resided?
Only a moment later, when you felt his hands running over your torso, did you snap out of your exhaust-ridden daze. You realized quickly he was cleaning the last of your wounds which resided on your ribs. And when he was done, he tossed the washcloth into the bowl without another care before he slowly leaned back, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched you with scrutinizing eyes.
Death narrowed his gaze, but it wasn’t menacing this time. Rather, he seemed almost perplexed. "Why aren’t you fighting?" he questioned. "You didn’t stop to run before. Why calm your fire now?"
Why aren’t you fighting?
The thing was: it was over. Your fight was over.
Sure, you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Death was painfully beautiful . . . but it went beyond that.
It was surely daylight by now.
Daylight had come, hours had passed, and Death had you in his hold.
By now, Felix had probably taken your mother and sister onto the road again. They’d escaped, and they were miles and miles away from you and Death. They were safe.
So . . . where was your fight?
You didn’t have one anymore. This was the end. Death would either kill you or make you suffer again and again and again, and your family would live. You’d once told yourself that you never wanted to live in a world like this, but you’d kept yourself alive to protect your family. Only now . . . you didn’t need to fight because there wasn’t anyone left for you to protect.
Your fight was over. Maybe you could rest now. Maybe he’d let you.
Death seemed to catch onto the shift in your demeanor as he narrowed his eyes. "Do you not speak?"
For a moment, you considered not replying. Until: "There's no point," you heard yourself say, voice dry and hoarse.
The look on Death’s face was unreadable as his eyes shifted across your face, his mouth slightly parted. "You smell of death," he muttered, gaze still searching your being.
And you almost laughed.
Because this was your end, and Death himself just told you that you smelled like shit or well . . . like him, you supposed . . . apparently.
It all felt a little unreal.
Death must not have liked your silence as he shot you one last glance before he pulled away and walked toward a table on the other side of the room. As he walked, you caught sight of the blood painting his body, his skin, him.
You swallowed hard. You’d brought that hoard to him. He’d fought his way out. You’d caused those wounds, and now he was more than likely going to do worse to you. He’d probably take that scythe you were told he carried and cut your head clean off.
But unlike what you thought, Death sifted through the miscellaneous items on the table before pausing and grabbing a small knife. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched him approach you, knife in hand.
There it was.
This was the end you were promised.
Was he going to slit your throat and leave you to bleed out? Or cut you open so you could see just how dark your heart had become? You wouldn’t put it past him. Hell, you might have even welcomed it. But as he approached you, your eyes closing in anticipation, he did not bring that knife down upon your body. No, instead, with a few quick motions and the sound of the rope being cut, you slowly opened your eyes just as your hands were released from the rope’s grip.
On instinct, you brought your hands close to your chest, rubbing your raw wrists. You couldn’t even speak, you just watched as he kept the knife in his hand but returned back to his position of leaning back against the chair with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes on you.
"You're human," you found yourself uttering as you watched him watch you.
His brows twitched in confusion. "Of course I am.”
But Death couldn’t bleed. . . . Could he?
"You bleed,” you spoke your thoughts, dumbly.
His eyes met yours, but only briefly. "Am I not meant to?" he bit out before his gaze fell back on your hand rubbing your wrist. "Even the dead bleed."
Your confusion only spiraled. This was your end; your purgatory. This was Death, was he not? Your mother had been right. She had to have been right otherwise you were still alive; otherwise, you had managed to escape death once again without so much as a punishment. That wouldn’t be fair. That wouldn’t be right. That wouldn’t be just.
This had to be Death. You had to be dead or somewhere in between. It didn’t matter, this just had to be your end.
So, why hadn’t he condemned you yet?
Why—
"Why—” Death interrupted your thoughts, once you finally dropped your hand from your wrist— “did you think I couldn’t bleed?"
You glanced his way, finding his eyes already on you.
His stare only unnerved you more.
Why couldn’t he just kill you? You deserved it.
Your brows furrowed. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to play with your food?" you found yourself spitting out, finally finding your voice despite his devasting beauty capturing your words. "I put your lives in danger. I lead them here like you said. I could be with anyone. Having me here could kill you all, so take your revenge. Kill me."
The crease between his brows deepened further. "I'm not letting you die," he simply said, his anger quiet and calm . . . still. “You put my group in harm's way. I won’t pardon you for that . . . but . . . we don’t kill the living.”
That only unnerved you further.
Was this truly Death?
Surely he had killed before.
Although . . . you supposed perhaps he’d only just ever waited. Was that his fault? Waiting for the dead to find him? Is that how he found you in those woods? Is that how he’d taken your arm and helped you crossover to the other side? But . . . if that were true . . . where was your father now? Surely, he would’ve come to see you. Surely, he would’ve been the first one knocking at your door. Surely, he’d be here.
As you briefly wet your lips, your eyes flicked up to meet his. “Where’s my dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
A look of deep confusion twisted onto Death’s face, and then he was leaning forward to feel your forehead with the back of his hand. “Fever,” he mumbled more to himself before he pushed himself to his feet, the chair screeching against the floor. “Get some rest. Someone will be in to bandage you up and . . . I’ll be back in a couple hours with medication.” His gaze dropped to the large gash on your arm from just a few nights ago. “When you’re healed, we’ll give you some supplies and then you’ll be on your way, understood?”
But you just stared at him, silently pleading. Pleading for what? You didn’t know. All you knew was if your father wasn’t here, you couldn’t be dead. And if you weren’t, you wanted to be. You’d be able to find him then, because although you were no longer a girl who could kneel in church, you could still feel the scabs on your knees from years ago; you could still remember what it was to believe so blindly; you could still feel that insistent desire for there to be something beyond this world . . . something after this world.
There just had to be. You had to see him again. You had to find him.
You could die now. You could find him now. You would find him.
“Great,” Death muttered under his breath, breaking you out of your own mind. And with one final glance at your exhausted body, he began to turn and head for the door.
Fear struck you then. You had to find your father. “Wait, please—” you hastily grabbed onto his arm, only being able to reach his hand enough to dig your nails into his skin to halt him— “I beg of you.”
His eyes snapped to yours, wide and cautious as if at any moment, one wrong move and he’d grant your wishes. And all you could do was hope.
“Kill me,” you weakly whispered, hopelessly searching his eyes.
His brows twitched, taken back.
“Death,” you begged in a whisper, your bottom lip trembling, “please.”
But Death only stared back at you with a perplexing look written across his face. It was as if he couldn’t believe your request. Had no one ever begged him to die?
A heavy beat of silence pounded in your ears.
Death only continued to stare, a world raging on behind his eyes as he took you in. His demeanor was still calm, still collected, but he seemed . . . perturbed by your request, by your presence, by you. And you watched as his eyes trickled across your face, searching for something until finally . . . his gaze zeroed in on your cheek, his brows furrowing.
Then . . . you felt it.
A tear had slowly begun to slip down your cheek as if your body knew it was a sin to cry. But you were . . . crying that was.
You nearly gasped.
Another tear trickled down your cheek. Guilt followed.
But just as you were about to angrily wipe it away, there was a sharp knock at the door, breaking both you and Death out of your spell. The door opened a second later, a man peaking his head in with a solemn look on his face.
The man didn’t spare you a glance, he only cleared his throat and said, “Chris?” His brows raised, a silent message passing between the two. “A minute.”
Death only nodded, and then the man was gone, the door shutting behind him. Silence followed, but Death stayed unmoving, his arm still in your tight grasp.
“You won’t run,” he slowly spoke, his words a statement, not an order, but he didn’t turn to look at you. He kept his eyes on the door. “I don’t kill the living. I won’t kill you.” He paused, audibly swallowing, and then his eyes were on you. “And I know you won’t kill us.”
And then he was gone before you could blink, quickly tearing his arm out of your grasp before he reached the door and closed it behind him. You were alone with yourself once again, your thoughts running wild as your hand remained outstretched, almost frozen in place.
I know you won’t kill us, he’d told you.
But how could you kill Death? How did he know you wouldn’t if he didn’t give you what you wanted? How could he be so sure that you weren’t a killer, when you so clearly were?
You had killed before, and if he didn’t take you to the other side, you’d surely kill again. That was who you had become. That was who you were. He should’ve known that.
And then as you slowly laid your head back onto the pillow and allowed the minutes to tick by, the throbbing in your head began to subside, and the world became a little clearer. You were no longer a girl who could kneel in church. You did not believe anymore. The world had gone to shit, and it wasn’t because of God’s plan. There were no Horsemen. Your family was gone. And that . . . that man had not been Death.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you swallowed thickly. What was happening to you?
It all hit you then.
These were a group of survivors. That man surely was their leader, and you had just led hundreds of the dead to their doorstep. They should’ve killed you for that alone. You would’ve. You wouldn’t even hesitate if this had been your family. You would’ve done everything to keep them safe, even if it meant killing others, and yet . . .
I won’t kill you.
But why? You deserved it. You could see it in his eyes that he knew.
These were good people. And you were their bad omen.
It wouldn’t be long before your presence brought misery upon them, too, just as it had to your family. And it’d be all your fault.
You’d live, only to see many die. You’d make it out unscathed just as you always had, while they’d suffer, just as he had said.
It was then you realized this was not your purgatory, it was your Hell.
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taglist:
@amaranth-writing @binchanluvrr @dreamingsmile @eternalrajin
(i did post the teaser like a year ago, so if you want to be taken off, send me a lil message <3)
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ro-is-struggling · 3 days
Text
Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader
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Requested by anon
Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined. 
Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff
English is not my first language
Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)
Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!
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The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.
You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.
"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you. 
Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away. 
"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."
"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."
"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."
"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."
"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."
"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."
Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders. 
Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.
"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness. 
You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.
"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know. 
But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.
"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."
Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.
“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.
"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."
"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him. 
"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."
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Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.
For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.
"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence. 
The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.
However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands. 
He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.
His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.
They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.
Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts. 
You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go. 
Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.
Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.
Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.
The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.
"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.
But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.
It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.
In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.
A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.
"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.
"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.
"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.
"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you." 
He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.
You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.
“Princess?” 
His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.
"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves. 
He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so. 
"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right." 
You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal. 
When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.
"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.
"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."
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A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had. 
Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear. 
"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes. 
"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."
"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."
"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"
"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.
"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."
"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."
"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"
"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."
Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."
"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table. 
After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.
The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died. 
Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him. 
Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.
"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."
You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.
"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet." 
"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.
"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."
The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain. 
Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.
"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."
It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.
Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.
"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."
"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him. 
Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source. 
"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.
Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.
When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.
The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.
"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."
Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.
Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up. 
Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed. 
He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.
Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.
"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it. 
"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."
You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.
"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.
"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.
You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.
“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.
"Or maybe you're being naively nice."
Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.
You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.
They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.
"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."
Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.
The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him. 
That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.
"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned. 
"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.
"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.
"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."
There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that. 
"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."
Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you. 
The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. 
Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 
You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time. 
You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.
"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."
You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.
Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.
The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 
"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.
"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."
It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head. 
"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."
Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.
"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."
"Yes, Geralt, I will."
"Good."
Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.
He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body.  You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.
"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine. 
"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.
"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."
"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.
"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."
Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you. 
"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock. 
It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you. 
Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible. 
"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.
"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."
Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.
It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles. 
And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.
"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.
The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips. 
"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him. 
Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move. 
After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.
Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.
"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole." 
You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.
"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."
"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.
"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."
"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.
"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock." 
His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.
"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."
It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.
"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it." 
Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.
"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.
"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"
His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit. 
"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."
His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.
Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had. 
You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.
"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.
"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.
Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you." 
You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.
"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.
"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved. 
Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you. 
You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."
Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.
Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.
"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.
You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms. 
"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.
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It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.
You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.
"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"
Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."
You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."
"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."
You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.
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Will you still love me tomorrow?
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PAIRING: king!Steve Harrington x virgin!Reader WC:3k CW:Minors do not interact!! Very little plot, No use of y/n, reader has female body parts, also wears a dress and is called good girl, p in v, oral (both m and f, fingering (f receiving), losing virginity, cream pie, cum tasting, asshole Steve, mentions of sadness, mentions of a bet, mentions of Billy, doesn't end happy. SUMMARY: After your third date with King!Steve, you find yourself in his bed. AUTHOR NOTES: This is a rewrite of a fic I started on here but stopped, the smut was too good to go to waste. 💜Enjoy, please remember reblogs are strongly encouraged! Thank you to @cafekitsune for the amazing banners as always!
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His fingertips felt like fire, as they ran down your arms. You hadn't expected the night to end like this, it was your third date you'd promised yourself it was too early. But now you were in his room, your body hot because of each touch and kisses that King Steve placed on your skin. His lips ran over your neck, causing a strangled whimper to leave your lips. “Does my girl like that?” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he heard your noises. He’d craved this since he first clapped eyes on you in that little thigh-length summer dress, at the start of April.
The courting had been a long process for Steve, frustration mostly because you'd knocked him back again and again. He was the King, every girl wanted to be the Queen. But not you, you didn't want that it seemed and it left him feeling incredibly frustrated. You'd only given in and agreed to date him when he stood up on the table in the cafeteria, yelled your name across the room and asked you out. So many eyes on you at that moment, you felt like you were going to throw up. It was one of those high school cliche moments, everyone waiting for your answer.
How could you say no to him, then?
“Yes.” You finally managed to say to him, a strangled moan. You did like that, you liked his lips on your neck a lot. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, you clenched your legs together, nervousness bubbling inside of you. His hand moved to the flimsy strap on your dress and pulled it down agonizingly slowly. “Steve...” You whispered as he touched your zip. Did you want this, you'd never before and if you did would not make you just another one of his conquests?
 “Do you want me to stop?” He asked gently, looking you in the eyes. There was a sincerity to the look on his face, that made your heart skip a beat. He seemed to be taking into account that this was your first time and didn’t want to force you if you didn't want to. It made your heart flutter, he was so sweet and charming it's no wonder you found yourself falling for him. 
You realise he's still waiting for your reply, you'd been too busy studying his handsome face. “What was the question again?” You asked gently. “Do you want me to stop?” Steve asked as he cupped your face. “No, it's not that. I just haven't done this before.” You admitted, your cheeks burning.
You couldn't help but feel embarrassed having to admit that you were a virgin but deep down you knew it was nothing to be ashamed of. As long as it was the right partner, that was all that mattered. Steve had been wonderful on the three dates you'd been on together, you'd never had so much fun as you were having with him. You didn't think Steve was as nice and kind as he had been, he was even pretty romantic. He had you eating out of the palm of his hand
“It's okay, I'll guide you.” His words helped you relax, as did the kiss he planted on your jaw a moment later. His thumb ran over your cheek while he cupped your face in his large hand. Gently Steve pressed against you, guiding you down onto his pillows as his lips met yours. You were surrounded by his scent, instantly as your head touched the pillows. “I promise I'll be gentle.” He whispered before he pulled his shirt off.
Lying in his bed, you found yourself struggling to believe that you and Steve Harrington were going to have sex. Biting your lip gently, you watched as he tossed his shirt to the ground. Your eyes raked over his body, looking at the Adonis above you. “Do you like what you see?” He asked as he noticed your eyes running over him hungrily like a piece of meat.
 “Very much so.” He grinned, moving his hands around you to pull down your dress zip.
Your dress hit the floor, the same time your hips landed back on the bed, Steve watched you, sucking in a breath at the sight of you in your lace lingerie. Taking your hand, he pulled you up and looked you in the eyes. “I know you're nervous, I am too. I've not liked anyone the way I like you, not ever.” He whispered. 
“I like you too.” You replied, causing him to smile. Becoming a little braver, your free hand moved to touch him through his jeans. A hum left his lips, and you found yourself desperate to hear more of it. Desperate to make him moan for you, to hear noises that you were the cause of.
Letting go of his hand, you worked on his jeans needing to see more of him. Finally, you were able to pull them off -taking his boxers too- and found yourself staring, mouth agape. You stared at his large cock, unsure how he'd ever fit inside you. “Suck it.” Steve husked, as he watched you staring at his naked body. 
Taking hold of his shaft, you looked at how big his thick cock looked in your hand. You could hardly get your hand around it. Steve lets out a small moan as he watches you slowly lean down and take him in your mouth. 
You start slow, shy almost. Letting the tip into your mouth, your tongue washing over the masterpiece before you. As you inch him further into your mouth, you can't help but glance up, seeing his head leaning back and his hand running through his hair as he lets out a small groan.
Looking back down to the task at hand, you take him slightly deeper, feeling his shaft on your tongue. Your hand grips hold of him, holding what you cannot fit. Your tongue glides up the shaft as our head slowly starts bobbing up and down, taking him further each time. “That's it, baby girl, just like that.” He uttered humming once more.
As you move your head up, you taste the salty liquid of precum. A small moan leaves your lips as you focus on his hole wanting to taste it as much as possible. You feel his hand slipping into your hair and starting to grip tightly as he pushes you back down needing to be further in your mouth. “Such a good girl.” He moaned. “Who would've thought you're not as sweet and innocent as people thought.” He told you as Steve started to fuck your mouth, his cock moving faster seeing just how much of him you could take.
You try to keep yourself relaxed, but it's hard having his cock so deep in your mouth. You're desperate to impress him as well as pleasure him. But then he suddenly pulled out of your mouth, leaving you to whine. “It's okay baby, I just don't want to spill my load in your mouth.” He assured you. His hands found your hips easily and he pulled you down on top of him, his lips crashing against yours as his hands fiddled with your bra and underwear desperate to see the treats that lay under them. As he got them off, he rolled you over onto your back, throwing the items to the ground. 
Nestling himself between your legs, he looked down at you. “You're so beautiful.” He told you as his fingers brushed over your cheek. You couldn't help but feel hot under his touch, a small shy smile on your face. He was going to be your first, he was going to make you feel things you'd never felt.
His thumb ran over your lips once more before he moved down between your legs, he began to kiss your thighs, biting and sucking on them. Your hand moved to his and gripped his hair. “Steve!” She moaned as your body arched toward him. “I'm going to taste you.” The king whispered against your thigh. Nodding gently you looked at him as he moved toward your sweet sex.
You watched him, watched as he licked from your wet folds up to your clit then back again. Whimpers instantly began to fall from your lips, but soon turned to moans as he settled himself on your clit and pushed a finger inside. Your hand tugged on his now messy locks as he worked his magic with his tongue. “Steve, oh god!” You cried out feeling him smirking as he pumped his finger in, needing to stretch you out so you could take him.
“You're going to take me so well.” He told you between licks and sucks of your bean. His second finger slowly slipped inside of you causing you to gasp, the sting of the feeling of both of his thick fingers inside you caused you to suck in a breath. He began to pump them inside of you, pushing deeper as he licked and sucked on your clit.
Being so inexperienced, and feeling your whole body on fire, it didn't take him long to bring you to the brink. Your stomach twisted and turned in knots, your free hand gripped hard to the sheets below as a flood of pleasure washed over you. “Steve!” You moaned out, his fingers and tongue working faster to bring you to your climax. 
Your hips bucked up toward his mouth, your body shook with the force of his skills between your legs. He worked you through it. It was almost cliche to say that fireworks set off in your head. Feeling him press a kiss against your cut, he slowly sat back and licked his fingers clean as he did. His eyes remained on you the whole time, a smirk on his face. 
“You taste amazing.” 
Leaning down, he kissed your jaw softly. Anticipation hung in the air as you both knew what was coming next. Your hand moved to touch his cheek as you began to kiss, hunger caused the air to become thicker. His hand rested on your neck as he nestled between your legs. 
The kiss was a first in itself, he held onto you as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You could taste yourself and it made your stomach twist. You let out a small moan, desperate for more. You barely broke away to breathe only needing a moment to suck in a breath or let it out. He pulled back slowly making you whine.
“Are you sure?” He asked as he moved his hand to touch your cheek. 
“Yeah.” You answered in hardly a whisper. His eyes stayed on yours as he moved his hand to line himself up with your entrance. Your body felt almost like it was shaking still, you weren't sure if it was still because of the orgasm or what was going to happen next. But you could feel the nerves bubbling in your stomach as you moved your hands to take hold of his shoulders. 
Slowly, Steve pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. A gasp fell from your lips. He slowly pushed himself all the way inside you. You'd never felt this full before, never felt a feeling like this. You could feel yourself stretching around him, making adjustments for him. The sting of taking him slowly began to ease.
 “You're so tight.” He moaned looking in your eyes with a lopsided smile. You smiled back, you could get used to this, used to the way it felt as your naked bodies pressed together as his cock twitched inside of you as he gave you that moment you needed to adjust to him. 
His lips pressed against your neck, sucking gently as he began to thrust inside of you. Your hands gripped hold of his back, your nails pressing into his flesh. “Good girl, taking me so well,” Steve uttered against your skin. Steve's hand ran down your body to your leg, pushing it up and lifting it over his shoulder. 
“Oh god!” You cried out as he thrust in deeper. He pulled back from your neck and looked down at you, the smirk back on his face. “Who is making you feel this good?” He asked his tone full of lust and desire. “You, Steve.” He pressed his lips to yours almost like a reward for you saying his name.  
“You like that, you dirty girl,” Steve uttered, biting your lip as he watched the look on your face as he thrust inside of you. You moaned as he went further inside of you, you felt him hitting the right spot and it took everything inside you not to come at that moment. “Yes!” You cried out as each thrust bottomed out inside of you. Your nails dug in hard to his back, causing the king of Hawkins High to cry out loudly. “Do you like that?” You questioned starting to become a little more confident. 
He didn't answer, he just nodded his head as he moved his hand to stroke your cheek. His thumb moved down and into your mouth, you instantly started to suck on it as it passed your lips. “Good girl.” He whispered, biting his lip between his teeth. 
You couldn't help but stare up at his face, looking at the way his hair bounced, watching the way his jaw went tight, or the desire in his eyes, the light Sheen of sweat on his brow. He took his hand from your mouth and moved it down to your breast, his hand kneading it like it was dough. 
Your eyes started to close, getting lost in the pleasure. But his hand moved from the breast and grabbed your chin. “Keep looking at me baby.” He ordered, thrusting hard inside of you almost like a punishment. His hand moved back to your breast, this time rubbing and tweaking your nipple once your eyes were open.
“Steve!” You gasped, your body arched wanting to feel him deeper inside of you. Dropping your leg, he moved his hand either side of you in the bed and started to thrust harder. The bed began to move under the two of you, whining and creaking nearly as loud as you were.
“I'm close.” You announced and he seemingly smirked.
“So am I.” He told you. “Am I okay to...?” You nodded gently unable to speak as his thrusts became harder, and caused a loud moan to leave you.
“Yes!” You cried out. Your orgasm hit you a moment later, you couldn't help but let out a loud groan. Your body arching, and your hands held him tightly. “Steve!” His name came out of your lips in a moan, your body starting to shake as he fucked you through your orgasm.
 “Fuck!” Steve uttered with a thrust, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you filling you with his seed. Causing another moan out of your pretty mouth, as you felt the ropes of cum painting your walls.  
He thrust inside of you a couple more times, making sure he was empty before he pulled out and looked down at you. “Look at you, such a mess,” Steve smirked as he reached down and pushed his cum back inside of you, causing your body to twitch and throb at the feel of him. 
Moving up the bed, he lay beside you and pushed his fingers into your mouth. “See how we taste together.” He ordered you. Licking and sucking his fingers, he smirked softly. “Such a good girl.” He whispered watching you clean his fingers. “So good.”
Pulling them from you he smirked softly and lay back his arm resting behind his head as he basked in the post-sex glow. It was then it felt like it all changed. He didn't hug you, he didn't speak to you, he just lay there catching his breath and smiling to himself. Looking down at him, you swallowed hard asking if you should lay down beside him. Or was he done with you? You'd given him what he wanted and he became almost cold.
“Are you going to stay for a while?” His words broke you out of your thoughts. “Or have you got to be going?” Steve asked you, causing you to question if he was throwing you out or not. “Do you want me to go?” You asked awkwardly. You knew the answer, it was obvious and it made your chest ache. Steve shrugged his shoulders, laying there naked as the day he was born.
“Well I'm pretty tired, but you can stay if you want.” Looking away from him you bit your lip and shook your head. “My curfew is soon, so I'll leave you to sleep.” You said gently. Steve sat up and pressed his lips to your shoulder. “I'll call you, okay?” He whispered gently against your skin. “I look forward to it.” You whispered glancing over at him before he lay back down leaving you to dress and see yourself out.
Stepping out into the cool night air, you glanced back at his house as you bit down on your lip. You tried to tell yourself that he was going to call you, that he'd be on the phone tomorrow asking you out again. But he didn't even offer to drive you home, you hoped you were wrong and that you hadn't just been used. He was going to call, he had to call.
By Sunday night, he still hadn't called you.
By Monday you saw his arm slung around a cheerleader flirting like crazy.
By Wednesday you found out he had a bet with Tommy H to bed you.
By Friday you had slapped him in front of the whole school.
And by the following Friday Steve was bubbling with jealousy as he watched Billy Hargrove flirt with  you and he realised he'd truly fucked up. 
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Mutual tags: @yourfavoritewitchbitch @darleenjade @teen--marvel @southerngothicchic @wroteclassicaly @mrprettywhenhecries @msbillyhargrove @bunnyhargrove @keerysfolklore @littlexdeaths @undead-supernova @thecreelhouse @hi-im-peanut-butter-pretzels
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs are much appreciated 💜💜
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vhsgoghs · 16 hours
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roommates (Simon Riley one shot)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader
Summary: Simon is jealous that his roommate dates other guys TW: none word count: 1966 note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.
★ masterlist here
★ spanish ver on wattpad (vhsgoghs)
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It was a stupid fight as always, the last few weeks they had been fighting as if they were a divorced couple that had ended up on the worst possible terms.
And she hated it, she hated fighting with him because it wasn't easy living with a person who seemed to hate you one day and be his favorite person the next, but here she was, in their third fight of the week, feeling her face burn with a mixture of anger and sadness.
"I already told you no!" she yelled desperately.
She had completely forgotten the initial fight, now they were simply arguing about whatever came to their mind, as if they were both bringing out those misunderstandings that they had kept inside for weeks.
But this time something was different, there was something different in the conclusion that Simon had reached in those moments.
"It seems disrespectful to me and my sleeping hours that you arrive at whatever time you want." She rolled her eyes and looked away, but she could feel Simon's eyes on her. "You come late at night and it wakes me up."
"Does that wake you up? You sleep like a bear." she said annoyed.
And (Y/N) could lie about many things, but right now she was right, the only reason Simon heard her every night was because he just wouldn't close his eyes until she walked through the apartment door, no matter how long ago he had gotten into bed, he just didn't.
Simon felt the anger vibrate in his body, he had looked for every possible way to put that fight aside, but he simply ended up shouting whatever stupidity made the fight continue and it was his fault, it was his fault for not measuring his words and it was his fault for not closing his mouth and asking for forgiveness.
He wasn't even a violent person, he considered himself quite calm and, at some point, patient, but the last few weeks his emotions had been all over the place and he felt overwhelmed.
(Y/N) was not responsible for his anger. It was true, she could date any boy who crossed in front of her and that shouldn't be Simon's problem. He had never cared about it, but something had changed in the last few months and it could all be resume in one damn word: jealousy.
"That's not the point!" He sighed, it was becoming difficult for him to hide his anger, his tone of voice was not cooperative at all.
"You're an idiot." She muttered. The tone of her voice wasn't annoying, there was a small hint of frustration, but no more than that.
And (Y/N) didn't know what it was like to be angry with her roommate. Simon was a pain in the ass sometimes, but most of the time they both knew how to handle things. They had a good friendship, but Simon's attitude was starting to cause problems.
They were both silent for a few seconds, she looked away and waited to hear something from him, but she knew him, he wasn't going to take the first step or that's what she thought, because Simon always planned to take the first step if it came to someone who he cared.
"I'm sorry" his voice was soft when he spoke again. The girl raised her face and stared at him, she waited for her to give him some more information about his apology. "I'm sorry, I know I've been an idiot and it's not your fault."
"I'm sorry too." She nodded. "I know it's not nice to be so late."
Simon felt guilty and quickly shook his head, it wasn't her fault that he didn't know how to control his emotions. He had thought about it more than once, he tried to find a way to explain his behavior without telling the truth, but it was impossible, everything sounded like a cheap excuse, which in reality, it was.
"I'm jealous." He finally admitted and that felt like the worst hit to the chest, especially when he heard the giggle coming from the girl.
Simon looked at her confused, his brow furrowed at her laughter, which stopped immediately as soon as she saw the seriousness on his face.
"Are you serious?" He nodded and she suddenly felt guilty for laughing. For a second she thought it was one of those things Simon always said to lighten the mood. "I… Why?"
He sighed, what was he supposed to say to her? That for some reason, after drinking a couple of beers he realized that he had feelings for her? That was the only truth, but she was afraid. He looked like a teenager who didn't know how to ask a girl out on a date. He wasn't a teenager, he was an adult… who didn't know how to ask a girl out on a date.
"Listen, we've lived together for a long time." Simon took a couple of steps towards her, he could almost swear she had tensed up. "And I think… I have feelings for you."
(Y/N) pursed her lips and tried her hardest not to yell in his face, not because she was angry, but this had taken her by surprise and she simply didn't know how to respond.
"When you say something, you mean like when the milk runs out and I'm not going to buy more?" Simon giggled and shook his head, his little laughs in the middle of a conversation were one of her favorite things when she was talking to him.
"I think you're pretty and we'd be a great couple."
"Of course not." She shook her head although she couldn't stop that smile that escaped her lips. She was starting to feel nervous because she didn't know how to handle that situation. "Don't you think living together will ruin us?"
"Of course not." Simon reduced the distance even more, making her feel even more nervous, however, she was still there, in front of him, completely motionless, without showing her true feelings towards him. "I know how messy you are in the mornings, but when you come back at night it bothers you to see the mess." She smiled, it was totally true. "I also know what you eat daily, but on the weekends you always change your diet, so I could take you anything for dinner and you won't say no."
"Are you going to invite me to dinner?"
"Yes, and you will accept."
She narrowed her eyes. She hated that know-it-all attitude…actually, she liked it. She had always made fun of girls who had intense reactions to that kind of attitude and now, in those moments, she completely felt like one of those.
Her mother had told her, she knew Simon, she liked him, and she had mentioned that his feelings for her were too obvious. However, (Y/N) had only laughed at that and completely denied it because she always thought it was impossible for her roommate to have feelings for her.
But now she was here, with him in front of her, after confessed his feelings in the most direct way possible, something she appreciated, even if she hadn't said it out loud.
"I think… maybe I'll accept." She nodded. She was beginning to feel the nerves prickling at the tip of her stomach. She had never felt so nervous around Simon, maybe the first time she saw him shirtless, but that had been an accident.
Simon thought about it for a few seconds, but finally wrapped one of his arms around her hip. He didn't hold her too close to him, he held back, he wanted her to feel safe with him, but (Y/N) already felt too safe with him. She trust him enough after living together for so many years.
In her head, just for a second, she thought he might be going too fast, but he wasn't a stranger. If they hadn't fought so much in the past few days, she would even dare to call him one of her best friends.
Simon and (Y/N) had gotten used to having dinner together most nights, but that night was different, everything felt different, neither of them were at the other end of the couch, watching the television in silence.
No, Simon had discovered that he didn't care at all about personal space when he practically found himself with the girl on top of him, the TV didn't seem to matter right now, their conversation seemed much more interesting than even dinner.
"What about that time you said the guy I was dating seemed married in secret with three kids?" She put it on a list the boys she had dated in the past and about whom Simon always seemed to have something to say.
"Well, that wasn't jealousy, he did seem married with three children." He wrinkled his nose remembering that boy who was not at all attractive in his opinion. "Did you go on a date with him again?"
"Of course not. If my roommate, who is also my friend, says he seems married with three children, he is probably married with three children."
Simon laughed. He had never purposely ruined her dates, for many months he had kept his distance, watching the girl he loved date someone else, however, there were certain comments that had come out of his mouth without thinking and probably had more impact on the girl's decision than he thought.
"I'm not just your friend and roommate anymore, right?"
Ella entrecerró los ojos. Pensó en hacer una broma y tal vez jugar un poco después de todas las peleas que le había hecho pasar, pero Simon no era alguien que se expresara con la misma facilidad que lo había hecho ese día, así que no iba a arruinarlo.
"No, you certainly aren't." She murmured.
They were both silent for several seconds, he was attractive, too much. She had never denied or hidden it, she had simply tried not to see him that way, she liked living with him, changing the way she see him would be a big problem for their coexistence.
Simon leaned towards her and she could feel his breath brush against her lips, making her more nervous than she already was. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep his gaze. Under other circumstances, she would have already pulled away, but she wasn't going to be the first to take a step back.
"I want to kiss you."
"Why do you announce it?" Her brow furrowed slightly. Any other boy wouldn't even have taken as much time as he was doing right now.
"Because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
(Y/N) felt like she stopped breathing for a second, she nodded slowly, silently giving him permission. For a second she hated him, because how could she not be attracted to this man who not only knew her well, but made any other man look like nothing next to him?
When he finally pressed his lips against hers, her breathing actually hitched for several seconds. Simon was gentle, setting a slow pace and for a second she felt like she had never kissed anyone in her life and was completely inexperienced.
His arms slid around her waist slowly, pulling her towards him. For the first time, she felt Simon's arms completely surrounding her.
She felt a little disappointed when he pulled away from her, breaking the kiss, and her lips itched for more, but she noticed that for the first time, a boy had been able to make her blush and feel completely nervous.
Her mother was right when she said she was going to end up with the boy she shared her apartment with.
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missjomarch · 3 days
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Josephine - Luke Hughes
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A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.
Word Count: 3.7k 😳
Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.
(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)
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Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight. 
The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks. 
He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you. 
“Luke.” 
His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips. 
“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?” 
Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?” 
With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile. 
“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…” 
“Luke.” 
Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance. 
“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat. 
“Fine, Jack.” 
“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.” 
Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed. 
“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place. 
He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl. 
“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months. 
His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving. 
“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him? 
“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. 
“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.
“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…” 
“Luke.” 
Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind. 
“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked. 
“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.” 
Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?” 
Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window. 
Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.” 
“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest. 
“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare. 
“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense. 
“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.” 
“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.
“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh. 
“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.” 
“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it. 
“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face. 
“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke. 
“How long have you been following behind me?” 
“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face. 
“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left. 
“What’d I miss?” 
“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you. 
“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you. 
“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away. 
“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.” 
You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.” 
“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face. 
You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.” 
“Lukey!”
John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on. 
“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?” 
“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment. 
When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates. 
Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage. 
“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors. 
“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”
“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother. 
Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you.  So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone. 
Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less. 
Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent. 
“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned. 
Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.” 
“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”
Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back. 
“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”       
Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.
“Alright. Night, Luke.” 
“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone. 
“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?” 
It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates. 
“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house. 
 “Someone hit me.” 
Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?” 
“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck. 
“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern. 
“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”              
This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option. 
“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you. 
“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke. 
“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”
Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand. 
“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center. 
“For what, love?” 
“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled. 
“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?” 
Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way. 
“Mhmm. Lukey?” 
“Yeah, baby?” 
Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.” 
Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster. 
“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?” 
Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand. 
“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear. 
“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.” 
Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead. 
“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey. 
“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.” 
“Luke.” 
Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’  Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’ 
“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality. 
Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all. 
“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.” 
Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything. 
“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.” 
Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself. 
“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.” 
“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.” 
Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him. 
“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?” 
“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.” 
A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?” 
Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself. 
“Even Secretariat.” 
So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now. 
133 notes · View notes
strangemaleswaps · 2 days
Text
Strange Job Swap
“Oh it's beautiful!” exclaimed the customer waiting in line. I handed her a nicely decorated cake for her son's birthday.
“It's no big deal. Just doing my job.” I acted like it was no big deal, but really I was gladly accepting the praise!
“This is perfect though. Have you considered being an artist?” she replied with a slightly more serious look.
“Yes I have actually…but the job market is tough.”
“Aww you'll get there eventually! Don't give up! Well anyway, you made my day so for that, thank you!”
“You're welcome.” I was a bit sad though, because she was right; I SHOULD be an artist. I recently earned my bachelor's degree, but yet I was still stuck in this dumb hick town, working as a grocery store cake decorator. I may have been good at what I do but I wouldn't want to do it forever!
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At least my co-workers are pretty decent, especially my fellow bakery buddies, Chase, Amber, and Domingo. Amber was cool and didn't take anyone’s shit, which is why I loved seeing her because I didn't have much confidence when dealing with unruly customers. Domingo was very sweet, and even though he didn't speak very good English, he's hella good at his job. And Chase, well…he's hot! His bleach blond hair somehow always caught the light at a perfect angle. I don't know how I even kept my focus when he's working next to me.
At the end of my shift, I clocked out, and decided to buy a couple groceries like I normally did. I scanned everything at the self-checkout, put the receipt into one of my bags, and started walking towards the exit. The store had 2 exits on either side of the front, but I only took one because the other had a certain asshole at it - Richard.
The greeter position was removed a long time ago, but they bring it back for employees that have been injured or are too old, so that they can keep their jobs. Now this old guy named Richard had surgery a long time ago and became the greeter while he recovered. But yet he never went back to his old position.
He always stays at one specific entrance, and the reason I hated him so much was because he's racist. Part of his job has him checking customers’ receipts to make sure they didn't steal anything, which seems pretty unnecessary when you have those anti-theft machines at the exit. But I've seen him. The only people he checks the receipts for are minorities. It's not a subtle thing either; he’s super friendly, greeting and saying goodbye to all the white people passing but when it comes to someone who's not, his demeanor suddenly changes. 
My luck must've run out today, because I found the sliding glass doors at my usual exit were broken and currently being fixed. The area was blocked off by a barricade, and I knew there was only one other way to leave. I headed over to the other exit, and there Richard was, waving goodbye to a white mother and her toddler. He was wearing his typical gray uniform shirt that was clearly too small, because you could see his gut and nipples trying to poke through. Gross.
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I moved through the aisle, trying not to draw attention to myself, but it was all for nothing because right on cue, Richard walked up to me and gave a great big (and so obviously fake) smile.
“Hello sir, can I see your receipt please?”
“Richard, it's me, Marco. I work in the bakery. You've seen me a million times before.” His smile suddenly faded, and his eyes narrowed, as if every ounce of happiness in his body just vanished.
“That's no excuse. How do I know you aren't stealing?”
“Because I want to keep my job?”
“Don't backtalk to me. You seem awfully suspicious today.” He then reached for his walkie talkie and started to page a manager. I really was able to walk out with no repercussions because I truly didn't steal anything, but there's a chance he would page the Asset Protection lady, who was almost as awful.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nobody answered him. Thank god.
“Am I free to go now?” I said happily. The anger returned to his face.
“Just don't let me catch you stealing again. Or there'll be consequences!”
“Yeah…suuuure.” I walked out the door, into my car, and back home. I can't believe some people honestly. I was so sick of this town! I needed to move away real soon.
When I got home my dog, Kenny, was excited to greet me as usual so I let him outside to do his business while I got into my running clothes, prepping for a run. As I let Kenny back in, I went to check the mail and found a weird envelope in between the bills and spam. I opened it up and it was a letter addressed “to whom it may concern”. I threw it away without a second thought but Kenny suddenly ran up to the trash can, took it out, and placed it back in front of me.
“You really want me to read this, don't you boy?” I said cheerily as I patted him on the head.
“To whom it may concern,
Are you struggling with your current job? Unhappy with the life you have? Well I have just the cure for that! We are now selling happiness inducing coins for only $1 with free shipping! One flip of this coin will guarantee you will soon get a job you love! Get it fast before it all runs out! Just follow the link on the back of this letter if you are interested.” - VV
I wondered who or what VV was supposed to be, and $1 with free shipping sounds too good to be true, so this seemed like a scam. I also wasn't a superstitious person,  but for some reason my gut was telling me that this was a good idea. Kenny seemed to think so too as he was wagging his tail under the table and I read. I followed the link listed on the back of the page, typing in each random letter and number combination into my phone and ordered the lucky coin. I went to bed that night feeling a little more hopeful.
The next day at work was just like the previous day, only the door was fixed so I didn't have to walk out the exit Richard was standing at. We did make eye contact though, and he shot me a dirty look. I got home to find that the package had already arrived, which was awfully quick. I cut open the box and inside was a golden coin with a picture of a brain on it. The other side had a picture of a person with their arms spread wide. It was a really weird design. I read the instructions.
How to use:
Flip the coin
No matter what side it lands on, you'll be guaranteed happiness in your new job!
It sounded so lame, but I followed the instructions anyway. I flipped the coin the air, and slapped it on the back of my other hand. Tails. Nothing happened. I guess it was just $1 so it wasn't a huge waste of my time. It's pretty cool looking so maybe I could display it on my dresser or something.
I felt especially tired the rest of the night, but I was fine because I had a day off tomorrow. I was gonna go to the park with Kenny, as well as do a few errands. I was just glad I had time away from my job.
The next morning my alarm went off for some reason. I must've accidently set it by mistake. The weirder thing was Kenny wasn't there. Normally at the sound of my alarm, he comes running from wherever he was sleeping, and jumps on the bed to get me up. But there was nothing. When I started to truly wake up and become more alert, I realized that my alarm was set to the default or something. Instead of my usual calming piano, it was an annoying ringing. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. My vision was blurry, but I could tell I wasn't in my own room.
What happened? Did someone kidnap me? The alarm clock wasn't even on a phone, but rather it was an actual alarm clock. I had no idea what was going on, but I reached over to turn it off so I could think. I'm certain I must've been kidnapped somehow but why? And why would they set an alarm clock? I couldn't see but felt around the nightstand for a clue and found a pair of glasses. When I tried them on, just like that, my vision returned to normal. I had perfect vision before! Why did I suddenly need glasses? I reached up to scratch my head and found my hairline was incredibly receded. I was balding! I looked down with my now clear vision to find an even worse fact. I was chubby!
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I sat up and stared at the foreign gut and two large man tits, as well as numerous graying chest hairs. I ran my hands through the hair, pinching them to make sure they were real. I pinched the tits as well, and felt sensations I've never felt before as they wobbled when I let go. I ran my hands through my face and felt a mustache and double chin, and began feeling nauseous at the thought of what I actually looked like. I didn't see a mirror in the room so I walked out the door trying to find a bathroom. The fat jiggled all around as I ran.
I got to the bathroom and nearly puked on the spot when I saw who I was. Richard. Oh god no. Of all people, I had to look like this racist bastard? I stared at myself and grazed my hands along my face. Suddenly I felt angry and started pinching it instead, as if I was doing the same thing to the real Richard, but denial didn't help; that was my face and it hurt. I touched his mustache and pinched it, as if it would come off. 
Just then I heard the doorbell ring. I didn't want to interact with anybody looking like this but until I figured out how to fix it, I knew I had to pretend to be Richard. I answered the door to find the mailman.
“Howdy Rich! Woah uh.” He stared at my chest. I forgot I was still shirtless. Having this much fat hanging from my body was almost like answering the door naked. “I see you've lost some weight!” he said, obviously lying.
“Oh uh, thanks.” I replied, trying to imitate Richard’s voice, which was pretty easy considering I've mocked him before.
“Well anyway, not much today; just a letter.” He handed me a letter with a purple stamp on it.
“Well uh see you tomorrow!” The mailman went on his way and I closed the door. I opened the letter and found a note similar to the lucky coin advertisement.
To whom it may concern,
Good morning! I trust that your lucky coin worked well? Welcome to your new life! As promised, you now have a job that you love. Unhappy with the results? Just flip the coin once again, and make sure it lands on what it landed on before! If not, however, your fate is sealed. Best Wishes! - VV, Venefica Viola
Shit. They're not lying though. Richard did love his job. And since I was in his body, I now had that job! But who is this Venefica Viola? It sounded like Latin somehow. I walked back to the bedroom to find Richard’s phone. Luckily he didn't have any lock screen pin so I could easily get in. I searched for a translator, dodging the random pop up ads that were everywhere on his phone and looked up Venefica Viola.
Violet Witch. So magic is involved somehow. I needed to get my coin back so I could undo this! It must still be at my own house. Shit! I just realized why the alarm clock went off. Richard worked today! He had perfect attendance and never uses his PTO, so not going in was gonna look suspicious. I glanced at the clock and realized I only had 20 minutes. 
Even though I'd love to see Richard be humiliated by going to work in his underwear, I decided that it wasn't worth attracting attention so I looked through his clothes to put on a work uniform. I found a pair of boxers and accidently flashed myself when I completely forgot I didn't have my own dick either. It was all wrinkly, but honestly a lot bigger than I thought. No. I was not about to get horny over Richard's dick! I found what he normally wore to work and put the rest on. I found tucking the shirt was more difficult than usual, as I had to pull it over my belly.
I guess I could make this work…for now. I hated to admit it, but Richard wasn't all that bad looking. It was his personality and habits that made him so repulsive, but now that I was in control of him, he didn't look all that bad. Maybe I could even turn things around for now and do something nice for the people I know he hates. I grabbed the car keys on the nearby table, and drove to work.
I walked in the store, put Richard's nametag on, and clocked in. I nearly started walking to the bakery area but stopped myself. I guess I'm really going to have to be a greeter for a day. This feels humiliating. I made my way to the front entrance and just stood there, waiting for customers to enter or exit.
Soon enough customers began arriving and I tried my best to act like Richard, though one customer asked if I was all right because I guess I overdid it. I didn't ask any customers to show their receipts though, because I might as well take advantage of being a greeter. I noticed Domingo at the checkout and when he bagged up his groceries, he approached me first instead of the door. He hastily grabbed his receipt and started showing it to me. I wasn't about to let this happen.
“No no it's ok. You don't have to show me the receipt anymore.”
“No?” He looked shocked.
“Checking receipts is stupid anyway. I don't need to do it anymore.”
“Really? I can go?”
“Yep! Have a good day.” It was unnerving seeing him so scared at the sight of me, but he smiled like normally did as he put the receipt back in the bag and walked out.
As I moved towards the break room to take my break, I noticed someone who looked awfully familiar walk through the door. It was…me! I mean Richard. It must've been; if I was in his body, he must've been in mine. It became more obvious by the way he was walking, taking big steps as if he was used to having his gut swinging around…like mine was now. God I hated this. I had to talk to him to sort things out. He smirked as I approached.
“Hey!”
“Oh it's you. I mean me. I mean,” he paused for a second and rounded his mouth into an even bigger smile, which looked uncanny with my face. “The old me.”
“What do you mean ‘the old you’”?
“Well seeing as I'm much younger now, while you're much older, I think the term is appropriate.”
“Well yeah, but not for long. I'm going to switch us back.”
“Oh no you're not! I may have preferred being white, but I’m enjoying youth again! Oh, and don't worry. I saw that coin thing and that letter this morning, and I made sure it would never see the light of day again. You got that…Richard?” 
He called me that in the same mocking tone that I always use to call him. I can't believe this!
“Y-you can't do this! I had a future!”
“That's my future now old man. You know maybe I could be a model with these looks. Maybe make one of those, what do you kids call it? OnlyFans?”
God no, I'm an artist, not a pornstar. He can't do this!
“The greeter is a real fun job, Richard. Enjoy it. You're hired!”
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mysterystarz · 2 days
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the world is yours, if you ask
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pairing: iwaizumi hajime x g!n reader
genre: slightly angsty but has nothing to do with iwa (he helps), fluffy moments, comfort, reader realizes that perhaps the one was right in front of them the entire time
disclaimers: reader has a bf for plot, there is no cheating!! reader is going to split up with this bf dw
a/n: remember you always deserve love!
reblogs and comments are appreciated <3
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if iwaizumi hajime said that he wasn’t used to emotional responses from the people closest to him, he’d be the biggest liar of all time.
knowing oikawa for as long as he had, he’d almost come to expect the cycle of responses based off their games, their grades, or even minor inconveniences. his friend was strong, sure, but he knew what to expect from the childish setter.
but you. he didn’t know what to expect when you, the strongest person he knew, appeared at his doorstep.
behind you, the darkening hues of evening brought out the shadows in your face, and he could see the weight of the sadness you held on your shoulders.
“iwa….hajime,” you tried, shakily smiling when he finally met your gaze.
he was going to kill whoever did this.
“come inside,” he said immediately, escorting you by your shoulder to the inside of the foyer. he pulled up a chair for you to sit, his eyes never leaving your form.
“thanks for taking me on such short notice,” you said, settling into the chair, “i….didn’t know where else to go.”
he inched closer, green eyes filled with a concern so deep, you were momentarily speechless.
“what happened?”
your breathing stilled for a moment as you recounted the events that had led you to where you sat now.
“my boyfriend…..wasn’t very nice to me.” you started, “i mean, it’s not his fault. i wasn’t really cooperating with him. he wanted me to hang out with him, but i had a test and really needed to study. he hasn’t said more than a few words to me since.”
iwaizumi clenched his fists. when oikawa had first told him the news of your relationship, he’d extended a congratulations.
that period of felicitation was short lived however. your boyfriend was a dick — plain and simple —and iwaizumi couldn’t think of anyone who deserved you less.
“what do you mean it’s not his fault?” iwaizumi chose to say, hiding his frustration at your tolerance for mistreatment. you tolerated far too much.
“well, we’d had a deal,” you began, “once we got through last week’s exams, we were supposed to take this week chill together. he’d been so nice about it too, but as soon as i changed my mind and wanted to do well….he just….shut me out. i called him you know…and he barely said anything.”
“and?” he asked expectantly. he knew you. he knew you wouldn’t accept that forever.
“i begged to communicate.” your voice broke a bit at the end, and iwaizumi would’ve enveloped you in a hug hadn’t it been for the topic. “i said we needed to communicate so we could see how to make this work for the both of us. he said he’d said everything. i begged him to talk but….well i just hung up and he never called back.”
you fell silent, the weight of it heavier than anything you could’ve endured. your phone sat limply in your pocket, with no signs of anything.
he wasn’t going to call tonight. that was certain.
iwaizumi sighed, meeting your eyes. “you don’t have to take this you know?”
you looked back at him in surprise. “what do you mean?”
“i mean,” he said, reaching his hand to set gently on top of your own, “you don’t need to keep staying with someone who treats you like this. i know how much you’ve taken from him, but the least he could’ve done is call back.”
“i’m hopeful,” you admitted, watching iwaizumi’s eyes shift into something more determined.
it took you a moment to realize, but sitting there, iwaizumi’s hand on top of your own, you were calmer than you’d been in months.
“if he cared to talk this out, he would’ve called. it doesn’t take long to even shoot a text. what he’s doing is holding you to his standards and belittling you for making your own decisions.”
iwaizumi paused for a moment, as if in deep thought. “and someone like you doesn’t deserve that. someone as brilliant as you deserves someone who uplifts and cherishes your efforts.”
“you think i’m brilliant?” you blurted out, immediately embarrassed when the ace grinned blindingly at you.
“yeah,” he laughed, a slight tinge of pink making its way onto his ears. “the world is yours if you ask for it, y/n.”
you sat there stunned for a moment, the weight of the words shifting your entire view. you’d never realized before how loyal iwaizumi was to you.
he had always had your best interests in mind. whether it be escorting you home on days your boyfriend didn’t care to, or even sacrificing his sleep schedule just to ensure you were feeling alright if you couldn’t sleep at night.
he was devoted in all the ways your boyfriend could never even dream of being.
perhaps, you were looking in the wrong place all along.
perhaps, your perfect fit was right in front of you.
“thank you hajime.” you whispered, leaning in to hug him. he held you tight to his chest, never once wavering as you clung to him like a lifeline. “i think i’m going to call things off.”
iwaizumi rubbed circles onto your back. “no matter what happens, i’ll be here.”
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©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited
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blublublujk · 3 days
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nobody knows (2)
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-> part 1
word count: 3k
genre: established relationship (hard dom x slutty sub)
pairing: hoseok x reader and jungkook x reader
summary:
a few minutes pass as you entertain yourself on some random game on your phone before he messages again. daddy: if you even think of actually going out with a friend i’ll chop their dick off.  me: who said it would be a man?  daddy: have fun then baby don't stay out too late! 
warnings: [please read if you are sensitive] hard dom hoseok!!, needy sub reader!!, hoseok is actually sweeter this time, cheating ig?, reader gets her period, explicit sexual content: idk how i forgot this last time but DADDY KINK, thumb sucking, blowjob, throat-fucking, pictures during sex, shy awkward virgin jungkook, sexting, cum on panties, suggestive language
a.n: i'd let this hoseok ruin my fucking life. this is so fun. can you tell he's my bias >.< tbh im making up all plot on spot i wanted to explore the actual relationship first before we see anything else of jk x reader. hoseok can be sweet... he needs to fuck the reader already!!! anyways thanks for being very patient with me. see you on the next one ^.^
—> m.list
—> find me on ao3 & twt
--
“baby.” hoseok’s lips are warm against your cheek, hot breath hitting the soft skin. “i’m off to work.”
your voice is groggy, hair a mess, but it doesn’t stop you from flinging out of bed in a pout. “already? you said we could do breakfast.”
“yeah, well plans changed. i really needa finish this song i’m working on. i’ll be back before dinner. no promises though.” hoseok doesn’t hesitate to say the words, he doesn’t look back as he fixes his collar and brushes fingers through his bed hair. an apology would be nice, but it never comes. 
this is the third time this week hoseok misses breakfast, much less makes it to dinner. somehow always managing to create more work for himself and keep busy while you rot away in the dormitory. it wasn’t fair to you, though you can’t really say you didn’t sign up for this. you knew exactly what this lifestyle came with, fame and money only meant hoseok would never truly be yours as you are his and you had to simply respect that. as sad and lonely as you can be at times. 
“but daddy—” 
“not now angel, you’ll be good for me right?” and just like that you succumb to his strong, firm demeanor. he digs his thumb into the fat of your cheeks, flicking your bottom lip. hoseok licks his own, watching your mouth take his thumb. immediately he feels your warm tongue, sucking him in like a vice, mouth so pliant and fuckable. 
he takes that as a ‘yes daddy’ the way you look up at him while you suck on his thumb like the sweet girl you are. eyes heavy and lustful. 
well, if he isn’t gonna do breakfast with you as he promised, you’ll get yours right now. two can play the same game, but only one wins in the end. something tells you that you fall victim to the game anyways, it was never yours to win. 
your hands find his waistband as you look up to him with hopeful eyes. he’ll probably be late if he plays this game, but it’s too much fun to resist. plus, which man on earth is known for rejecting a blowjob. certainly not this one. 
hoseok tugs his pants down, allowing you to pull down his boxers as his cock springs to life. he takes his thumb out of your mouth and caresses your cheek carelessly, smearing your own spit all over it. the things he would do for that face, so pretty and willing. and all fucking his.
you get to work and on your knees immediately. grabbing his cock in your hands, you lick and suck the tip while hoseok throws his head back, feeling you slurp him down. he fails to resist the temptation to fuck your throat so with no warning he holds a tight grip of your hair and forces your head down. mouth hot and tight around him, wetting his cock so nicely. 
eyes springing tears already, but alas he’s not gentle. he fucks your throat and you feel him grow larger in your mouth, drooling spit all over yourself. “fuck baby, you’re perfect.”
you moan airily, struggling to breathe as he thrusts harder, throat stretching for him and him only. just like you were made for it. 
he groans, feeling that warm wet grip swallowing around him. “just like that, such a slut for it. don’t think you deserve my cum.”
you shake your head profusely, sad-eyes looking up at him while sharp eyes mirror your own. his lips tug at the end and he’s smirking watching you desperately beg for it. 
he releases his grip, spit instantly drips from your mouth, covering yourself with your own juices. it’s a mess, but you both love it for different reasons. his dick stands tall and proud, swollen and wet around the tip. 
he starts to fuck his own fist, thanks to you, he doesn’t even got to spit on it anymore. his dick is wet plenty. he watches your lustful eyes crave for it, practically foaming at the mouth for it. though you are still gasping for air, you wish he would just fuck it out of you again. you want him so so so bad. 
your hands try to reach up at him, but he slaps them away, he isn’t rough and it doesn’t really hurt, but the warning is enough for you to drop them back down. your hands start to rub against your bare thighs, iching to release your own arousal. 
“baby’s horny?” it’s like he’s teasing you, almost laughing in your face, his cock is so close to your face you can still taste it. 
you instantly nod though with hopes that he’ll help you out. 
“yeah? you need daddy’s cock inside you?” hoseok taps his cock against your cheek, pre-cum smearing onto it. it’s cruel the way he toys with his food, but what can he do when you react so beautifully to it. you’re just too easy. 
“yes. plu-please.” you whine. 
“yes what.” he barks.
“yes d-daddy. i want it so bad.” 
you hear him hum pleased, as he continues to jack himself off, he’s getting close and you know it, because his eyes start to hood and he’s breathing heavier. all the more of a reason you wish he would just shove it in you, your pussy is dripping wet for it. if only he were to see himself, he would never stop fucking you!
“stand up.” he orders.
fucking finally.
with wobbly legs you stand and he rough pulls down your shorts. a hand still heavy on his cock, gripping the fuck out of it. 
“let me see inside those pretty panties.” 
hoseok wastes no time to nut his seed all over the inside of it, covering your bare cunt with his juices and dripping all over the fabric. you both look down as his cum decorates the inside of your panties so beautifully, both panting at the sight. “stay there.” 
the taller tugs his pants back up and grabs his phone. he pulls you in for a sudden quick kiss before he takes a picture of the mess he made. “such a perfect sub.” 
with another kiss, he puts his phone away and grabs your wrists, tugging your hands off your panties. your panties sit back so prettily and wet against your pussy now. they are sticky and it feels pretty gross against your skin, but you start to forget about it when you feel hoseok’s tongue down your throat. 
he finally pulls away with one final kiss, pulling your shorts back on. “go back to bed baby.”
“but ‘m not tired.” you mumble, still horny as ever. cunt begging for cock. anything. 
“don’t pout angel. it won’t get you anywhere. i’ll be back later. behave.” and with that, hoseok leaves to work (or so he says), leaving you wet and lonely. 
to no surprise, hoseok in fact does not make it to dinner. to your surprise, he’s kind enough to leave you a sweet text message instead though. 
daddy: [attached image] miss that perfect pussy. you’re so beautiful you know that?
me: you missed dinner
daddy: that’s no way to talk to me angel  i said no promises
me: yeah well, i’ll just have dinner with a friend instead ig
daddy: who? 
me: wouldn’t you love to know.
daddy: you know i’ll find out anyways?  like you could hide anything from me
me: you’re an ass
daddy: you are what you eat
you don’t bother to reply nor entertain his not so funny jokes, but your phone buzzes again to absolutely no surprise. however the following message makes your heart fall straight out of your ass. 
daddy: i’m sorry angel.  i promise to be home for dinner tomorrow. is that better? 
the pit of your stomach burns, really it’s the bare fucking minimum, but you can’t help the way it flips into butterflies. a smile forming on your face. 
me: yes daddy
daddy: good girl the very best
a few minutes pass as you entertain yourself on some random game on your phone before he messages again.
daddy: if you even think of actually going out with a friend i’ll chop their dick off. 
me: who said it would be a man? 
daddy: have fun then baby don't stay out too late! 
hoseok’s messages make you giggle so hard. sometimes you forget this is the person you are with, the one you share every little moment with, and the one that would absolutely kill you despite your entire past with him for thinking about someone else. someone younger, bit buffer, close to them. the person they’ve always known all their life. and here you are contemplating doing it all over again. it’s scary how thrilling it all feels. a pawn in your own game and you don’t even know it. 
luckily for you and unfortunately for hoseok, there’s no dinner and especially no friend, but there is jungkook. he’s home again, earlier than everyone, as expected. 
the younger follows the same routine he has as soon as he gets home. he immediately hops into a quick shower and doesn’t come out to eat till way later. busying himself with who knows what. 
jungkook is a bit awkward, more nervous, and careful around you since the whole movie situation, the one where your tits were out by the end of it while he was driving holes into them with his eyes. 
it makes you a bit frustrated. at this point, you're begging for attention and he hardly budges, but you also understand his fear. 
“that was good noona, thanks.” jungkook picks up his plate, rushing to wash it off and lock himself back in his room. 
you hardly ever make dinner like that, but you figured it would be a great way to pass time and an excuse to get off your ass and do something that doesn’t involve rotting away in bed, lonely and horny. and all very much alone. this way, you don’t have to be alone. this way, jungkook fills the empty spot and he doesn’t even know it. 
jungkook is quick in the kitchen and you hate it. you obviously weren’t gonna let this happen, not under these circumstances, and not in this way. not after everything. “jungkookie, can you do me a favor?” 
“s-sure.” his hands are wet from the sink as he places the plate down, eyes hesitant to look up. 
“it’s just, i just got my period and my stomach hurts. a lot.” a hand caresses your tummy lightly, putting pressure where it hurts. thankful that your period arrived after this eventful/uneventful morning. 
“oh… im sorry. can i help?” he asks to be nice, not denying you a damn thing. 
“can you massage it?” you plead without shame.
“me-e?” he stutters, pointing at himself, flushing pink.
“mhm, who else silly!” 
jungkook awkwardly laughs. “yeah okay. lay down noona, i’ll try to make things better.” 
with that your back goes on the couch while you look up at him with sweet eyes. “thank you jungkookie, it feels much better when someone else is doing it.” 
“yeah, of course.” he lamely replies. 
very carefully, you slide your shirt up, revealing much more skin than intended (not really though). the mounds of your breasts sit so pretty like this and it leaves nothing to his imagination. your underboob peaks through and jungkook holds back a sharp gasp.
he refocuses on his mission, hands shaking as he brings them closer. “m gonna touch you now noona.”
though it wasn’t his intention, his suggestive usage of wording nearly makes you moan. you bite your lip to prevent it. 
“please.” you whisper calmly, desperately. 
jungkook nods and cold hands touch your tummy. they are a bit stiff at first because he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he starts getting a hang of it when he hears you lightly hum pleasantly. 
he explores your skin, with every noise you make filtering his ear he finds what you enjoy and don’t. he rubs feather-like circles against your soft skin, thumbing over curves and your plushy stomach. you feel so warm in his hands and that makes him feel so good, too good. and the fact that he’s never ever done this before. jungkook thinks it's possible he can cum in his pants, just by doing this alone! he’s really, really lame. 
“feels so good, jungkookie.”
“yeah…” he strains, hands heavier on your stomach, but they warm up feeling so nicely against your skin. 
“can you- lower, can you go lower?” 
his hands are barely above, around your belly button, avoiding anything further down, not sure if it is for his own sake or yours. he’s scared and it’s obvious by the lack of movement. 
jungkook avoids your eyes as his hands freeze, hands weighing down on where he was last massaging. “wan— want me lower?”
“yes.” surely he knows what you mean. “please.” 
“oh- okay.” the younger says nothing more. 
jungkook resumes his movements, his hands going much further down your stomach, just right above your waistband. he thumbs your underwear, trying very hard to hold his breath whenever his fingertips come in contact with the thin yellow fabric whilst still rubbing patterns into your lower belly. he’s hoping you don’t hear how heavy and much faster his breathing has gotten. he’s struggling for air, face beet red. not sure if it’s out of embarrassment or his own humiliation driving him nuts. 
he’s not sure what he’s doing anymore. or what has gotten into him. it’s like his dream is set right before his eyes and yet he knows he really shouldn’t be here and doing this. much less with someone like you, but for whatever reason he can’t stop. 
“f-feels better?” jungkook asks, light-airy voice. 
“much, much better.” you reply truthfully, your stomach buzzing warmly. your eyes take in every movement on his face. from his eyes to his nose, to the way his cheeks puff as he breathes. he’s beautiful. much more when you have him this close, and nothing is stopping you from what you do next. 
jungkook’s breath hitches when he feels your soft lips on his cheek. eyes nearly bulging out his sockets because he doesn’t believe his reality. this just can’t be. no one has ever shown this much interest in him. especially not someone as untouchable as you.
it lasts no longer than ten seconds, but jungkook turns into jelly within that time. you aren’t sure why you do it, but it’s the only reasonable way you could possibly come up with to show your appreciation for all he’s done. for being sweet and patient. he’s too generous for his own good. 
“thank you jungkookie, you’re so sweet.” he doesn’t even realize you’ve already pulled away and his hands are no longer feeling your heated flesh until he’s watching you walk away, hiding behind the door to your room. hoseok’s room. yours and hoseok’s room. he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but he can’t help the way his stomach twists in knots. 
jungkook is left completely speechless, confused. 
he shamefully walks back to his own room with no other word, skipping his night routine completely. fuck skincare, he can go a night without it. he’ll manage. 
that night, hoseok arrives fairly early. well at least, earlier than usual. you’re still awake when you feel his hand on your hip, feeling his lips pecking the tip of your ear. 
“you’re home?” 
“yeah, got off a bit earlier than expected. did you eat?” he asks quietly, thoughtful enough to not disturb others. hoseok’s lips still softly kissing behind your ear, practically making you melt into the bed. if you could purr, you are more than sure you’d start purring right about now. hoseok has always been very hands-on, it’s what you adore about him. always making it known how much he wants and needs you. 
“i did. have you?” you ask to be polite, though you most likely already know the answer. hoseok may be busy, but he never skips his meals. his discipline is insane. he’s busy, but not ever enough to starve himself. he cares about his mental and physical being just as much as everything else. and he plans on keeping it that way for as long as he lives. 
“yeah. they brought take-out from that one place in downtown you like.” 
that calls for your slightest attention, shifting your face from your pillow to face him, even in the dark your eyes find his. “zuki’s?”
“mhm.” hoseok steals a kiss like this, sharing a breath as he continues. “that very one.”
“lucky.” you pout, sadly with cramps still lingering around your pelvic area. 
“yeah… i brought you some.” he says so nonchalantly. 
the older laughs when he feels you shove yourself, full force onto him, hugging him with all your might. “really?!”
“yes, left it in the fridge for tomorrow.” hoseok pauses, fingers tangled in your blow dried hair and breathes in your sweet fresh scent. “unless you wanna eat a late night meal then be my guest.” 
“well, i just got my period so...” you contemplate that damn meal, almost sorta justifying your not-so-healthy options.
“then let’s go. i’ll sit with you while you eat.” your boyfriend decides for you instead, tugging you up very gently without another word. 
there’s was nothing more to say or decide, hoseok watched as you ate the meal very pleasantly, humming here and there, devouring it all in minutes. you were a very happy, happy girl. and hoseok was a happy man watching you eat so easily. he’d do it all over again if it meant he could see that perfect smile all the time. 
and like that, you forget all about today and what made you upset. you are so stupid to think he could ever not love you and care for you. who else than him. even if you have heavily committed your mistakes, so has he, but he loves you, and nothing else matters. 
but then again, in another room, jungkook is tearing himself up for it. even though, he’s not really at fault. is he? it sure feels like it is anyways. 
at least, it felt that way after beating his cock raw and swollen. flashbacks from earlier crowding his virgin-mind. he’s so so fucked, it’s laughable. pathetic really.
jungkook tries so hard to ignore it and at first he succeeds, but then he hears a bubble of laughter coming from the room beside him and he knows he’s been beaten once again. 
“i love you.” 
“i love you too baby.” 
that’s the last thing jungkook hears before he falls into a deep sleep, eventually succumbing to his exhaustion and overthinking mess. the crowding anxious thoughts die for the first time that night.
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levilaughlove · 3 days
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☁️► Heads up : M x m romance, cheating/disloyalty, mentions of emotional abuse, manipulation & gaslighting. Reader is taller than Levi by 3 in. Mentions of mental breakdowns & indecent language & ofc, smut.🗞 > Chapter 1 .
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""Is this really how low you think of me?", Is what she asked me, Levi, am I the issue?" Your broken voice explains the situation to your longtime best friend, Levi Ackerman.
"I know I shouldn't have came to her like that..I should've been softer." You continued, only lower this time. "You did what you felt was right." Levi finally says. "How much kinder can you be to that self-absorbed bitch? She's drained all of your energy." He adds, hyperfocusing on your sleep-deprived eyes.
"If I showed you photos of what you looked like before you met her, you'd be astonished." He snarls.
"I know you're upset with her but, she is my wife." You defend. "Your wife or your disease?" You chuckle at his snappy remark.
The two of you sit in comfortable silence until your phone begins to vibrate. The device lights up revealing an incoming call. Levi sighs at the name on screen.
"How fucking convenient..." Levi murmurs. You gaze at him pleadingly & he whisps his hand through the air as a sign to answer it. You pick up the phone & accept the call.
"Hello?" You ask.
A muffled female voice could be heard from the other line. She doesn't sound too happy.
Levi's gray eyes glare at the phone ,then, rolls his eyes and falls back onto the bed. "A-alright, (f/n), I'll be home soon. Bye-bye." You quickly end the call.
"What did it say?" Levi asks unenthusiastically. "It? Levi, I know you don't like her but, please..." "I don't care, that's how she treats you, what makes her any better?" He quickly adds. You couldn't argue that.
Levi stares at you with an unexplainable expression in his eyes. "Before you think about going off anywhere, at least eat. She can wait 30 minutes." He says, arising from the bed & leaving the room. You follow quickly behind.
"I've got lots of options, mozzy sticks, mac & cheese, I can make you an egg & bacon sandwich.." He continues. "Egg & bacon sounds nice..." You accept shyly. Levi hums & begins to get the items.
While you waited, you began to think. You were so grateful that Levi still takes care of you, even after all these years. You reminisce on your favorite memory of him. It was bittersweet ,but the love & care you had for one another was evident. You were 4, Levi was 7 & he was moving far from your shared hometown. You were his closest friend & he was yours. On the bridge could be seen young you clinging onto Levi tightly with tears in your innocent eyes. Levi tried to keep a stone face even then but couldn't help how his heart felt.
" I'll be back, this isn't forever...pea. Stop crying.." Levi's voice shakes and he hold yours small body, hesitant to let go. "Why...please stay, I need you here.." Your tears kept flowing down your full cheeks, eyes loosely closed. A woman's voice called for Levi to hurry up. "I gotta go now, kay'?" Levi quickly wipes his tears, giving another attempt at a stone face. "Bye." "Goodbye, pea."
Just the thought of it makes you choked up but it doesn't just have a sad tinge anymore, but an innocent, admirable one. You wonder if Levi remembers that.
"Earth to M/n." Levi says loudly. "Hm? Yeah..." You look down to see Levi had finished making the food. Levi looks concerned for a second before returning back to his ordinary expression. You ended up staying much longer than anticipated. You knew your wife would raise hell once you were home.
"Fuck, it's been 2 hours..." You exclaimed worriedly. "If anything goes down, you could always come to me." Levi says trying to relax you.
You give him a thankful gaze before heading to the front door. Looking back once, you wave to Levi, which he nods to.
.
.
You cautiously open the front door to your house.
Your wife is sat on the couch, already meeting eyes with you. She looks furious. "I called you at 2:00 & you're only just getting home at 4!?" She screams then bolts over to you, trying to force intimidation. "Who are you fucking, huh?" She screams again.
"I was at a friend's...(f/n)." You slightly dismiss her and wander off to your shared bedroom, undressing yourself as she follows closely behind.
"So why the fuck couldn't you say so? You need to respect me more! Do you know that at any moment I could fuck you over!? WHO DO YOU THINK THEY'LL BELIEVE?! Me!" She lashes out snatching your phone from your hand, shattering it onto the wooden floor below.
You went into a state of shock, your eyes hyperfocused on her enraged person, everything that wasn't here seemed to look like static. You began to get dizzy. You held your head as you almost lost your footing. Levi, you need Levi. You can't breathe.
You shove past her, she falls to the ground forcefully. You just want to go. You need comfort, why is she like this? This wasn't who she was when you first met her! The rain is heavy outside as you push past the front door and onto the sidewalk, cars rush past you, adding to your anxiety. Your breathing gets heavier and heavier. It's hard to see due to the rain, you're uncomfortable & soaked. The rain wasn't the only thing dampening your face, but your heavy, warm tears.
Finally, the familiar door number 255 came into sight. You banged as hard as you could on the door. Crashes of lightning roar through the sky.
Levi opens the door & your soaked body immediately crashes onto his. He understood without words. You hyperventalate & try to explain but he hushes you, he already knows. Your eyes red & teary holding onto Levi tight, & likewise him to you.
Everything began to fade to nothing.
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theladybarnes · 2 days
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CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER SEVEN
“What if I'm not good? What if I'm the monster?”
▸ summary: things get messy between the group and you feel as if you’re out of luck (&time) ▸ characters: steve harrington, eddie munson,dustin henderson, robin buckley, max mayfield, & nancy wheeler ▸ word count: 10k ▸ warnings: angst, semi-fluff, mentions of death, slight canon divergence ▸ series masterlist
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“I guess the old man taught me well, huh?”
 The sudden weight of falling down into the cold street hit you harder than you expected. Forcing you to reach out and grip onto the blue car behind you. Wait, you know this car. 
 “What?..” you whispered, taking a step back. It was Billy’s blue Camaro, still warm from being recently used. But you weren’t anywhere near his car– Your thoughts are cut off when you suddenly take in your dim reflection from the car window. 
 The entirety of your right eye was black and teary. Instead of being trapped in the mall again, you’re suddenly back from having just left the tunnels that had run beneath Hawkins. But if you're by Billy’s car then..
 Turning around, you nearly gasped at the sight of Billy. He’s healthier than the last time you saw him. No Flayer tentacles stuck in his chest. No dead look in his eyes. He was back to the regular asshole you knew before. The sight of his former appearance has you taken back. 
 “Billy..” you croaked, unsure what to say. “I-...”
 “She’s speechless.” Billy laughed, taking a step towards you. “What a nice change.”
 Every part of you is aware that this isn’t real, but seeing him before you is leaving your mind puzzled. “You should go inside, Billy.” you got out eventually, gesturing toward his home, but the moment you glanced over, you noticed it was gone. The land stripped down to just the gutted floor of the house. Only the lawn had been laid intact. 
 “I don’t have a home anymore. I don’t have anything.” he said slowly, voice dark as he inched closer. You tried to step back, but something about his tone had your feet frozen in place. He took the chance to stand behind you now, wrapping his arms around you in order to pull you close. 
 He was ice cold.
 “All because of you..” he said into your ear, tickling your skin with his cold breath. 
 “I didn’t..I didn’t do anything to you, Billy.”
 “Exactly,” he agreed. “You didn’t help me..you didn’t save me. You let me die, you let the flayer get me.” 
 His grip got tighter, causing you to wince out in pain. You had to get out of this. “Let me go.” you said calmly despite the chill that was now coming up your spine. “Billy, let me GO.”
 “It’s sad when you consider what’s happened,” he continued on, pressing his face against the side of yours. “Billy said that he loved you, tried to get back together with you, and you left him in the dust for a guy that wouldn’t even consider leaving town for you.” 
 There were so many alarms going off in your head but you couldn’t help but focus on one in particular. 
 “Billy? You mean yourself, right?” you asked, trying to turn your face to look at him. But he simply reached one of his cold arms up to pinch at your cheeks, forcing you to look at the empty lot in front of you. 
 “No one is ever going to pick you, you know? At the end of the day it’ll always be someone better, someone worth sticking around you. There’s no happy ending for you.” His lips ghosted around the base of your neck before he chuckled lightly against you. “No happy ending for us..”
 You shook your head, trying to get his daunting words out of your head. “I’m nothing like you..”
 That only made him even more amused, raising a laugh out of his chest. “We’re a lot alike, actually.” he hummed, “We use people for pleasure and toss them aside when they decide to go against what we want.”
 “I don’t do that.” you said, turning around enough to face him. He looked at you with a smirk before he pinched at your cheek. “I would never do that to anyone.” you added, swatting his hand away.
 “So you didn’t dump Steve for saying no to the big move?” he gasped, feigning shock. “Or better yet, you’re not ditching your poor Eddie after he left you alone to wander the forest? I mean, you didn’t even bother to let him speak. He’s probably beating himself up but you don’t care. Not when Stevie is giving you the ol’ love and attention you need. Which, let’s be honest, babydoll, is pretty shitty of you to use him for a quick fuck instead of talking things out. Thought that’s the sort of shit girls like to do.”
 His words cut through you like knives, dredging up thoughts you tried to bury deep down. But then, something shifted. Billy mentioned Eddie, someone he couldn't possibly have known about. Their paths never crossed once if you thought hard about it. 
 "You don't know Eddie," you said slowly, voice struggling between sounding calm and trembling. "How could you possibly know what I’ve done with him if you’re dead..”
 A sinister smile twisted Billy's lips as his grip tightened, sending searing pain coursing through your body. "He’s been watching you," he confessed, his voice dripping with malice. "And boy does he have plans for all of you..”
 The world around you began to fall apart. The dark sky falling apart like fabric unraveling to reveal a dark crimson sky. The distance etched with bursts of lightning to light up a world in an ominous glow. 
 “This isn’t happening..” you promised yourself, eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to convince yourself that this was just a dream, that none of it was real.
 “Oh babydoll, did you still think this was just a dream?” (tick)
 The arms around you felt different, and you opened your eyes in time to see Billy back to looking like the night of mall fire. His eyes glistened with tears and smile oozed with the dark bloody liquid that seeped from all over his wounds. 
 “Time for a wake up call.” (tock)
 Before you could react, he shoved you with a force that sent you crashing to the ground. Landing hard on the unforgiving concrete that shot your body in instant pain. Just as you began to process what had just happened, a deafening roar filled the air.
 To your right, the blinding headlights of an oncoming car came into your vision, hurtling toward you at a terrifying speed. You barely managed to get your hands up to cover your face right as it was about to hit you.
 And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, you woke up.
 Gasping for air, you sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing with adrenaline. Sweat soaked your skin, and a sense of lingering dread clung onto you like a heavy cloak. The warm glowing light of the sun peeked through your curtains. Nothing like the red haunting sky that was in your dream. New day, new nightmare. You thought.
 “Hey, are you awake?” 
 Dustin burst into the room, nearly sending you back into panic mode as you scrambled to get out of the bed. Defensive position ready for the attack. The younger boy held onto the door knob in shock, holding a hand out too in case you were about to strike him.
 “Whoa,” he chuckled nervously, looking at you carefully. “You okay? You’re all sweaty.” 
 You licked over your lips, pushing back the hair away from your face. “I’m fine.” you nodded, trying to calm yourself down. “Just got spooked.”
 “Right,” he said slowly, skeptically, even. “Well, Steve called. Said he was going to head over here if you wanna shower or something before leaving.”
 Turning away from your cousin, you tried to gain some sort of control over yourself as you trudged over to your dresser. Picking out some clothes you could change into after your shower. But from behind you could feel Dustin lingering at the door, a familiar worry still in the air.
 “I’m fine, Dustin.” you said, before he could ask. You focused on the clothes before you gathered for your shower. “It was just a bad sleep.” 
 “You sure? Because..we’d all get if it you needed a day to jump back into–”
 “I said I’m fine!” you snapped, turning around finally. The glare on your face is enough to have him take a step back. As if your words were a slap to his face. Guilt quickly filled into your gut and you rubbed a hand over your tired face. “I’m sorry I’m just tired.”
 “I get it.” he cleared his throat, “I’ll be in the living room.”
 Without another word, he turned on his heels and made his exit. Not two minutes into the day and you were already messing things up again. 
 “Time for a wake up call.” 
 You shuddered at the words that repeated in your head and quickly left the room. Hoping for the shower to wash away the remnants of your latest nightmare and give you a chance to start the day fresh.
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 The car ride to the supermarket was spent mostly with Dustin yammering to Steve about the plans for today while you sat quietly in the back. The nightmare that pulled you out of your sleep still left you frazzled. Even with the help of a hot shower that tried to wash away the haunting memory. So while Steve kept checking over you now and then, you managed to keep to yourself until you guys arrived at the market. 
 Instantly Dustin wandered off in search of snacks for Eddie once inside. Leaving you and Steve to navigate the supermarket aisles together as a small awkward tension lingered in the air. You focused on gathering supplies, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of what would be enough to last Eddie for the unforeseeable future. 
 "Hey," Steve's voice broke through the silence, causing you to glance up from the decorated can of the Smurf’s Beef Ravioli you were inspecting. His curious gaze met yours, and you couldn't help but notice the worry etched into his features.
 "You look exhausted," he remarked softly, his tone filled with genuine concern.
 You wanted to sigh. 
 Of course Steve would be the first one today to distinctly look past all the makeup you expertly applied this morning to notice the exhaustion you were feeling. After the harsh nightmare, the bags in your eyes seemed to take a permanent residence. Offering a weary smile, you attempted to brush past his observation in order to change the mood. “Is that your subtle way of saying I look terrible?” 
 His eyes widened, worried for a second that you were being serious. “Of course not!” he scoffed, moving closer to you. “You’re gorgeous..but I can tell you look exhausted.” 
 You watched him carefully, waiting to see if he’d crack from the line of questioning, but when he tilted his head at you, keeping a worried gaze, you let out the withheld sigh, giving in a little bit. “I had a pretty harsh nightmare, don’t think I really slept well the whole night.”
 The palm of his hand met your cheek gently. Thumb rubbing against the soft skin before he reached over to push a piece of hair away from your face. "That bad, huh?" he murmured, looking at your features. "Why don't you let me stay over tonight? Just a friendly sleepover. You can wake me up if things get too intense."
 You couldn't help but chuckle at his offer. Recalling the past summer filled with nights of him on the pretense of just sleeping. "A sleepover, really? With just the two of us?"
 He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's not like it's the first time I've slept over at your place."
 You raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a teasing grin from tugging on your face. “Well, if I recall correctly, we didn’t really sleep at those either.”
 A faint blush crept up Steve's cheeks, and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Okay, fair point," he admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice. "But seriously, I just want to help. You don't have to go through this alone."
 It would be so easy to say yes. Give in to that natural urge that always wanted the company of the man before you. To have him by your side and give you all the attention and care you know he would willingly give to you. But your nightmare played in your mind again and you couldn’t help but feel the familiar twist of guilt form in your stomach again. 
 You opened your mouth to decline the offer when a case of YooHoos was placed quickly into the cart. An out of breath Dustin wiped over the sweat from his forehead, looking between the two of you expectantly. “It’s almost ten and we still have to pick up the others. Let’s go.” 
 Steve looked over still waiting on an answer from you but all you could do is offer a meek smile. “All right,” you nodded to Dustin. “Let’s head out.” Without looking back, you made your way towards the registers. Stomach twisting more than ever now.
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 Thankfully picking up Robin and Max turned out to be quicker than expected. Max had taken the bus to the other girl’s house, making the trips cut down less after Dustin explained you’d also have to make a stop at the hilltop to use his Cerebro. And after some unsettling updates from the Hawkins police department, you all were able to finally make the drive over to the Lipton boat house.
 A part of you was slightly nervous to face Eddie again after yesterday. You never really felt the best after chewing out people you cared about. But add the hurt from the day before, plus the predicament with Steve, and the newest bit of information, your body was slowly aching in all sorts of places as you tried to navigate each feeling.
 “The streets should be busy today, most of Hawkins are probably over their hangovers from  Friday and have to go back to shopping for the week. We’ll have time to look for clues around the trailer later.” you heard Dustin say to everyone as he and Max took the lead towards the boat house. 
 “God,” you said suddenly, stopping in place. The days quickly calculated in your mind and you couldn’t help but feel another worry. Robin and Steve both turned at your voice, looking at you curiously before you wiped your hands over your face. “I was supposed to work with Keith today..”
 The two of them looked at each other for a second before letting out amused chuckles. 
 “What’s so funny?” you frowned.
 “Honey, Robin and I closed up the store at seven o’clock last night so we could all go find Eddie.” Steve cleared up.
 “Not to mention Steve was gone a whole hour before that to go find you.” she snorted, trudging over with the groceries still in hand as she draped an arm over your shoulder. “We’re totally fired.”
 “Fired?” you gaped, slightly worried by how easily over it they seemed to be. “B-but you guys needed the jobs!”
 “There’s thousands of other part time jobs in Hawkins, kid.” Robin sighed, giving you a tight lipped smile. “We’ll just have to update our resumes..again.”
 She left with that, leaving the two of you behind to join the others down the hill. Glancing at Steve, you opened your mouth, ready to apologize about his likely termination, but he quickly leaned over to press a finger to your lips.
 “Don’t even think about apologizing.” he said sternly. “Because no one in the whole world could have stopped me from leaving. Not when it comes to you.”
 Again, you’re left speechless by the man before you. 
 There couldn’t be any proper explanation as to why Steve continuously gave you more than you deserved. Not one that you would believe in anyway. You’ve hurt him, pushed him, and left him with no reason to do things for you. And off he’d go, ditching his life’s responsibilities just to look out for your well being. 
 It’s all so overwhelming and you find you’re stumped enough that it’s taking a second longer to think of a reply.
 “Trouble..” he said after a second of your silence. 
 You quickly scrambled together a response good enough to divert the seriousness that he seemed to be leading things to lately. Something you know he’ll grow tired of eventually and confront you about. But for now, you’d stick with easing the already harsh day as best as you could.
 “I was just going to say I’m glad we won’t have to wear that vest anymore.”
 “Right.” he said, sucking in a sharp breath. Then suddenly, he leaned over enough that he could look at your face closely. “Are you..okay?” 
Okay seemed to be the last word you’d use to describe yourself. Especially after this morning’s nightmare. But considering the man lost his job to help you out the last time, you figure you should cut this worrisome question short. 
“I have a lot on my mind.” You shrugged. “Just..girl problems.”
His brows were knitted tightly together, skeptical of your response. But before he could throw in a follow up question, the sound of Robin calling out to you guys put a stop to that.  
“We should go..” he said eventually.
 Not wanting to lag behind any longer, you dashed down the hill to the others, catching a glance back to see Steve rub at his face until he remembered to follow after you. The two of you joined just in time to open the door into the boat house. 
 There’s a slightly yelp sound and the five of you watched as a frightened Eddie looked over at the doorway with wide eyes. Apparently he didn’t notice or hear any of you approaching at all. 
 “Delivery service!” Dustin exclaimed, a wide grin on his face as he lifted up the grocery bags. 
 Apparently, you weren’t the only one whose morning was off to a rough start.
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  The five of you gathered around Eddie, giving him a few minutes to calm down. But that calmness quickly left the moment Dustin gave him the box of Honeycomb. All there was after that was the crazy amount of crunching as Eddie stuffed as many as he could into his mouth. 
 “So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news.” Dustin started hesitantly. “How do you prefer it?”
 “Bad news first, always.” Eddie said as if there’d be any other way.
 “All right, bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.” he said before blinking hard, forgetting the last important fact. “Also, they’re, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.”
 “Like, one hundred percent kind of convinced.” Max said next, looking at him solemnly.
 “And the good news?” Eddie asked, perplexed. 
 Robin looked down at him with a familiar gaze to Max’s as she spoke up next. “Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, it’s a matter of time before others do too. And once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning out for you.”
 You can’t help but feel worse hearing everyone lay out the information than from the dispatch. From where you stood behind Dustin, you could see as Eddie’s face paled at the truth. 
 “Hunt the freak, right?”
 “Exactly.” Robin confirmed.
 The memory of the crash came to mind from his words. Freak of the town. Now it was going to be a man hunt with him as the prey. Dustin before you held a hand out, piping in with what he figured would be words of encouragement. 
 “So, before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”
 “That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” 
 “Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.”
 You can’t help but snort at Dustin’s reply. Feeling the pessimism seeping into your mood. There were too many variables to this idea that made it almost impossible to complete. And while you didn’t want to join in on adding salt to Eddie’s wounds, you couldn’t help but shake your head.
 “And after all this we’ll have you back home in time for dinner.” you said offhandedly, keeping your eyes down at your nails. Steve and Dustin turned their gazes over their shoulders to look over at you questionably, making you sheepishly wave them off as you stepped closer towards the group. 
 “Listen, Eddie,” piped Robin as she attempted to lift up his spirits. “I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before. I mean, they have a..a few times,” she said gesturing to the three of you. Steve confirmed her words with a reassuring nod as she went on. “And..and I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based, and theirs was more smoke-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.” 
 “Yeah, see, we usually rely on this girl who has super powers. But, uh, those went bye-bye, so uh..” Steve said quickly, adding a true fact that you felt didn’t really help much considering El wasn’t even in town in the first place. 
 “So, we’re technically in more of the–” Robin volleyed in.
 “Kinda..”
 “Brainstorming phase.” Max finished, seeming to conclude where Robin and Steve were going with their words.
 “There..There’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin spluttered, attempting to bring the group in together. 
 Eddie was rightfully stunned at everyone, tilting his head in shock as he stared at his friend in disbelief. But he’s soon after glancing over to you finally. Looking for what you had to say. In fact, everyone glanced over at you, almost waiting for you to say otherwise.
 And while you parents always said they admired your candor, not everyone around you reacted the best to it. 
 So, you shot him a small tight lipped smile, nodding your head to everyone. “We’re gonna help you, Ed.” you said honestly. “Just..hopefully without any more..complications.” 
 As if the universe was waiting for their cue, the sounds of sirens cut through the silence of the group. Grabbing all the attention off of you as everyone quickly reacted to the new possible threat. 
 “Tarp.” Robin pointed out. “Tarp!” 
 Eddie quickly concealed himself underneath the fabric while the rest of you dashed over to the windows. Peering out through the dirty glass in time to watch as police cars and ambulances zipped past the front of the house. 
 “Where the hell are they going?” you heard Dustin mutter under his breath. His gaze shifted up to you curiously. 
 “I don’t know, but we need to go find out.”
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As the group dispersed from the boat house, you felt a hand gently grab at your arm, halting your exit. Turning around, you found Eddie out from the safety of his tarp. Looking at you with remorse in his eyes. You could practically feel how nervous he was. 
 "Hey," he began softly, "I need to talk to you for a sec."
 Sensing where this conversation was going to go, you almost wanted to reject him. You weren’t sure how many tense conversations you could handle for the day. But seeing as you weren’t certain of when you’d actually see Eddie again, you nodded your head and stayed in place.
 "I wanted to apologize," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "For that shit back at the van, the woods, all of it. I know it was messed up,..I never meant for any of that to happen."
 His words stirred conflicting emotions within you. Anger, frustration, but also a bit of understanding. 
 At this point, you knew Eddie. He was the same guy who’d get annoyed with your lectures about his fashion taste, or who’d try and kiss you whenever you had a bad day at work, and who would bring out that ridiculous Mick Jagger impression that made you laugh before the first bell rang. He was impulsive, but never malicious. 
 Still, the wounds still lingered inside of you. 
 "I was terrified, Eddie," you admitted, voice barely rising above a whisper despite the anger behind it. "Being lost in those woods...I had no idea where I was going or what was around me. I just saw Chrissy die and woke up to a world of mess."
 His expression softened, and you could see the heavy remorse returned back to his features. "I'm so sorry, Princess.” he croaked, hands reached out to grip onto your arms. “I promise I'll make it up to you, however I can. I won't let you down again."
 You pushed away remaining doubt that wanted to linger behind. Wanting to believe that there were still ways to turn things around. At least in terms of your friendship with Eddie. He was there for you through your shitty moments, it was time you took your turn in being there for him. 
 In this case, his moment being a murder case. 
 “Well, let’s make a habit out of not ditching each other in the woods then.” you said finally. 
 He snorted excitedly, chuckling a bit at your reaction before he pulled you in a tight hug that had you patting his back just to calm him down. “Sounds reasonable to me.” 
 “Good.” you laughed, giving him a final pat to release you out of his tight hold. “Uhh, Eddie? Kinda need to go work on saving your ass now.” 
 “Sorry,” he muttered, loosening up his grip. “I was just kinda worried we’d stop being friends..”
 You pulled back to look up at him, searching his eyes for a moment before you nodded your head. “We’re still friends..”
 “Good, because now that we’re square again, I really gotta say, you look like shit.” 
 “What is it with you guys today? I mean, I am tired, but seriously what the fu–” your words are cut off when Eddie leaned in to press his lips against yours. It wasn’t the most unusual reaction from him. There had been many times he’d say something to annoy you and cut off your anger with a sloppy kiss. But at the current time you couldn’t help but think about the last kiss you had from a freakout. And many other things you did with the man who gave it to you.
 "Eddie, I..." you trailed off, unable to find the right words to explain the complexity of problems you had going on. Especially the ones in your love life.
 He quickly retreated, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
 Suddenly, a throat cleared from behind, cutting into the moment. Instantly your heart plummeted as you turned to see Steve standing under the threshold of the door. Expression unreadable. How much did he see? How much did he hear?
 "We’re ready to go," he stated curtly, avoiding your gaze. “If you two are done.”
 Without waiting for you to reply, he quickly turned and left the doorway to join the others back up where the car was. You let out a tired sigh, unsure how you were going to even explain anything of what he just witnessed. All you knew was this was slowly turning from a bad morning to a crappy day.
 “Did I just make things worse?” you heard Eddie chuckle behind you.
 “No, Ed, I think I did.”
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 Despite the awkwardness of your late entrance to the car, the group made it just in time to catch the location of where the cops were heading to. It was towards the main road that led over to Forest Hills.
 Everyone slowly began to murmur out curious questions as to what it could be. Chrissy’s body had already been covered, what could have happened in just a day?
 The car came to a slow stop and the group slowly made an exit out of the car. Looking around what looked like a scene of a crime. Amongst the cars surrounding the area was one that caught your attention quickly. Coroner. But before you could mention that, the sight of a brightly colored skirt caught your attention.
 Talking close to the newly appointed Sheriff Powell stood Nancy. 
 You stepped out on the road, ready to make your way over to join her when a hand tugged on your elbow. Steve, who despite still held some difference towards you since the boathouse, did not want you going forward. Only cocking his chin in the direction of the girl.
 She looked relieved to see you guys but you could tell from the furrow in her brow that she was more than upset. Looking close to crying. Still, she held up a weak hand, waving over at the group with a pained expression. 
 “Shit.” you heard Max whisper. She pointed over towards the side of the road. On the floor, just past your friend, was another body, covered up in a white sheet.
 Vecna’s second victim.
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 Picking at your nails had seemed to be a new habit of yours now. Previously used to keep you busy from conversations slowly turned into you using it to distract yourself from the reality of things. Like right now, as the group gathered around one of the lunch tables just outside of Eddie’s trailer, listening to Nancy explain what the police had found, you were currently tearing at the side of your hangnail.
 Fred was gone. Just the same as Chrissy. Meaning that Dustin was right about this not being the last of Vecna’s attacks. But the idea of it being people you all knew seemed to make this whole thing more sickening.
It was eerie to be back in the trailer park. You made it a point to sit at the side of the table facing the Munson home. Needing to keep your eyes locked on the place again in case of anything odd happening. At one point you felt a hand slowly pat over at your leg, making you jump a bit before glancing to your left.
 Steve stared at you expectantly before he shook his head in confusion. “You with us?” he asked softly, voice with the familiar tinge of worry. 
 Nodding your head, you tucked your hands down into your lap, looking at the three girls across from you. 
 “So, you’re saying that this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the Upside Down?”
 “If the shoe fits,” Steve said simply before he looked at you again. “Right?”
 “Well, considering the lights blinked like usual before the attack happened. I’d say yes.”
 “Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell or a curse.” Dustin added. “Now, whether or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”
 “All we know is that this is something different.” Max joined in, a frown etched on her face as she glanced amongst everyone. “Something new.”
 “Doesn’t make sense.” Nancy muttered, shaking her head. 
 You reached over to place a hand towards her, gaining her attention to you. “Has anything about the Upside Down ever made sense?” you asked honestly, “Besides, this is still a work in progress.”
 “She’s right, it’s only a theory.” Dustin said after you. 
 “No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense.” Nancy explained, putting together something in her head. “I mean, why them?”
 “Maybe they were just in the wrong place. “ Dustin tried. “They were both at the game.”
 Max nodded her head, following the pieces coming together. “And near the trailer park.”
 “We’re at the trailer park.” Steve pointed out slowly. “Uhh, should we maybe not be here?”
 You sucked in a slow breath before leaning back to look around the area. It looked the same as when you’d come to visit Eddie. Max’s trailer was still just across the way, and the sound of wind chimes still echoed in the distance. But one glance back to the Munson trailer and you felt your stomach dip. 
“There is something about this place.” Nancy said after a second. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”
 Robin looked over at Nancy curiously.  “Acting weird as in..?”
 “Scared, on edge, upset.”
 It completely bothered you how similar you felt to that right now. But you could practically feel worried glances from some of the people at the table, so you bottled down speaking up on that in favor of hearing what Dustin had to say next.
 “Max said Chrissy was upset too.” 
 “Yeah, but not here.” she shook her head. “She was crying in the bathroom at school.”
 For a second you couldn’t help but feel a twist in your stomach at the idea of Chrissy. She was so nice in the van that night. Wanting to take the special K just to get through the night without feeling overwhelmed. But her troubles were vastly bigger than she laid out for you and you couldn’t help but feel bad for not reaching out more when you had the chance. 
 “Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” Robin asked, cutting into silence. “So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman–”
 “Vecna.” Dustin quickly corrected.
 “I don’t know about you guys but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.” Steve said. His eyes looked to you, almost like he was expecting you to agree with him. And while the logical side of you did, something deep inside was stopping you entirely from speaking out. 
 “Maybe they did.” Max considered slowly. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you..you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you. But you might go to your–”
 “Your shrink.” Robin concluded. 
 The idea of Fred and Chrissy having a connection through Ms. Kelley did little to ease your growing anxiety. Especially when you remembered that amongst the few students that happened to be stuck in her counseling sessions, was you.
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  Not wanting to waste the day, the group quickly left the bench to head over to the next destination. Hopefully Max could find her way into getting out some information about the others from Ms. Kelley. 
 You’re walking close beside Nancy when she elbowed your side, raising a brow to you before nodding towards the direction of her car. You almost wanted to ask her what she had meant when she gave you a familiar look. Quickly getting the hint that she had something else in mind, you casually turned towards the car. That is until the group’s den mother seemed to take notice.
 “Whoa, whoa, HEY! HEY!” Steve said, jogging after the two of you. “Where are you guys going?”
 “Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” she explained simply, nudging at your side quickly. 
 “I’m gonna go with her, you know Nancy Drew needs Bess Marvin and all that.” you waved, trying to make a turn for the car again.
 “Something you guys wanna share with the rest of us?” Dustin asked, slightly offended.
 “I don’t wanna waste your time. It’s a real shot in the dark.” she said shyly, kicking at the dirt for a second. You nodded your head, looking over at the rest of the group with a small smile.
 “If she’s got a hunch, it might be worth checking out guys. We’ll be back soon.” you reassured them.
 “Hey, you can’t just ditch us.” Dustin scoffed. “Besides, it’s better to keep an eye on you if you’re suddenly turned into a suspect and we need to hide you up with Eddie.”
 Max looked over at Dustin before she nodded her head, agreeing. “There’s still a chance your name could come up. If we can’t reach you then we wouldn’t be able to help you on time.”
 Something told you that there might be another reason Dustin and Max wanted you to stay and while you were sure nothing would happen while going with Nancy, you also didn’t want to make things harder on anyone. Especially with these two out of all them showing concern openly.
 “Looks like I’m with the kids.” you sighed, turning defeatedly to Nancy. “Think you’ll be okay?”
 “I’ll be an hour or two tops.” she nodded. “We’ll regroup after that.”
 “Yeah okay. Are you guys out of your mind?” Steve asked, looking at you two a little perplexed. “Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose? No, it’s too dangerous. You need..you need someone to..” His face turned hard with a sudden frustration as he looked at Nancy worriedly. Your stomach caught onto that tension quicker than your brain and twisted slightly at a growing feeling you haven’t felt in a while. Steve didn’t seem to notice as he turned to toss his keys over to Robin.
 “Here you go. I’ll stick with Nance.” he said quickly. “You guys take the car, check out the shrink.”
 The girl caught the keys awkwardly, giving Steve a confused look as she pointed over to the car. “Don’t think you want me driving your car.” she said wearily. 
 “Didn’t think he let anyone drive the car.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Last time he nearly had a heart attack and that was just driving in the streets.”
 Steve blinked over at you confused before he turned back to Robin. “Why?” he asked, ignoring your jab. 
 “I don’t have a license.”
 “Why don’t you have a license?” he asked frustratedly. 
 “I’m poor.” she reasoned with a shrug. 
 “I can drive.” Max offered, only adding fuel to Steve’s emotions. 
 “No, No! Never again. Please. Anybody but you. NO.” he argued.
 Dustin, ever with his perfect timing, looked at Steve with his arms out. As if he were ready to take on the responsibility that no one on the team could take. From behind Steve you could see as his body deflated at his choices. 
 “No chance.”
 “Come on!”
 Nancy looked a little uncomfortable at Steve’s persistence, only casting you an apologetic look. You on the other hand could not stop the familiar green monster from trying to crawl its way up from the depths of your soul. Unsure where Steve’s need to be around Nancy came from just yet. But you knew by now that it wasn’t the best idea to act on those feelings just yet.
 Finally Steve glanced back to you, raising a brow questionably. 
 Bastard.
 “Fine,” you said calmly, earning a small shock from the group. As if they expected some other reaction from you. Taking a step towards him, you held out your hand, giving Steve a sweet smile. “I’ll take your car.” 
 Steve nervously licked over his lips. Eyes shifting from your hand, then to Nancy, and then back at you. “No,” he gulped, shaking his head lightly. “I sense I made a mistake of some kind.”
 Fed up with everything, Robin reached for the walkie in Dustin’s bag and stepped in. “All right, okay. This is stupid. Us ladies will stick together.” she confirmed, putting the keys back into Steve’s hands. Her eyes gave him a warning look before she marched over to join Nancy’s side. “Unless you think we need you to protect us?” she said with a humorous chuckle.
 The two of you didn’t move from your spot. Only watching as Robin made her way towards Nancy’s car. Taking the lead for their exit. Nancy gave you both a sympathetic shrug before she mouthed an apology to you before turning on her heels to catch up with the other girl.
 “Be careful!” he called out, Robin turned around, shooting out a peace sign before she glanced at you. 
 “Should be saying that to yourself!” she laughed, giving you a wink.
 From the corner of your eye you can feel as Steve nervously looked over at you. His previous annoyance went away when he noticed your change in demeanor. Without another thought you walked towards his car, avoiding his gaze as you made your way towards the car doors. He quickly rushed over, moving to open up the passenger door for you, a small tight lip smile on his face.
 Ignoring that offer, you carefully opened up the backseat and slipped in beside Max. Avoiding his gaze as you slammed the door shut. From the outside you could hear Dustin chortle at his friend as he moved to take the free spot. “Nice one,” he said to Steve. “You just gonna stand there and gawk?”
 “Dude, shut up.”
 “Why don’t we go? Okay?” he said teasingly.
 “Shut up and get in the car.” he ordered. “Wipe your feet.”
 You watched as Dustin carelessly began to wipe his feet inside the car. Almost comically as he patted the shoe against the clean interior floor, earning another explosive reaction from Steve. 
 “On the outside, not the inside!”
 There was a bit more huffing between the two as they finally got into their seats. Leaving the car in a second of silence. Steve glanced back at you, opening his mouth to say something. But instead of giving him the chance to say anything, you turned in your seat, facing your direction to look out the window. Giving you the chance to give him a bit of the silent treatment. 
 “Always the babysitter.” Steve muttered angrily, turning on the engine of the car. “Always the GODDAMN babysitter!”
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 You watched carefully from your side of the car as Max entered inside Ms. Kelley’s home. Only looking back at you guys once before the door closed up behind her. Hopefully the whole thing wouldn’t take as long and the four of you could make your way back to others and give you space away from Steve. 
 “So..we gonna talk about..it?”
 Glancing to your right, you looked into the passenger mirror to find Dustin looking at Steve. He seemed to have purposely left his window open enough that you were able to eavesdrop into their conversation. 
 “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?” Steve asked, barely paying attention.
 “Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? And in front of my cousin of all people.”
 It took everything in you not to react to what you just heard. Your cousin’s words basically confirm the worries that hit you in the trailer park. The little green monster inside was practically dancing as it festered on the negative energy building up inside of you. 
 “Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.” Steve said defensively. 
 “Pretty sure that’s what happened.” he countered. “It was public, there were like, a lot of witnesses. The prime one being at the back of your car right now.”
 He made it a point to glance at you through the mirror, catching your glaring gaze. He looked like he was about to change things up from his expression but you quickly shook your head, nodding in the direction of Steve’s side of the car for him to continue. 
 “Uh-Are you implying I still have a thing for Nance? Really? Me?”
 “No, I’m not implying.” he said, shaking his head. “I’m stating. And, as it relates to your current break up leaving you to go on various dates, it’s pretty much the only logical explanation.”
“That’s not the only one.” Steve denied quickly. “You know what I’ve been going through. What I’ve been thinking. And as for Nance, I was just trying to protect a friend.”
 From the mirror you could see Dustin’s face turned amused, like he was beyond believing that statement in the slightest way. You let out a small sigh, glancing down at the ground almost..defeatedly.
 This wasn’t even something you had the right to be angry about. If anything, the only reason you had room to speak on the situation was the fact that Nancy was currently dating your best friend and you couldn’t just let Steve of all people step in on that.
 God, that thought alone made you feel sick.
 “A friend, Henderson. Okay?” Steve said after noticing Dustin’s silence. 
 “Okay.”
 “I don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of the front of her skull by this Vecna creep.”
 Dustin let out an amused giggle. “You’re bright red in the face right now!”
 Not having it in your stomach to listen to anything else, you stomped away from the car. Trying not to let the stinging tears in your eyes slip out. Your mind viciously shoots you into a memory from the first fall when Billy arrived. His terrorizing had slowly come to an end that night but not without some parting words to you.
 “He’ll never get over Wheeler. It’s that first love shit that chicks are so keen for. He’ll never get away from that feeling. Trust me, I’d know.”
 Back then you convinced yourself that he wasn’t telling the truth. That he took your weakness that night to try and get under your skin. But now? Now your mind is so frazzled and so broken lately that everything is turning into doubt. 
 “Get in the car.”
 You turned around to find Max rushing over to the car door, giving you a wide look before she entered inside. Quickly, you joined in after her, closing up the door in time to catch her giving Steve an order to drive. He’s quick to start up the car, setting all of you to hit against the seats as he sped away from the house.
 Eventually Max briefly explained what happened inside and stated that the best way to get more information would be in Ms. Kelley’s office at the school. You tried to explain it’d be a lot harder to break in due to the break but she simply held up a pair of office keys. 
 Suddenly the walkie in Dustin’s lap let out a loud squawk before a voice suddenly spoke through.
 “Dustin. It’s Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin.”
 The sudden sound of your friend’s voice had you and Max quickly leaning over your seats, trying to listen in on the incoming message. 
 “Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Dustin asked into the walkie. 
 “Just listen.” Lucas pleaded. “Are you guys looking for Eddie?”
 “Yeah and we found him, no thanks to you.” he chided back. 
 “You found him?”
 “He’s at a boathouse on Coal Mill Road. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”
 “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?” Lucas asked worriedly. The car seemed to grow tense at that. Now the teens at the school surely knew he was the main suspect. Time was beginning to run out. 
 “That’s bullshit. Eddie tried to save Chrissy. My cousin was there!”
 “She was there too?! Wait, then why do all the cops say he did it?”
 Max, having had enough, reached over for the walkie. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school. We’ll explain later.”
 “I..I can’t. I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”
 “What are you talking about? What bad shit?” she asked, but there was no response back. Almost as if the connection was lost. “Lucas? Lucas?” 
 “Line got cut off.” Dustin said, reaching back for the walkie. “What do you think he meant?”
 “I’m not sure.” Steve said, gripping the wheel tightly. “Let’s just get to the school.”
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  It was dark by the time the four of you arrived at Hawkins. The air held an eerie atmosphere as you guys parked discreetly in the back of the school. Couldn’t exactly have anyone checking by to see there was someone at the school this time of night.
Your cousin was thankfully prepared for the night again and quickly passed around a couple of flashlights, giving you guys some light to venture through the creepy halls with. 
 “I gotta say, didn’t think I’d be coming back here anytime soon.” Steve muttered to you, smacking at the side of his flashlight before it fully turned on. 
 “It’s definitely not the way I wanted to spend my Spring Break.” you nodded, flashing towards one of the classrooms. 
 There’s an awkward building tension between the two of you. A part of you wanted to squash down that anger from before, use it to keep focus on the problems at hand. But there was a bigger part inside that was gleefully ready to make a mess out of things. 
Per usual.
 “Didn’t think I’d spend the day like this.” he chuckled lightly, looking over at you. “Kind of a bad way to end the weekend don’t you think?”
 Something in his words, while innocent, just irked you. Making your whole body shift as you finally let free some of the venom that had been building up since the trailer park. 
 “Yeah, you must be having a pretty bad day considering you’re stuck babysitting with me instead of chumming it up with Robin or looking out for Nancy.”
 Steve looked almost as if your words were a slap to the face, staggering back a second before his expression quickly changed to annoyance. He reached a hand out to stop you from walking. 
 “Where’s that coming from?” he asked slowly.
 “Seriously?” you laughed, raising a brow at him. “Did you suddenly forget that little show you gave back in Forest Hills?” You made an effort to dramatically reenact tossing invisible car keys. “Here you go. I’ll stick with Nance.” you said in a dramatically deep voice. 
 He was unamused by that, pressing his lips together before he scratched at his hair. A nervous tick he got whenever something got under his skin. “I’m sorry I’m a little particular with who I hang out with at the moment. I figured you’d feel the same way considering you probably wanted to stick around with Eddie so you guys could make out and weirdly flirt again.” 
 Sometimes you forget that Steve’s as much of a former bitch as you were. Making his bite hurt particularly bad right now. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a verbal fight. 
 “Wow, I’m not really surprised you noticed everything I’m doing considering how you’ve been trying to figure out ways to keep me at home.” Tilting your head you step closer to look up at Steve. “Was worrying about me too much for you now that you want to display your macho-man persona to Nancy again?” 
 “You’re pulling that out of nowhere.” he scoffed, shaking his head at you. “I mean, really, how is me wanting you to stay home because I’m worried about how tired you look, suddenly turn into me trying to get back with Nancy?”
 “Oh, so now it’s suddenly trying get back with Nancy?”
 “No, you just said–”
 “I said you were showing off!” 
 He let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face before he turned to look at you seriously. “All I offered was to go with Nancy so that she wasn’t alone. Her friend just died the same way Chrissy did and I didn’t want her to end up the same way. I was just trying to be a comforting friend.”
 “So you wanted to comfort her? Well, that’s great to hear considering we both know how you like to comfort people through their crisis, don’t we?”
 “I-It was different with you, okay?” He stuttered a bit, before he held his hands up, looking annoyed again. “You’re the one who is kissing some other guy and it’s me that’s trying to get with someone?”
 “As always, you always take one part of the picture to paint the story, your highness.” you sighed, pushing a hair out of your face. “But don’t worry, I’m sure Robin will put in a good word for you with Nancy since you’re so keen on chivalry.”
 “That’s not fair. That is not what I want.” he spat. “Look, I know that you two have a thing okay? I’m not going to step in on it but that doesn’t mean I have to be nice about it either. So, quit using the friendly friendship I have with Nance to compare your beneficial one with Eddie.”
 “There isn't a thing. God, Steve.” you frowned. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Eddie kissed me. I didn’t ask him to, nor to hold me, or anything. He’s just a friend..and I pulled back.”
 “That’s not the only thing you two have done, quit acting like it’s just some innocent friendship.”
 “If you can’t seem to remember, the only person around here that I’ve willingly done anything with in the past twenty-four hours, is you, so..” you said as a matter of fact. “Also I think it’s unfair that you get mad at Eddie for kissing me but quickly go around to play the brave knight in shining white Adidas to Nance.”
 “They’re Nikes!” he countered weakly. 
 You could only scoff at him in disbelief. “This conversation isn’t going anywhere. I’m sorry I’m not the one you want to be around right now, let’s just leave things at that.” 
 Taking a step to leave him you made an effort to follow after the two kids when Steve reached forward to grip at your arm. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you around. But I know you’re not okay right now. And the more you try and push yourself in this, the more I can tell that something else is bothering you.”
 He’s staring down at you with the familiar look of worry he’s been doing these past few days. Something that would have comforted you the other day, but not with how you were feeling right now.
 “You’re right.” you said softly, reaching up to gently pat at his hand. “There is something bothering me.”
 From the tone of your voice, Steve could easily tell where this was going to go, only giving you a pleading look as he tried to diffuse the comeback you were about to give him.
 “Don’t say it’s me-
 “It’s you.”
 Without a sparing glance, you pushed out of his grip and brushed and brushed past a nosy, lingering, Dustin in order to join Max at the front of the search. Her gaze stayed ahead, looking away from you, but from the corner of your eye you could see as she shook her head. A small smirk on her lips.
 “Well that was really nice.”
 “Oh, shut up.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Like you have any room to talk about niceties.”
 “I don’t?” She asked amusedly. 
 “Well considering your on and off history with Lucas, I’d think it’s fair to say you’re just as good with dealing with exes as I am.” 
 She frowned for a moment, seeming to think it over before she shrugged. “Guess we’re both kinda messed up.” 
 A part of you wanted to argue. Say how she’s wrong and that aside from what was currently going on, you were fine. But considering the dramatic fight you just shared for the two kids, you figured she wasn’t entirely wrong. “It’s kinda nice.” you said eventually, nudging her side playfully.
 “It’s nice that we’re messed up?” She chuckled, looking a little taken back. 
 “No,” you hummed lightly, “it’s nice we’re messed up together.” 
 She finally glanced over at you, giving you a weird look before laughing. “You’re so weird.” she said, nudging you back. 
 With that small bit of comfort, the two of you silently led the other boys the rest of the way to Ms. Kelley’s office. 
 The familiar lingering scent of her relaxing lavender candle hit your senses quickly once you entered inside. Which you were thankful for considering the small stress you seemed to be adding onto yourself. You were happy to finally have a moment where all you guys had to do was focus on the clues needed to progress your theories and not your current problems.
 “It’s like a mini-Watergate or something.” Dustin said behind you. “Hawkinsgate.”
 “Wait a second, didn’t those guys get caught?” asked Steve.
 You made your way over towards the desk, looking over the papers laid out neatly at the center of the table while Max peeked through the cabinet for the files. 
 “Holy shit.” she said suddenly.
 “You found it?” Steve asked, as the rest of you gathered around her.
 “Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file. Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.” Her hand reached back into the cabinet, pulling out one more manila envelope before she turned over to face you. Her eyes focused on you intently as she held the file up in the air. “And so were you.”
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 Even with your eyes looking down at your file, you could feel the intense stare from Steve’s eyes. He hasn’t stopped looking at you ever since Max revealed your file to everyone. You couldn’t help but find it all worthless to bring up. To you, it was just your regular file. There was the first meeting recorded, the goals she wanted you to have for the next couple of years. Nothing out of the ordinary until this year. When she began to take notice of your reaction towards Billy’s death.
 “God,” you scoffed, looking down at her words. “Behavioral avoidance? What a load of crap.” 
 You carefully threw the file onto the desk, plopping down in her chair to look over at what Max had been reading across from you. 
 The folder containing Chrissy’s sessions quickly caught your eye. Making you curious to know what the girl truly had been going through before her untimely death. 
 “Can I see Fred’s file?” she asked suddenly. 
 “Yeah,” Steve said, passing the folder over to her. She quickly laid it out before her, flipping through the papers to collect whatever information caught her attention. From the side you could see as Steve carefully tried to reach out for your file. You made it a point to move away from him on the other side of the desk.
 Leaning over, you reached over for Chrissy’s file, looking over the small details listed on her last session. Headaches, nosebleeds, nightmares, anxiety, insomnia, trauma.. All things that made sense but..oddly familiar. Moving closer, you peered over to look down at Fred’s notes that Max had stopped at. 
 ..They were almost similar to Chrissy’s.
 But that didn’t make sense. It couldn’t. Because if that were the few connecting signs to what made Vecna attack Chrissy and Fred then what did that mean about you? Glancing back at your folder, you pushed through the notes again, trying to figure out if there was anything similar to what was on the other two folders. But there was nothing.
 Only the small note written at the corner of your last session.
 Might benefit if suggested with a group therapy. Perhaps with Max M.  Both suffer from related trauma.
 Related trauma? You thought.
 Glancing up from the papers, you peered over at Max worriedly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she looked a lot like how you felt at the moment. But this couldn’t be right. You never voiced to Ms. Kelley any of these things. You weren’t seeing any weird Vecna monster or dealing with trauma. You were-
 “Perfectly fine?” (tick)
 You felt a cold shiver run down your back and glanced up in the room. Almost expecting to see if anyone else had heard that. There’s a heavy weight suddenly over you and you feel as if the air in the room was slowly being sucked out. This couldn’t be happening. You weren’t like the others. You weren’t going through these struggles you weren’t–
 “Going crazy? (tock)
“Max! MAX!” 
 The sounds of Dustin and Steve calling out to Max instantly pulled you out from you haunting thoughts. Before you was a frozen Max, still frozen in place. “Max?” you called out, getting out from your seat to kneel beside her. 
 Steve’s hand rested on your shoulders, concern on his face as he began to breathe heavily. “What’s going on?” he asked, voice uneasy. “What do we do?”
 “She’s just..I don’t know!” you panicked, shaking at her shoulders. “Max, c’mon. Talk to me!” But as you gazed into her vacant eyes, a chilling thought swept right through you. 
 Did you guys just run out of time?
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A/N: okay so this chapter is kinda messy. Reader is seriously losing her mind but I promise that trouble is gonna get her head on screwed right soon enough. Maybe after she remembers that Nancy is in love with Jonathan and Steve practically dropped everything to go to her. I blame Vecna tbh. And Billy from the afterlife. 
TAGGING LIST:  @cluz1babe​ , @starofavolonea​ , @darlingimafangirl (won’t let me tag), @primroseluna​,  & @siriuslysmoking​
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Text
The Hybrid House | ateez x reader
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Pairing: hybrid!ot8!ateez x rich!girl!reader
Genre: fluff, romance, slice of life
Warnings: mention of su*c*de (it isn't detailed, just mentioned), description of emotions after aforementioned event.
Word Count: 1223 words
a/n: just to clarify with the chapter warnings, it is not my intention to sensationalize su*c*de. it's just mentioned but I do describe the impact a little on one of the characters, so I included a red asterisk * at the beginning and end of where it starts and ends.
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Chapter 2
Things were never the same as before.
After returning home from Thanksgiving that year, your parents barred you and Axel from having any contact with your Great Aunt or anyone from there. Growing up became a monotonous journey of adhering to meticulous expectations and suppressing emotions that would creep in out of nowhere, sometimes late at night and continuously bang in your chest and surge through your veins like an icy slush, begging to be felt. You were expected to excel and outshine your cousins every academic year, and if you didn’t, you would have to face the grueling and mind-numbing one hour long lecture from your parents about how inferior you were to your cousins and even siblings, and how detrimental it would be to your life, if you didn’t achieve their your goals.
You felt like a hamster in a wheel, and so did your brother. Axel was no longer the same person he was. The magical life you both knew and enjoyed and that instilled a sense of possibility and hope every time you visited your Great Aunt was ripped away and holidays were never the same - no longer wonderful but rather filled with exclusive and lavish but toneless dinners with the same repetitive and dull conversations about either the successes of each person or the snide remarks about the failures of others.
You both became robots, submitting to your parents’ way of life. Axel was no longer the same. The brother you knew, who would resist and find ways to sneak around your parents’ dictator rules, became cold and distant. You noticed the haunted and hollow look in his eyes - it showed a profound emptiness filled with sadness with his expressions always mirroring a wilting flower. When he moved out to attend college (that your parents’ selected), he pulled you in a bone-crushing hug before leaving and patted the top of your head with a meek smile as tears glistened in his eyes.
“I’ll always be there for you.”
*
You had just turned 15 and by the end of the year, your world crashed and burned when you were told the worst news - Axel had jumped off a bridge and the medics were unable to save him. The weight of despair and agony crushed your whole existence, and you felt like you were drowning in an ocean of endless sadness and despair. The silent screams you would hold back erupted as an avalanche of sorrow, pain and a dark cloud of grief descended on you with tears stinging like shards of glass and the ragged gasps between sobs making it feel impossible to breathe. 
It took all the effort from your two other brothers to hold you back when one of your parents’ colleague and his wife made a snide remark about Axel when they came to offer their condolences at the memorial.
*
As for your parents, they became different people - they pretended as if Axel never existed, never told your youngest siblings who were born a few months before the event about their brother and pressured each of your siblings so pressingly, it led to the point where your eldest brother showed disdain at the mere mention of Axel’s name and your older sister iced you out if you asked anything regarding doing something for Axel’s anniversary.
Only your other brother showed some support but the bond between the two of you seemed to have become so damaged, he would retreat on his promises and disappear, ignoring you if he was passing by and you were in the room. So every night on the day of Axel’s passing, you would sit in the treehouse that became dusty and cluttered, and cry uncontrollably, secretly praying to go back to how things used to be when you were at your Great Aunt’s.
“What did we do to deserve this?”
And then, after a brutal and nasty argument with your older siblings, you studied diligently to curry favor with your parents and then requested your father to send you to an elite university in Upper New York. You decided to follow in Axel’s footsteps and work your way around your parents’ demands so that things could happen in your favor. You became calculative and observant and succeeded in proving your worth to your parents who as a gift, gave you a top position at the family’s company. Following this, you worked to establish your own personal company to help break away from your parents and move further away from your siblings. 
You took on one of your father’s failed projects and successfully achieved what your father couldn’t do. You saw things for how they were instilled in you to view - dollar signs that could help you move up even higher than before and gain unlimited independence from your family and anyone.
But your parents still tried to control one area of your life, your love life. They tried to set you up on dates and arrange courtships where possible. Luckily for you, it fell through one way or the other. 
However, despite your money-making centered lifestyle, you weren’t completely obsolete to everything. Maybe it was the part of you that learnt from Axel and continued to cherish his lessons. Even if you would never admit it, love felt more than just an arrangement to have more money. Although you were heavily ingrained in the fast-paced, upscale lifestyle, something pulled you in the other direction when it came to love.
Nevertheless, you continued to live your life day by day as it came with meetings, negotiations and the few occasions that included luxurious drinks and food at restaurants or clubs or on yachts in different parts of the world.
Until one day, after a hectic meeting you received a call from a lawyer, more specifically, your Great Aunt's lawyer. Once again, your world was interrupted with life-changing but heart wrenching news - your Great Aunt passed away just a few moments ago before you received the call and you were now the inheritor of her estate, money and home.
That night, you stood on your balcony unable to process all of it. You were now a hundred or probably a thousand times richer, but your Great Aunt who was a part of the best moments in your childhood that became vague and indistinct in your mind, was no longer here. 
Tears cascaded down your face into your concocted cocktail. This was the first time that you cried like this since your brother Axel.
You contemplated telling your parents but then decided against it, remembering that your family did not have any good things to say about your Great Aunt after all these years. This was a secret only for you to know.
And your best friend Yeonjun.
Recruiting Yeonjun, you told your parents you were accompanying him on a trip to Asia to help him secure a business deal with some clients. They paid no heed and waved you off and sent you on your travels.
Now, you were in a car outside of Seoul's airport waiting for Yeonjun to finish placing the bags in the trunk. 
It was at this moment the realization was slowly dawning on you: it had been 13 years since you last came to Seoul, which meant it had been 13 years since you last saw your friends.
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Taglist: @ateezennie23 @edenani @seonghwasslytherin
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fourmoony · 3 days
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MWAH i beat you to it !
reader is a sacred 28 kid and rebels like sirius, forming a close bond with the boys especially remus <3 but even after everything, reader sides with voldemort, having to fight against her friends in battle </3 if this didn't make sense no worries, i love all of your work lovely, have a wonderful day !! 💞✨
omg i'm blushing!!! thank you sm for requesting lovely!! have a wonderful day right back <3 i suck at writing battle scenes so I skipped that, hope you don't mind!!!!
f!reader 1.2k words cw: mentions of all horrible things to do with the black families behaviour, mentions of war
"I don't get it." Sirius shakes his head, brows furrowed. Like it's a joke he can't grasp the punchline of. A sick, cruel joke.
James and Remus are yet to say anything, at all. It weighs heavy throughout the room, their silence. The ache in your heart keeps growing and growing, down to the marrow in your bones, your soul. It doesn't matter that a part of you knew this was coming - from the moment muggles started to disappear all over the country, when the whispering grew more common at balls and gatherings amongst the sacred families. It doesn't matter that you knew you'd be forced to pick a side sooner or later, because you never knew it would hurt this much, could never have prepared for how unfair it feels.
Remus won't meet your eyes. That doesn't matter either, because all he would find is cold indifference. The reality, unfortunately, is that you will be accepting of this role, of this life, of the evil person you will become, the things you will do. As your father's only heir, it is your duty. Much like it had once been Sirius' duty. Before he'd run. You'd never been as brave as Sirius. Rebellious, yes. Brave, no. He'd run and was better for it. You'd run, and your family would never stop hunting you, hunting the people you love.
So you allow the mask to slip over your face, allow the hurt to bleed internally, because soon, it'll stop. Soon, you'll become so cold that you won't feel it anymore.
"What's not to get, Sirius?" James asks, voice thick.
With anger, with sadness. With betrayal. You don't blame him. James, aside from Sirius, who you'd known since you were babies, was your first friend. Fast and hard, you'd been enthralled by James Potter. Best friends by the end of the first week at Hogwarts and inseparable ever since. He'd had hope. Always, always, had hope. James is the sun. He sees the best in everyone, in everything, and he'd had hope that you'd change your mind. That you'd leave your family and the sacred twenty-eight behind. Or, at the very least, stay out of the war that loomed over all of your heads. You'd taken that hope and crushed it with a simple sentence. Right into dust.
"How? How can you just..." Sirius trails off, winces as though the sentence brings him physical pain.
He can't say it. Can't say that after everything; the pranks, the friendship, the family built, that you're getting up and walking away. Picking the other side. He'd thought you better than that and you know it must hurt worse because Sirius knows. He knows too well that it could've been him, cowardice and too afraid to walk away.
He could've been branded with the mark that sits heavy, now, against your covered forearm. A reminder that you can never go back. Not in any way that matters.
"It is my duty Sirius. You'd know about that if you hadn't abandoned it." You reply, cold, indifferent. Your voice sounds foreign, acidic as it comes from your mouth. You try not to choke on the words.
Your best friend flinches as though physically hurt. The words were intended to sting, intended to break down that metal shield he wields so well. You need them to hate you. Need them to let you walk away. Remus finally looks up. Hurt swims in his eyes. Defeat, too. He'd known. Of all of them, he'd known how hard you tried to fight it, how much you tried to push back. And in the end, you'd given up. You'd allowed the darkness of your birth right, your family, that stupid fucking sacred twenty-eight, to swallow you whole. To take you from him.
It cracks and shatters and splinters your heart, that his gaze turns hateful, cold. He's never looked at you such a way in all the years you've known him. Remus is your best friend, your soulmate. Two twin flames, caged animals scared of their own capabilities, pushed around and torn down countless times. The only difference is, you're allowing yours to be set free. Remus never allows the wolf to win.
He'd always understood you best, even in ways Sirius could never.
"He didn't abandon anything. He ran for his life." Remus' voice is sharp as razors, the unbridled fury unlike you've ever heard before.
But you don't back down. Chin raised, your eyes narrow upon him, "If he didn't spend all his time desperate to be someone he's not, pretending to be someone better, he might have been something."
Sirius seems to collapse into the chair, at that. As though the defeat has washed over him, accepting that you're gone, out of reach.
James' look of horror banks itself in your memories, a box you'll lock and throw away the key for, later. When this is done. You force your hands not to shake as you bite, "But you are not better, Sirius. You cannot outrun your bloodline, the Black name. You are one of them, rotted and twisted. Just like you feared. Only now, you're a stain on the family tree. Even they don't want you."
Your soul shakes at the way Sirius gets up and walks out of the room, the way he slams the door shut so hard it shakes the photographs on the walls. Photographs of you all, kept dusted and pristine by James' mother. Your heart breaks in two at the disgust in James' eyes, the white hot anger in Remus'.
"Let me see it." Remus demands.
He stands, tall and menacing in a way you never thought he could be. Remus, your Remus, always so careful and gentle. His hand reaches for your sleeve and you stand, too, dodge his harsh grip by the skin of your teeth. Your blood spikes.
"You didn't." James whispers, eyes distant.
It hurts. It hurts so much you want to rip your own skin off to be free of the shame and the pain, the way you already miss them. But you think of the darkness, of the blissful emotionless darkness that faces you once you are free of them. Once they hate you. Once you fulfil your duties, your birthright.
Remus' eyes are demanding, and before he can lunge at you again, you pull up your sleeve. Your best friends. They look at you like a stranger. The house falls silent, the world falls silent as the invisible string between you pulls taught and snaps. With it, the final piece of your soul withers up and dies. It's done.
"Leave."
James looks to Remus, his friend shaking so violently he thinks he might actually strangle you.
"We could've kept you safe." James pleas, standing as though he can sense you're about to leave. That he's never going to see you anywhere other than on the other side of a wand, again.
"I made my choice. I'll see you on the battlefield."
You don't spare them a glance as you disapparate, wind and nausea pushing against you as you tumble, landing directly into the darkness of your bedroom. Then, and only then, do you allow yourself to shatter into a million, tiny pieces.
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