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niningtori · 1 month

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make you cry | part one

part two | part three: hyuka's ending

pairing: beomgyu x you, huening kai x you in alternate ending

summary: beomgyu is your manwhore best friend who you've been secretly in love with for years. one night, he asks you to blur the lines between friendship and physical intimacy for his own convenience.

genre: ANGST, romance, smut (mdni), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, dom!gyu, eventual sub!gyu, fingering (vaginal), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 4.2k

notes: hi friends! i'm not completely satisfied with this, but i'd rather it be done than sitting in my drafts. pls don't be mean ;_;

being in love with your best friend is not for the faint of heart, you think. in some cases, it’s the easiest thing in the world, but beomgyu makes it difficult. he’s not a bad guy, at least not deep down, but as you watch him break the heart of another notch in his belt, you can’t help but shiver at the fact that he’d very easily do the same to you if you gave him that chance. not that you ever will, that is, but the thought still remains.

you met in grade school. for you, it was a classic case of love at first sight. you had just fallen off the swingset and the teacher had yet to notice you, so you were crying alone when he came up to you with a dinosaur bandaid in tow. he looked like an angel with the sun encircling him, and even as a child, you thought he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen as he held his little hand out for you to grasp. you had no chance to steel your heart when he asked you if you wanted to be friends, and after that, the rest is history.

that was years ago, but the image of him holding out his hand is engraved in your bones. you think about it even now as you watch him make the poor, unfortunate girl in front of you bawl like a baby. she asks him why he's doing this, what she did wrong, how she can fix it to make him stay. but he's dead set on breaking her heart tonight. and you'll be the one who takes his tipsy ass home after he's done ruining this girl’s perception of love. you’re nothing more than a glorified lackey and enabler, but that's just how it is.

“god, i don’t know why they can never just let go. they always have to make it so hard,” he grumbles in the passenger’s seat of your car. he seems more annoyed than genuinely upset and you can’t help but to feel for the girl who he just unceremoniously dumped in the middle of a house party, so you speak up for once.

“it’s not her fault, beoms. she just really likes you,” you reason. not that it matters, anyway, but you feel better after speaking your mind.

“so it’s my fault? i just don’t get it. i told her no strings attached from the beginning. the fact that she took it seriously is her own problem.” well, nevermind about feeling better. you feel even worse for her now.

“it’s hard not to get attached to you,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks, not even really paying attention to what you’re saying, but still asking for the sake of being (what he thinks is) polite.

“no, it’s nothing,” you reply quickly.

“mmm,” he nods, completely preoccupied with his own issues to really give a fuck about what you have to say. then, as if by a stroke of genius, he says his next words without much thought.

“i just thought of something! you would never act like that with me, would you?” you can’t help but scowl. of course you’d act like that. you’re a normal human being with normal feelings. you’ve already fallen for beomgyu without the physical intimacy, so you can’t imagine how you’d act if you actually had sex with him. but you can’t tell him that, or else he’d start suspecting something.

“i guess not,” you sigh.

“then why don’t we hook up instead?” he asks, genuinely earnest.

“no,” you say simply.

“why not?” he frowns, somewhat offended.

“i’m not interested,” you shrug. you don’t realize that your indifference has the opposite effect on beomgyu. what he perceives as your disgust only interests him more.

“c’mon, i’d definitely show you a good time,” he argues.

“i’m fine, thanks.”

“no, you’re not fine. you haven’t slept with anybody in months. not since what’s-his-name, right? it’s the perfect deal. i’ll give you the time of your life and i’ll get to fuck without any feelings involved.” you try your hardest not to say it’s too late for that. those words will never leave your mouth, though. or else he’d drop you like a hot potato.

“i said no and i mean no. besides, i kind of like somebody right now.” you’re not lying, really. you truly do like, even love, somebody right now, and he’s sitting right next to you.

“who is he?” he asks. “actually, your taste in men is so shit, i don't even wanna know.” usually, that would hurt your feelings, but this whole situation is so fucked up you can’t even find it in you to stifle your laugh.

“true.” he cocks an eyebrow at your answer. you should, in theory, vehemently deny this. just how shitty is this guy for you to not even put up a fight?

“okay, i lied. now i really wanna know. who is he? yeonjun?” he asks. you giggle even more.

“no. yeonjun is sweet, but no. and i’m not telling you, so you should give up.”

“you think yeonjun is sweet in comparison? damn, this guy must be fucking scum,” he laughs. you can’t help but shake your head with an airy laugh of your own. yeah, he’s so awful he even makes yeonjun look sweet. at least it seems like yeonjun has a conscience when he fucks somebody over. beomgyu, for the most part, has none.

“he’s not all bad,” you say softly, still smiling and resting your head on the headrest of your car.

“but still bad,” he argues.

“mhmm,” you hum. “still bad.”

beomgyu doesn’t mention hooking up again after that, and for that you are thankful, you think. is there a part of you that regrets not saying yes? in a way, you do. who wouldn’t want to be even closer to the one they love? but you know the closeness would be a lie. even if you were in closer proximity physically, he’d still be far away emotionally. too far to ever catch him. and so you sit at the counter of this shitty bar and watch him try to woo one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, and by the looks of it, it’s working. you smile bitterly and down another shot, making your stomach feel hotter and hotter. you know that by the end of the night, you’ll feel sick, but you’d rather be physically sick and drunk rather than emotionally sick and sober.

“you okay?” kai asks, sliding into the seat next to yours and cutting into your daze with ease.

“aren’t i always?” you answer with a wry smile.

“it’s that bad, huh?” he asks. beomgyu is your best friend, sure, but kai is the only person in the world who knows about your feelings for him. he also feels like the only person in the world who would understand them.

“yeah, it is,” you mumble, downing yet another drink as you watch beomgyu grinding on the girl salaciously.

“wanna get out of here?” he asks sympathetically. you should say no. beomgyu will be angry that you left him, even if he’d ditch you in a heartbeat to get laid. but now, as you watch him shoving his tongue in the red-lipped mouth of the girl who will now be the impossible standard you’ll hold yourself to from hereon out, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i do,” you smile, for real this time, and his grin matches yours.

you’re so drunk, you barely remember how you got home, but you’re here and so is hyuka. you don’t cry, even if he kind of wishes you would just so you could let it all out. you laugh, even, as he tells his dorky jokes and beats your ass in mario kart. things are going so well, you don’t even hear the pounding on your door until kai says something about it.

“i’ll get it,” he says soothingly when you unsteadily try to stand up.

“thanks, hyuka,” you smile. and that smile stays planted on your face until you see who’s at the door. beomgyu. and by the looks of it, he’s pissed.

“what the fuck is your problem?! how could you just leave me there alone?” he asks as soon as he’s let in. your face sinks and all prior happiness is washed away in an instant.

“you weren’t alone,” kai cuts in defensively. “she was alone until i came and got her.” beomgyu is actually a little embarrassed by this blatant callout, but he’d sooner die than admit it.

“well, she should’ve said something, at least,” he counters, face still hot and voice still as loud as ever.

“i thought you were going home with that girl,” you reply meekly.

“and you couldn’t just ask?!” he snaps.

“you’re being an asshole,” kai argues. “nobody wants to watch you tonguing down some random girl, and she’s not your babysitter.” the room is deathly quiet after this. beomgyu is fishing for words, but he’s too drunk to quite think of any at the moment. he wishes he were sober so he could put kai in his place, but the words never come. all he knows is he’s pissed beyond anything he can properly articulate and it’s driving him crazy.

“you’re drunk,” kai adds sternly. “go home.”

“hyuka, it's okay,” you say gently. “he's too drunk for that. he can crash on the couch.” beomgyu doesn't know why, but he scowls at the nickname.

“but —”

“it's okay,” you repeat. kai’s face looks torn.

“alright, then i'll head out,” he relents after a few seconds. “the both of you just need some sleep,” he says with a sharp glance towards beomgyu, who is still fuming, by the way.

“thank you,” you say with a terse smile. he returns it with a smile of his own and shuts the door behind him. beomgyu watches the entire interaction and somehow feels even worse.

“what the fuck was that? is he the guy you’re hung up on or something?”

“no!” you exclaim incredulously. “hyuka is a nice guy, and he’s just… helping me with some things right now.” you’re not the most eloquent person on a good day, much less while drunk, so that’s all you can really say at the moment.

“what ‘things’ could he possibly be helping you with?” he snaps before realization dawns on him. “you told him about that guy, didn’t you?! you can tell him but you can’t tell me?”

“he… he just understands,” you say. you knew beomgyu wouldn’t just let this shit go and be done with it. he’s like a child finding out his dog likes somebody better than he likes him, and it’s exhausting.

“are you sleeping with him?”

“what, no!” you say firmly.

“you are, aren’t you?” he sneers. “you won’t let me touch you, but you’re letting him?”

“is it so hard to believe that a man just wants to be my friend without wanting to fuck me?” truthfully, yes. you’re good looking and his experience tells him that men always harbor those intentions. well, he does, at least. and for some reason, as he looks at you in your big t-shirt and sweatpants, those intentions are brewing even more.

“beomgyu?” you ask tentatively. his eyes are so intense it seems like he’s even more pissed off, somehow. your innocent look stokes the flames of what’s already been burning for you.

as if he’s possessed, he stalks his way over to you, grabs your face before you can even react, and plants a bruising kiss on your soft lips. you gasp when he meanly takes your bottom lip between his teeth and he can’t help but chuckle. the kiss is cruel for so many reasons, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t knock you off of your feet. you’re usually so restrained around him for reasons only you and kai know, but you feel your inhibitions melt as his tongue enters your mouth. he tastes like alcohol, but then, so do you, and he doesn’t seem to mind. in fact, if his hungry kiss in any indication, he seems to love it.

one of his hands travel under your big hoodie and he tweaks your already hardened nipple between his fingers.

“does that feel good, baby?” he asks lowly, and you feel yourself becoming even more wet. you're too embarrassed to respond, but judging from his tone, he already knows your answer.

his kisses are unrelenting and fierce, no gentleness or care to be seen, but you’re so sweet he can’t control himself. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he hit puberty, but you’ve never seemed interested in him for reasons he can’t understand. but now, you seem more than interested as you let him lead you to your bedroom. he lays you down on your bed and takes off your sweatpants. when he sees you, naked and glistening just from a few touches, he licks his lips in anticipation.

“all this from a few kisses?” he teases, rubbing his fingers up and down your slit. you can do nothing but gasp in response as he pushes one of his long, calloused fingers into your heat.

“s-so tight, it’s sucking me in,” he moans. “i can’t wait to see how you feel around my cock.” he adds a second finger and curls, hitting your sweet spot. all you can do is moan as he takes his thumb and rolls your clit. he watches your body rise and fall with the pleasure and it fascinates him like nothing he��s ever seen. your eyes are screwed shut, but he can’t help but prod and tease to see the different facial expressions you show him. before long, he’s pounding into you. the sound of squelches mixed with your moans only goads him further and further until you’re clenching down mercilessly on his fingers.

“aww, does that feel good, baby?” he coos. “wanna feel even better?” post-release clarity should hit you right about now, but you’re only more eager when he removes his clothes. his lengthy cock, angry and reddened, springs up and slaps his stomach. you whimper at the sight and he smirks at how needy you are.

he hovers over you and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to rub his stiffened length up and down your slit.

“gyu, you need a condom —” you begin to protest.

“why? i’m clean. and i don’t fuck just anyone raw,” he argues as the head of his cock comes dangerously close to hooking on your entrance. you’ve never been able to say no to him for any meaningful amount of time, so relenting isn’t out of the ordinary for you. but more than that, his words, though unromantic, spark a bit of hope in your heart. you’re special, you think.

“do you trust me?” he asks.

no. not at all.

“of course.” and he pushes in. his arrogance falters as you take him in, inch by throbbing inch. it’s a tight fit, and the way you clench around the tip of his cock only drives him further and further into madness. how can you feel so good? how can this feel so perfect?

your poor pussy is equal parts trying to suck him in and trying to resist so the intrusion is forced out. to him, it feels like heaven.

“t-tight!” he hisses. “relax, baby, or you’re gonna break me.” for some reason, his words comfort you, allowing him smooth entry until he’s completely sheathed in you. you both moan when he completely bottoms out, balls hitting your ass in the most lewd way. his precum mixed with the result of your release seep into the bedsheets. he stays there for just a moment, pushing your hair out of your face, and his next words are uncommonly tender.

“you look so pretty like this,” he muses, and you don’t even have time to blush before he’s unsteadily pulling out, pussy pulling him back in like it never wants him to leave, then thrusting back in again.

“oh m-my god,” he says as he begins to ram into you. “so good, baby. you’re taking me so well.”

“b-big!” is all you can manage to say as he continues to fuck you open.

“oh baby, are you going dumb on my cock? can’t even manage to get the words out, can you? it’s okay, don’t think. i’ll take care. of. you,” he says, punctuating each word with his mean thrusts.

you’re crying now, the pleasure too great to stifle your tears. beomgyu thinks you look absolutely lovely like this, lovelier than anyone he’s ever seen, especially when he looks at where you two are joined and watches himself enter and exit your puffy pussy. each gasp, each breathy whine you emit makes him feel crazier and crazier. he aches so much, he has no choice but to continue pounding into you until he's relieved. so he does. he’s gripping the plush of your thighs like he might die if he doesn’t have something to hold onto.

he leans over to give you a nasty kiss, all tongue and teeth. when he parts from you, a lewd string of saliva falls from your mouths and he can’t control the chuckle that escapes him when he sees your pupils are blown out as you flounder for his lips again.

“look, baby. look at how good i’m fucking you.” you look down and see how his cock protrudes from your tummy as he rams in and out of you. “nobody else has fucked you right, but don’t worry, i’ll make sure to fix that.” your pussy involuntarily clenches at his filthy words and it’s enough to make you come.

“c-coming!” you manage to choke out as you spasm around him, back arching deliciously. he follows soon after, thrusts becoming uneven before you feel his cum shooting inside of you.

fucking beomgyu comes naturally, and often. he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. hooking up becomes almost a daily affair, but you’re so hungry for him you can’t bring yourself to protest. you fuck in his car, on his couch, over the fucking kitchen counter, even. all plans to go out with anyone else are immediately dashed in favor of being with him, instead. you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with him, and even if you know, know, know it’s fruitless, you can’t help but relent when he looks at you like a man starved.

“this can’t be good for you,” kai tells you one evening in the comfort of your apartment. it’s a rare occurrence to have a free night from beomgyu’s clutches. kai hasn’t seen you in weeks because you’ve been too “busy” with beomgyu.

“well, i know,” you sigh, too tired to argue with him.

“if you know, then why do you do it?” he asks tentatively. you can’t help but give him a look.

“you know why,” you say.

“he's just messing with your head. you know this can't end well.” you flinch at the word “end”. you know it, he knows it, beomgyu surely fucking knows it, but you can’t help but give in every time. “what are you gonna do when he inevitably fucks you over? and he will, just like always.”

“i… i’ll deal with it when the time comes,” you protest. he sees your defeated expression and lightly tilts your head so it’s resting on his shoulder. your retribution for your actions was always well on its way, but you didn’t know it would come so soon.

you hear a key turning in the door. there’s only one person in the world you’ve given a spare to, so you aren’t surprised in the slightest when beomgyu walks in with that signature smirk on his face. he scowls a bit when he’s greeted with the scene of you and kai sitting so intimately.

“am i interrupting something?” he scoffs as you raise your head from kai’s shoulder.

“no,” kai replies before you can even fix your lips to respond. to your mild surprise, he doesn't push any further.

“whatever,” he shrugs, plopping down next to the two of you and pulling out his phone.

“wanna see this girl whose number i got today?” he asks casually, swiping through his phone eagerly. so that's why he didn't wanna meet up. your heart feels like a hole’s been blown straight through it. you and kai share a deep look, which beomgyu completely misses as he pulls up a picture of a beautiful looking girl.

“this is her,” he says with a triumphant smirk. you don’t — can’t — respond. you just have a blank look on your face.

“what?” he asks petulantly. “she’s really pretty, look!” he insists, pulling up another picture. “she’s one of the hottest girls i’ve seen in a minute.”

any last shred of hope or dignity you have is strangled in its crib at his careless words. your eyes are hot and your stomach hurts so much you feel like you’re going to vomit. kai notices your discomfort and decides to put a stop to this once and for all.

“alright, that’s enough,” kai snaps. “nobody wants to see that shit.”

“what’s your fucking problem?” beomgyu retorts.

“my problem is that you’re a fucking moron. grow up.” beomgyu’s not one to get physical, at least not in a violent sense, but he’s on the precipice of breaking that streak at kai’s harsh words.

“stop, hyuka. it’s okay,” you say softly. beomgyu is so furious, he almost forgot you’re here, but he's genuinely confused by kai’s words.

“what's okay? what is it that you're not telling me?” beomgyu asks.

“it's not okay, actually. he’s fucking you but he comes around and pulls this shit right in front of you?! she won’t say it, but i will.”

“kai, don’t —”

“she doesn’t care! no strings attached, that’s always been the deal.”

“you may be stupid as fuck, but surely you’re not that stupid,” kai sneers. “so if you say you don’t already know, you’re just a fucking liar.” beomgyu pauses at this. is he saying what he thinks he’s saying? surely you didn’t catch feelings, right? but one look at your face, and he knows kai is telling the truth.

but why? and when?

“since when did you…”

“since always,” you say quietly.

“oh, fuck. look, i —”

“it’s okay. i already know,” you cut in. and you do already know, but you can’t bear to hear him say it. beomgyu, in all his glory, processes this and instead of regret, all he feels is anger.

“i’m the piece of shit guy you can’t get over? are you fucking serious?”

“hyuka, you should go,” you say instead of letting him watch the melodrama unfolding before him. kai looks uncertainly between the both of you before relenting.

“call me later, okay?” he says, wiping tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had fallen.

“okay,” you reply with a sad smile. he sends beomgyu one last scathing look before gathering his shit and slamming the door behind him.

“you tricked me!” beomgyu exclaims as soon as the door shuts. “i would’ve never fucked you if i knew you’d be like this.” just like everyone else. he doesn’t need to voice the last part, but you already know he wants to say it, which just hurts you even more.

“did you really not know, or were you just pretending not to know ‘cause it’d be inconvenient for you?” that shuts him up. kai was right, he’d be stupid not to know. maybe not at first, but surely along the way. surely when you’d look at him so longingly after sleeping with him, or the way you’d look so sad when he didn't stay after sex.

“listen, i’m so sorry that you’re scared, or angry, or whatever it is you’re feeling. i really am. but are you so selfish that you really think nobody else is afraid to have their heart broken? and do you think that means you’re allowed to hurt everyone else instead?” you ask quietly. every new word pierces his heart like nothing he's ever felt before. he wants to say something, but for the life of him, he can’t think of anything quite fitting.

“i think you should leave,” you say after what feels like an eternity of silence. he looks at you with watery eyes and you almost feel guilty, but you’re through with feeling things for him that he’d never have the courtesy to feel for you. “go,” you repeat defeatedly, striding to the door and holding it open for him and he feels more and more like a rat you want to chase out of your home.

he looks like he wants to say something, but one look at you tells him you’re done listening. with heavy feet and an even heavier heart, he heads through the doorway, pausing only before he’s about to cross the threshold. he has a sinking feeling in his gut that tells him this is probably the last time he’ll be here.

“are we still friends after this?” he asks lowly, eyes wide and more desperate than you’ve ever seen them.

“no,” you say simply, and shut the door.

notes: not a ton of smut in this part, but i think the next part will have more i fear.

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

#niningtori #make you cry #beomgyu smut #beomgyu angst #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt angst #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #mdni #huening kai x reader #hueningkai x reader

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 4 months

Note

Jade my dear I just had an idea for prince Steve… what if he got hurt (fencing or something??? honestly idk) & reader freaks out even though their relationship is fairly new? Or idk how your soulmate au works but maybe she can feel it too? Or idk!! I’d just love to see what you could do with that, but no pressure either way 🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1.1k

“Holy fuck!” Steve says, yanking his leg back from the doctor’s cold hands, and hurting his knee worse than ever. “Fuck!”

“Steven,” she says with an eye roll, used to his lack of carefulness by now.

“What the fuck.”

“It’s not that bad. You haven’t even torn anything. It’s a sprain at worst.”

“I will never walk again.”

“Fingers crossed,” Robin says, kicking her legs up onto the end of his medical bed. Her hat slips down into her eyes, her naked knees red from ten minutes in the grass trying to persuade Steve into standing again.

“It hurt so bad. Are you sure I can’t have morphine?” he asks.

The doctor tightens the bandages one last time around Steve’s knee. “Absolutely not. I’ll make you a peppermint tea for the inflammation. You’ll be better by tomorrow.”

It throbs evilly. Steve doesn’t believe even for a moment that his knee will be better by tomorrow, he can’t walk without help. “I want to see another doctor,” he decides.

“Sure,” the doctor says. “Tomorrow.”

Steve sinks down into the pillows unhappily. What kind of royal life is this? Nobody ever takes him seriously, they couldn’t care less that he’s injured, and now he’s doomed to sit inside for who knows how long in the suffocating heat and the smothering presence of his attendants. Worst day ever.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, because if he’s going to suffer, he’s going to be spoiled about it. “I want to see her.”

“She’s in her political etiquette class,” Robin says from under the hat, unmoving.

“That’s dumb. She doesn’t like politics or etiquette. Can we have her pulled out?”

“Sure, Steve, we’ll disrupt her entire day because you slipped on dry grass.”

Steve tries to catch the eye of one of the serfs lining the room and by the door, but they’re smart to his ways, and they look away. He doesn’t care. He’s a prince. “Hello? Can someone go and get her, please?”

They all stand still but uncomfortable for a moment, and then one says, “She’s coming down the hall as we speak, your highness.”

“Aw, yes,” he says, propping up on his elbows to look out the doorway. There you are, in a pretty, breezy dress you aren’t used to wearing and your hair in one of the new fashions, silver bracelets tinkling on your wrist as you speed walk to the door.

“Hello,” you say, breathless, still shy despite having married him and kissed him more times than he can count (seventeen).

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ve been grievously harmed.”

“They told me, and I–” You rub your index fingernail between the thumb and index of the other hand. “I can feel it,” you say, an embarrassed and adorable smile on your lips as you waver in the door. “Are you okay?”

“You have to sit down and have some morphine too,” he says quickly.

“You aren’t having any morphine,” Robin says.

You weave around servants and the dressing table to stand by his bed. He’s pleased to realise you want to sit hip to hip with him, moving over despite his screaming knee, and putting his arm behind you as you hoist yourself onto the bed. “Hello,” he says, audibly charmed by you as he kisses your cheek. He rubs the kiss with the back of his finger. “Didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

“It feels like I’ve had a cramp,” you say. “But it’s not– I can’t imagine how it feels for you.”

“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he says.

“Ew,” Robin grumbles, covering her face with skinny hands.

“Sorry, Robin.” You wipe your forehead. “I freaked out.”

“Don’t say sorry to her,” Steve says, putting his hand on your hip just to watch you fluster, “she’s bitter. Let me rub your knee.”

“What about your knee? What did you even do?”

“I fell. A little. A minor fall.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Honey, I’m in agony, and they won’t treat me, and you’re sitting with me, so I’m already fine.”

Confusion in your gaze melds to sweetness. You’re practically heart-eyed leaning into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach. You rarely initiate hugs from fear of being overbearing, and he can’t believe his luck. He’ll be eating grass more often.

“I can feel that you aren’t fine. Are you going to be okay? Seriously, Steve, are you hurting?”

Your soul mark burns a light blue. He’s narrowed your colours down, he thinks, maybe, though they tend to change. Blue means love and affection. He’s a more classic guy —when he’s in love, his soul mark burns a gaussian pink just as it does now.

“Oh, you can feel it?” he asks.

“Don’t start.”

“We’re so connected,” he says quietly, teasingly, a flirtation for your ears alone. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something. Suns, I wish. I’d be a lucky guy, huh? Connected to a girl like you?” He draws a line from just below your ear to your chin. “I’d feel like a prince among men.”

“Stop,” you whisper, in a tone that suggests you’d very much like him to continue.

Nonetheless, he drops his hand in favour of kissing you instead, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. His leg throbs with angry pain and a headache brews between his eyes, but he’s not kidding about being fine. Everything feels better when you’re with him. You truly are the half to his whole, no matter how new your relationship might be.

“How was your morning?” he asks.

“Being a princess is awful.”

“Yes, but it suits you.”

You turn your face to his, close enough to kiss. It’s very tempting for Steve, but he lets you say what’s clearly on your mind. “I had a funny feeling about you this morning, like something bad was going to happen, and I wanted to be with you in case but they wouldn’t let me out of meditation. Do you think I was having a premonition?”

“Maybe. They wouldn’t let you out?”

“Morine said I need to have better discipline if I’m going to be queen.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around you completely for a full, loving hug. “You will be queen, no ifs about it, so you need to start acting like one and have more hissy fits to visit your pathetic husband.” He kisses your cheek three times in quick succession.

Your soul mark intensifies slowly, until it burns a beautiful, coruscating blue that dances over the skin of your wrist as you hug him back. “You’re the opposite of pathetic.”

“No, I was. Ask Robin.”

“He was,” Robin says.

“But I’m totally cooler now,” he promises.

You let your face fall into the curve of his neck, tickling him with your smile. “You’re so cool, Steve.”

“My lovely liar.” He kisses the top of your head.

“As touching as this is, I have your tea ready now, young Steven,” the doctor says.

Steve pretends he can’t hear her.

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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cameronspecial · 7 months

Text

Let Me Date You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.9K

Summary: Rafe wants everything for their first date to be perfect, but unfortunately, it isn't.

Masterlist

They were going to go for Mexican food on Friday night, but unfortunately, Y/N got sick and lost her voice. It disappointed Rafe greatly to have to postpone the date, but at least now he can make it absolutely perfect. The Mexican place he wanted to take her to is now closed for a private event, so he had to rethink his plan. He thought it would be the perfect opportunity to go to the most exclusive restaurant in town. He planned everything down to a t. It was the type of place with a pre-determined menu, so he had to make sure that the menu they had the night of their date was something Y/N would like. He made sure they shipped in the drink she liked. He made sure that he got her the perfect pre-date gift. She wasn’t the biggest fan of flowers, so he got her some of her favourite stationery she likes to use for her notes. This date was going to be perfect and he was going to make sure of that.

——

The first thing that goes wrong is the restaurant reservation. “I’m sorry Mr. Cameron, but in our system, it says that your reservation is at eight,” the hostess apologizes, looking up from the screen. Rafe shakes his head, “No, no, no. That’s not right. I said seven. I confirmed with whoever I was on the call with that it was at seven. What are we supposed to do until we get a table?” Before the hostess can answer, Y/N steps in to help ease the situation. “It’s okay, Rafe. We can go back to your car and listen to some music. I have this great song that I think you would like.” She takes his hand and they head to his car to do as she suggests with him grumbling under his breath at the stupid person he was on call with. The next thing that spoils his evening is the menu being changed at the last minute. “And the entrée for tonight is a braised duck accompanied by a peanut sauce,” the waiter announces while pouring their wine.

Rafe’s fist clenches in anger. He specifically told the restaurant he needed to know about menu changes because of her allergies. Now, it makes him look incompetent to Y/N because she told him about her allergies. “Oh, I’m allergic to peanuts. Is there any way to not get the sauce on it,” she politely asks. The waiter gives a tight-lipped smile and shakes his head, “I’m afraid not, Miss. The chef doesn’t like when the meals are altered in any way.” “That is stupid, so you are telling me that my date can’t eat anything because your chef doesn’t want to have his feelings hurt,” Rafe argues, boring his eyes into the man. Y/N smiles at the waiter, “It’s okay. Is there any way we can get the check, please?” The waiter nods and heads to get their check for the drinks printed out.

She turns to Rafe with a smile, “It’s okay, Rafe. We can just go to the campus pub. We can share the nachos.” He wants to argue with her that he can fix this and with the chef that he needs to get rid of the nut sauce for Y/N. Yet, something in him tells him to do as she suggested. “I’m sorry. I just really wanted this night to be perfect for you, Angel. And everything seems to be going wrong,” he tells her, putting his hand in hers. She shakes his head, “I know you do, but I promise, it will still be perfect if we go to the pub. Honestly, I like greasy nachos way more than braised duck.” This calms his nerves a little and he pays the bill so they can leave.

——

The pub is busy. Probably because of the hockey game playing on the TVs, but Y/N and Rafe get a table in the back corner. It’s more cozy and warm than the stuffy and cold exclusive restaurant. The date is going absolutely amazing. They’ve shared so much food. A burger. Nachos. Wings. Fries. They completely indulged themselves in not only food but also conversation. There is never a moment of silence and laughter fills the air. Rafe has to admit that this has been the perfect date. “I just wanted to say thank you for letting me date you, Angel,” he interrupts their conversation. He can’t help himself. He needs her to know how much this means to him because he thinks he found his soulmate. She leans in to give him a kiss and pulls away, “No need to thank me. You found me and I promised I would. But this has been an amazing date. I love it.” He has kissed a lot of people before, but he’s never kissed anyone who's built a fire in his stomach. It tells him what he needs to say next.

“I know it’s early, but will you be my girlfriend?” he inquires, begging the universe that she won’t say no. She grins at his nervousness, letting him be on edge for a second. When it looks like he is about to cry, she saves him from his panic. Her arms wrap around his neck, “Of course, I would love to!” They pull away from the hug to turn it into a kiss. Once they pull away, Rafe takes a napkin and looks around for a pen. “Here,” she offers, handing him one from her purse. She is so curious about what he is going to write. She watches as he writes down numbers for a list and then writes Rules To Be Rafe’s Girlfriend at the top of the napkin. Boy, does she not know what she got herself into.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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brooooswriting · 1 year

Note

Can you write something about Melissa Barrera with a reader who’s shorter than her? :)

Yo shorty

Melissa Barrera x reader

You Met Melissa on the set of scream 6, you were her makeup artist and it was great. She was always very nice and polite, she was on time, didn’t stress you, wasn’t mad if something didn’t work out the first time and was always easy to talk to. You and her were a dream team all of the people you work with always told you which made both of you blush, but truth be told you were a great team. 90% of the time you were the first that were done, there was always laughter filling your trailer and you barely needed a second try on anything by now.

At some point your relationship with Melissa turned into more of a friendship, while everybody else had conversations about the set you were talking about your love life, her family and friends, just everything to the point where your colleagues started shipping you two.

Funny thing though, you have never been with Melissa when she was standing, she already sat in your Trailer when you came back with the makeup you needed and you often left the trailer before her. And due to her full schedule you had never met outside of set, even though that was planned.

The first time was when your co worker had a doctors appointment later that day so you had to change shifts, she would do her make up in the morning and you’d stay on set for fixes during the scene.

It seemed like nobody notified Melissa as she was utterly confused why nobody came running in way too late and hugging her sitting figure as a ‘hello’ and a ‘sorry for the delay’. “where’s y/n?” She asked as she sat down, ready to get her make up done. “We had to switch shifts, but hello to you too” anna, your coworker, grinned as she started with the foundation. “Oh you know I didn’t mean it like that” the brunette joked, sad that she didn’t see you in the morning.

She first saw you that day when you were coming on set, running again because you were late, crushing into her as a hello, your normal greeting by now. Except that this time Melissa didn’t have to look up to you, no she had to crane her neck to look down at you. About 20 cm under her line of eye, were you standing hugging her waist. She knew that you’d be smaller than her but she never thought that you were that small. Her arms wrapped around your shoulder nonetheless, she was slightly giggling while the rest of the cast was awing. “What are you laughing about?” You asked when you finally parted, “nothing, just your lateness” she lied, she didn’t want to point out the obvious. “Very funny” you grumbled as you pulled out a brush with fake blood on it to fix her forehead, the only problem was that even when you stretched your arm you couldn’t quiet touch her forehead the right way to fix the makeup. Jasmin immediately laughed out loud, Mason awed again while Jenna looked at you like she could relate.

This time Melissa wasn’t just giggling she was full on laughing, “want me to bend down?” She grinned at you making you roll your eyes. “Well you can bend down or I can punch you in the stomach so you have to bend over in pain” you deadpanned, Jenna smiling proudly. “Uhh, you got a feisty one Mel” Jasmin laughed again, you turned your head and raised an eyebrow at her which made her shut up and take a step back. “Let’s do my makeup over there” she grabbed your hand and pulled you behind a wall, sitting down on a chair which gave you better access to her face. “It’s cute that you’re so small” she muttered out, it wasn’t uncommon for her to flirt with her but you still blushed and mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ to her. When you pulled the brush away her hands grabbed your small waist, pulling you closer to the point where you sat on her lap, this was new. “Let me take you on a date” she spoke out causing you to freeze, the fact that you didn’t answer made her keep talking, “come on, we’ve been flirting the whole time and I promise I’ll treat you right, I’ll spoil you, love you and I’ll defend you when somebody makes fun of your height” you couldn’t help but laugh out at the last part. “Wouldn’t that be unprofessional?” You asked scared that this might get you fired, “it’s fine, I’ll talk to the producers alright? So can I pick you up tonight?” Your faces was tomato red and you didn’t trust your voice so you only nodded causing her to smile. “I’ll be there at 8”

Your first date was great, you got something to eat and just talked. After that followed 5 dates in the next 5 days, you couldn’t stop seeing each other. Both of you had wanted this since you started filming, you still decided to keep it on the low and not tell anybody right away. At least until your 7th date.

You slept over at Melissa’s, you had drunken a bit and she didn’t want you to drive so you decided to stay, being the gentlewomen she is she wanted to sleep on the couch but after a short discussion you shared the bed. She was nervous, which was pretty cute to you, you had to grab her arm and wrap it around your waist to indicate that cuddling was fine. That night you spent in her arms as the little spoon, due to the cold weather her body heat warmed you perfectly, especially because her body engulfed yours nearly completely.

The only problem was that you forgot to set your own alarm, you woke up to the actress’s alarm. “Mhm, turn that off” she grumbled into your neck her arms pulling you closer by the waist, you stretched your arm out to stop the alarm until you saw the time. “Fuck” you yelled out and jumped out of bed, “what’s wrong?” She asked quickly sitting up too, “it’s 5 am, I have to be there in 30 minutes, we have a conference today” you explained doing the math in your head, there was no way that you would have time to get home and get dressed and you couldn’t wear the dress you wore yesterday for the date, it was way to revealing for work. “It will be fine, you can wear some of mine cloths” she said, standing up and opening her closet. “Everything will be way to big on me” you pouted but it was your last option any way.

So Melissa found a pair of boyfriend jeans that were too short for her and you put on a hoodie from her and your chucks. You looked okay, but you felt awesome as the cloths smelled like her. “I gotta go, I’ll see you at 6 am right?” She nodded as she gave you a to go cup with coffee in it. “Alright, see ya later” you said and stood in your tippy toes signaling her that you wanted a goodbye kiss. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips while her hand rested on your waist, squeezing lightly. After a couple more kisses you finally parted.

You ran towards the conference room at 5:32 am, you were late but at least it was only 5 minutes. “Sorry, lots of traffic” you said as you speed walked towards your seat. “Aren’t those cloths way to big for you?” Anna who sat next to you mumbled out. “No, I ordered oversized ones” you lied keeping your eyes on the producer. Your coworker decided to let it slide this time turning back towards the producer.

When you walked out of the meeting it was 5:55am, “well, I’m gonna go get Mel ready” you said and walked to the trailer where Jasmin and your date already sat. “Nice cloths y/n” Jasmin called after you making you blush, “thanks, they’re new” you lied taking some makeup out of the shelf’s. “Really? I didn’t know they sold hoodies with the writing ‘Barrera’ on it” she laughed causing you to blush and for the first time you looked down and saw her name written on it. “You guys are so cute, but chill I won’t tell a soul” she added and you thanked her before walking to Melissa who was trying to stop laughing.

“You ass! You gave me that hoodie! You knew that your name was on it!” You hit her shoulder making her laugh even more, “well it’s cute” she only said before kissing you softly. “Shut up and turn so I can do your hair” you grumbled out.

“I gotta ask you something” Melissa spoke up as you sat on her couch watching football, “shoot” you mumbled turning your head away from the TV in front of you. “Well, you know that the premier of my new movie is gonna be soon right?” She asked and you nodded, “yes, I can do your make up” you laughed and kissed her cheek but she only shook her head. “No, I want you to come with me… as my girlfriend” she said. You stopped in shock only starring at her. “Your…girlfriend?” You repeated and she nodded. A smile formed on your face, and you threw yourself onto her lap kissing her as a ‘yes’.

Two weeks later you stood on the red carpet with her, her arm mostly resting on your head as a armrest making the others laugh while you grumbled. When the pictures turned serious she hugged you from behind, her arms around your waist and your head tucked under hers. “I love you shorty” she mumbled into your hair. You turned around and kissed her with your hands on her neck, “I love you too you asshole” you mumbled before turning back.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #melissa barrera x reader #melissa barrera #Melissa Barrera x y/n #Melissa Barrera x fem!reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x you

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corpsebasil · 1 year

Note

Could you do a Nikolai x reader one, where there's a lot of pinning and in the rain confession in the end ?

Ohhhhh yes

Just Stay -> Nikolaiiiiii

summary: when you and Nikolai break up, you don’t want to spoil the reunion in Kerch with each other’s bullshit

He’d made you swear not to say anything, and you’d agreed.

You’d practically thrown yourself into Alina’s arms when you saw her; she’d grown even more beautiful since you last saw the girl and Mal, at her side, even more rugged somehow.

“The treasure of my heart!” She cooed, pinching your cheek as Mal gave you a one armed hug like he would a sister.

“You look good Y/N. Nice to see you. Now where’s…” Mal trailed off and sprinted, leaping onto Nikolai so fast the two men toppled to the floor.

You laughed at the sight and tried to ignore the twinge that went through you at the sight. The four of you had always been close. Always. Alina nudged you and raised a brow.

“Those two will never stop being brothers.” She giggled, tugging you along. “Come on. The Crows are here. They’re dying to see you!”

You followed, watching as Nikolai pushed himself to his feet on the docks, laughing as he dusted dirt off his pants. Then his eyes slid to yours and his smiled tightened. You forced yourself to extract yourself from Alina, mumbling about ‘you know how fiancés are’ and moving to Nikolai’s side.

“Sweetheart.” You greeted him, and Mal winked at him before chasing after Alina.

“Darling.” He smiled politely, tone completely lacking any sign of tension.

“Need help with your bag?” You offered, tilting your head with a smirk as he looked you up and down. “Princely muscles are so delicate.”

He raised a brow and flexed his arm, giving you a perfect view of the corded golden skin. Saints, his arms had gotten even bigger since you’d last seen him. You’d tried not to ogle him the entire ship ride to Kerch, and your face had reddened when he caught your glances.

It had been six months. Six months since he’d come to your rooms and told you it was over. No explanation. Nothing. Just a calm, ‘I’m sorry, but I cant marry you’ and he left. After spending the entire night in utter numbness, unable to even summon a tear through your shock, you sought out the prince. It was an arranged marriage, sure, but you two loved each other. You shared stories, kisses, beds—you loved him. Desperately. And when you knocked on his door, he was gone.

He was gone, and the staff said they didn’t know when he’d be back or where he’d went. So you’d packed your bags and went back to Fjerda that same morning.

“Try not to pop a vein.” You told him, raising a brow at his flex. He smiled coyly and rolled his eyes, taking a step forward.

“I hear princesses are delicate too. How are those dainty fingers of yours doing, Love?” He took your hands in his, his, warm, calloused thumbs running over your palms as if to test the smoothness, and you fought every instinct to rip away. Especially when his hands turned your own over, both of you looking at the Lantsov ring resting where it had used to sit before. “Your hands are just as soft as I remember.” He chuckled weakly, blue eyes finding your own.

Your smile faltered and you pulled your hands back slowly, feigning wiping something off your bodice as you turned away. The ring was still heavy. The guards had taken it from you after you and Nikolai had split, not allowing you to take it off Palace grounds. As if you wanted the damn reminder anyways.

“We should catch up with them.” You said, not looking back as you followed Alina and Mal.

“Fucking hell.” You mumbled, dropping your bag on the floor as you entered the room at the Inn that Alina had arranged for you. Nikolai didn’t seem any more pleased than you, grumbling something as he dumped his bag on the floor beside yours.

“Left or right side?”

“You think I wanna share a bed with you?”

He paused. “What if one of the group comes in during the middle of the night?”

“For what? Why could they possibly have a reason to come in?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. A fire drill?”

You cursed and dropped onto the bed, splaying out as you shut your eyes. You had a pounding headache—had since you’d seen him again—and the proximity was making it worse. That mint smell of him along with his expensive cologne and, underneath that, the scent that was his alone? It was making you dizzy.

“How long do we have to keep this up?” You asked, flinging your arms above your head. Your fingers brushed his thighs and you jerked them away, looking up at him with a glare. He was acting innocent, whistling a tune as if he wasn’t just leaning his entire bottom half over you to snatch up a pillow. “And keep your junk out of my face.”

“Never had an issue with it befor—hey!” He exclaimed when you whacked him with the nearest pillow, and hard. “Calm down! I’m just messing with you.” At your icy glare his expression sobered, and he sat on the bed next to your head. “We pretend—I mean, they’ve wanted to see us together for so long—until we leave, I guess. Or we stage a fight believable enough that they think we would’ve broken up.”

“Why’d you emphasize it?”

“What?”

“You said ‘we’ in a weird way. Like us breaking up was impossible.” You sat up on an elbow, eyes searching his face. “We did break up, Nik, remember?” Your chest tightened, and you tried to force away the memories that rose.

Like the way you still reached for his side of your bed sometimes when you woke up, or when you had a nightmare, your mind too slow to remember you weren’t in Ravka.

Or the way you’d stolen one of his shirts and slept with it for a week straight before a maid saw it in your dirty clothes and washed it. You’d struck her for it and immediately regretted it, but the agony of not having his scent anymore made you drop to your knees and sob.

How you hardly ate—hardly slept—for two months without him.

And then there was when you’d heard rumors of him courting someone else in Ravka. A different princess perhaps, or a lady. That news had holed you up in your room for a week.

It killed you that he seemed to be completely happy and unbothered by your reunion. As if he hadn’t broken your heart into a million pieces and left you alone without so much as an explanation. You stared at him now, watching his expression change from seriousness to shame, and you turned your head away.

“You can come up with the plan.” You mumbled, climbing out of the bed and stepping to the floor. His silence was as heavy as a blanket over your shoulders, suffocating you. “I’m tired of reliving our breakup every day of my fucking life.”

You heard a small strangled sound come from his throat but you didn’t turn around, not when you shut the door behind you.

That night, you met up with Alina, Mal, and Nina at the Crow Club, Inej, Jesper, and Kaz busy doing god knows what. You found yourself seated in a crowded booth next to Nikolai, one leg slung over his thigh, his arm around your shoulders.

The pose was so familiar, one you’d done a hundred times, and maybe it was the muscle memory of it that made you ache so much. Neither of you had spoken on the way to the Club; you because you had absolutely no desire to talk to him ever again if unnecessary; him because his head was so full of grief over your words it was eating him alive.

I’m tired of reliving our breakup every day of my fucking life.

What was he even supposed to say to that?

He was watching you now, his smile wide and relaxed as his thumb ran small circles against your shoulder-blade. The others couldn’t see but it didn’t matter. He’d been craving your skin, your smell, all of you since he’d left, and now that he had you in his arms again, at least for the next two days, he was going to soak in every second of it.

“When’s the wedding?” Nina asked, popping an olive into her mouth as she wiggled her eyebrows. If she heard the way the two of you’s heart rates picked up, she chalked it up to excitement.

“We haven’t picked—” You started, just as Nikolai said, “Working on a venue.” The two of you glanced at one another, eyes snapping like electric cords before looking back to Nina. You dug your sharp nails into his thigh as he bit back a groan. “It’s still early days.”

“Early days?” Alina scoffed, raising her dark brows. “It’s been…what, three years now? Rather long for a royal engagement.” She laughed. No one in the group usually mentioned the fact that the both of you were royals, and the reminder sometimes stung. “Mal and I have been engaged for like two months and we’re getting married within the next few weeks.” Then she gasped, reaching out to take your hand. “You have to be a bridesmaid! Please please pleaaaase?”

She’d already asked you in her letter, the one she’d sent to Nikolai, addressed to the both of you. He’d sent a copy to Fjerda, along with his plea for the both of you to play nice and see Alina so there was no confusion about your relationship before her special day.

“I’ll try my best.” You said, smiling tightly as you squeezed her hand. Nikolai had already agreed to be Mal’s best man but to be honest? You wouldn’t be attending that wedding. You couldn’t stomach it.

“Oh please please come on!”

“Alina.” Nina mumbled, shooting the girl a look, and Alina raised a brow.

“What?”

“Let her breathe. She’s travelled a long way.” The Heartrender said, smiling as she slid all-too-knowing eyes to yours. You looked away, hoping she couldn’t see the pain in your eyes as you pressed your cheek against Nikolai’s shoulder, breathing him in.

The others began discussing wedding preparations when Nikolai’s fingers began to run across the nape of your neck, threading through your hair. When you looped you arms around his waist as if to snuggle him, you were surprised to see goosebumps jump up on the skin of his arm. And then you were surprised to hear his slight intake of breath, his hand that wasn’t on your neck moving under the table to touch your knee.

You swallowed.

“What do you think, Nik?” Mal asked, and the prince blinked quickly.

“Hmm?”

“About going on the Volkvolny. For the honeymoon?”

“Oh.” Nikolai’s brows knit. “You and Alina or—?”

“Duh.” Alina laughed, but she looked confused. “Aren’t you listening?”

“Of course, sorry. That sounds great.”

“Thank you.” Mal told him with a genuine smile, and then your breath caught when his hand pushed the hem of your dress up, only far enough to slide against the smooth skin of your knee.

You missed his touch. God you missed it, but… You moved away from him and stood, giving the others a sorrowful look that was easy not to fake.

“I’m feeling sick, guys. I’m sorry.” You said, a hand on your stomach. You were queasy, actually. “I’m gonna go to the Inn. See you for breakfast?”

“Yeah..” Alina smiled faintly, but it dropped when you left, headed out into the night sky.

You’d barely been ten seconds out the door before Nikolai sprinted after you, grabbing your hand. You ripped it away and whirled to him, holding your hands up in a placating gesture. He was breathing a bit heavily, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you.

“What is it?” He asked, scanning you with his eyes. “Are you sick? Do you need to puke or—”

“Just go inside, Nikolai. I just want to go to bed, okay?”

“Alina was excited to talk to you about the wedding. She has all these plans and—”

”I’m not going to the wedding.” You snapped, staring at him like he was crazy person. “I’ll be in Fjerda by then. I have a life now, Nik.”

He swallowed.

“But she’s your friend. Your best friend.”

“She used to be my best friend.” You argued. “She hasn’t seen me since—” you paused. “It doesn’t matter.” You turned and he once again jumped in front of you, halting your tracks.

“What do you mean used to?”

God did you have to spell it out for him?

“My friends are your friends.” You said, shaking your head. “When you broke off the engagement you effectively cut me off from all of my existing friendships. Cant you see that?”

“Oh.” He said dumbly and you pushed past him again. He still trailed after you though. “But cant you try to make it?” He asked, even as you gritted your teeth. “It’s a special day for her and—”

“And what?” You were stunned by the sharpness by your tone, more so by the sound of a barely suppressed sob in your throat. Nikolai looked alarmed as well. “And watch you stand up beside an altar? All while I’m sitting there, picturing me beside you? I—” you covered your hand with your mouth and turned away, shaking your head. “No. I’m not going to the wedding with you, Nikolai. I’m not going to go anywhere near a wedding with you, ever.”

“You cannot mean that.”

“Then read my lips.” You turned, glaring fiercely, barely a foot from the prince. “I’d. Rather. Die.”

This time he didn’t follow, not as you hurried back to the Inn, eager to go to sleep. You’d leave in the morning, you decided. And as you curled up in the cold bed, empty and vast around you, you fell asleep the way you usually did, counting down, imagining it was his arms hugging you to sleep instead of your own.

You jolted awake around four in the morning to a warm body pressed to your back. At first you thought you were dreaming, but no. Nikolai’s soft breaths stirred the hair at the back of your neck, his face buried in your shoulder as he slept. His arm was looped around your waist, hoping you tight against him. You were tense but then, against better judgement, relaxed into his hold.

It’d been so long. Long enough for you to pretend, at least for one sleepy moment, that this was real. That he still loved you. That he still… still…

You woke again, eyes snapping open to see light in the windows. You heard a groan and tensed up again. Nikolai’s legs had become tangled with yours, your head resting on his bicep as both his arms wrapped around you. You had no idea how you’d gotten like that but it felt so good, you didn’t dare move.

“Y/N…” Nikolai mumbled against your neck and you waited for him to tense up. To pull away. Instead, he pressed a kiss against your bare shoulder, revealed by your nightgown, and you got chills, your stomach twisting. “Missed this..missed…you.”

“You’re just half asleep.” You argued, voice a faint whisper. You heard an incoherent mumble and felt a slow nod that made you frown.

“Didn’t want to go…” he moaned, holding you closer, “…made…me..” and then a soft snore left him, and your eyes were so wide you didn’t know what to do or think.

“Nik?” You asked, heart hammering, but he was fast asleep. “Nik?”

You laid for a moment, mind whirling, before you sat up. You shook him roughly, pushing his arms off of you, and he groaned as he rubbed his eyes.

“My love.” He grumbled, still half asleep. “It’s early.”

“Don’t call me—“ you paused, exasperated. “What the fuck were you saying? Who made you? Made you do what?”

This time his eyes opened, reality sinking visibly into his expression as he sat up, his sleepy face growing hard. He shook his head quickly, slinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Nothing. I was dreaming.”

“But you…” You swallowed. “Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re lying.”

“I’m taking a shower.” He mumbled, pulling away when you touched his arm, and you watched him pad sleepily into the bathroom, his shoulders stiff.

Afterwards, after waiting in tense silence for almost twenty minutes, he slunk out of the bathroom, blue eyes meeting yours. His chest was bare and—and—

“What the—” You stood up quickly, moving forward. Your eyes drank in the skin of him, yes, but they lingered on the scar on his shoulder. A fresh, still pink scar, slightly raised. A bullet wound. “When did this happen?” You breathed, eyes meeting his own. Searching.

He swallowed.

“I um..” he trailed off, looking away from you with a look of shame on his face. “I cant talk about it.”

“Nikolai.”

“Im not allowed, Y/N, okay? It’s not important.” He moved past you to grab a shirt, getting dressed quickly. You didn’t look lower than his waistline as he dropped the towel, tugging trousers up his hips. “Let’s just meet up with Alina and Mal, alright? I don’t want to cause drama for them.”

“For them?” You stared at his back, tense even through the fabric. “You got shot and you don’t want to cause drama for them?” Your throat grew tight. “What about me?”

“This isn’t about you.”

“Then what is it about, Nikolai? Because the last time I saw you, you certainly hadn’t had that—”

“Just leave it, Y/N.” He snapped, voice sharper than you’d ever heard it. You hated the immediate well of tears that rose in your eyes at his tone; never ever had he ever spoken to you even slightly rudely. Never.

“Fine.” You sniffed and turned on your heel, slamming the bathroom door shut behind you.

You didn’t go to breakfast.

You refused, adamantly, to be in the same room as him if he wasn’t going to start telling the truth. He was annoyed at first, telling you it was only for a day more, and then pissed, accusing you of being dramatic, and finally, finally he was pleading with you.

“Y/N.” He groaned, following you as you stormed out of the Inn, bag in hand as you walked through the drizzling rain towards the docks. “It’s raining. Go back inside.” You ignored him and he moved quicker to cut you off, his expression pinched. “Please. Just stay with me. Come inside.”

“Stay with you?” Your laugh was so cruel he flinched. “After all your lies and mind games? No. I’m done with you. I never should have come here.”

“Please.” He begged again, reaching out to touch your arms, then stopped himself. “Please. Just—it’s just another day with me, okay?”

“Why did you ask me to come, Nik?” You demanded, angry and hurt. You were exhausted, above all else. “Why couldn’t you have just left me alone? Told the others it didn’t work out?”

“Because.” He was breathing heavily, staring down at you as rain ran down across the curve of his cheekbone and jaw. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t tell them.”

“Why?” You asked, and when he didn’t answer, you nodded. “Of course. More of you not answering me—”

“I wanted to see you.” He blurt out, expression pinched. “I wanted—“ he stopped, shaking his head. “I wanted to see you again. I couldn’t let myself let you go.”

“You have to.” You told him, but there was a pleading note in your own voice as well. “I cant—I cant keep loving you. You have to stop this.”

“I cant.”

“Well then you never should’ve left me!”

“They made me!” He snapped, moving closer. “I’m a solider, Y/N! And when the border skirmishes got worse they were losing soldiers every day.” At your confused look he continued, looking like a man with words threatening to explode from him. “I had no choice. I had to go fight.”

“Then why—”

“Because I couldn’t marry you and leave you alone.” He forced out, his voice dragging over a lump in his throat. “I couldn’t—” he choked and looked away, rubbing his eyes. “If I’d have died and you were left alone, I…I couldn’t let that happen. So I cut you loose.”

You stared at him, tears filling your own eyes.

“And the bullet?”

“I was shot. At the border. I thought I wasn’t going to make it and I’d never been so glad I sent you back to Fjerda. You could’ve fallen in love with someone else. You could’ve been happy.”

“Why didn’t you send for me?” You cried, dropping your bag to the ground. “When you healed—you could have sent for me.”

“I did.” He told you, expression agonized. “And my ambassadors refused to send a single letter until I gave them Alina’s.” He swallowed, reaching out to touch your wet cheek. “I’ve thought about you every single day.”

You felt yourself short of breath.

“And now?” You asked, glancing down at the ring. “Now you’ll send me away again? After all this?”

He peered at you, seeming to deflate.

“How can you even want me?” He asked, and you shook your head, unable to speak as you buried yourself into his chest, his arms looping tight around you as you cried. “I love you. I have always loved you. Every second, every breath I take I yearn for you.”

“I would have stayed.” You whispered, feeling his hands run down your back. “Through anything.”

You heard him sniff before he pulled back, tilting your face up to his.

“Will you still stay now?” He asked, his voice a broken plea. “I cannot live any longer without you by my side.” He brought your hand to his shoulder, over the scar, your palm flattening against his coat. “I would take a thousand of these for you. I would fight every day of my life to keep you with me. Just forgive me, princess. Stay.”

You could only look up at him, your heart cleaving as he bent down and kissed you, and the contact after so long was almost unbearable. The two of you seized one another desperately, tears mixing with the rain. And you would, you decided, as Nikolai’s lips promised you his life. His soul.

You’d stay.

see I told you guys I have a hard time not getting carried away LOL

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #wattpad #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #six of crows #nikolai lantsov angst #angst

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starcrossedxwriter · 2 months

Text

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: Ummm so welcome backkk! This is 11.1 because there's a second part to this chapter (I know... my self control keeps getting worse lolol) But I hope you enjoy!

TW: grief

“I’m never fucking drinking again,” Raven moaned to herself as she stumbled out of the comforts of bed. She felt like hell, if hell had a truck run over its head a few dozen times.

Raven generally considered herself an early riser but nothing could pull her out of bed that morning after what was, objectively, the dumbest night of her life. Part of her wished she had had one or two more drinks so she could have officially transitioned into the ‘blackout drunk’ phase. So that she would, at least, be spared the embarrassing memories. But no, every horrible moment of the night from dancing wildly at the bar to Michael saving her was etched into the crevices of her brain with shocking clarity.

Now, it was after noon and Raven still found herself wanting to be curled under her blanket asleep so she could escape her embarrassment.

A knock at the door pulled her out of her wallowing self pity. She did not make an attempt to move, expecting Tiffany to answer. However, when the voice of their landlord rang out and her knocking persisted, she quickly slid on her robe to open the door. She decided Mrs. Winters would have to get over the fact that she looked like death reincarnated.

“Rough night, dear?”

Raven grimaced for a moment, she did indeed look as terrible as she felt.

“Something like that,” Raven offered a tight smile, her body slumping against the door. “W-what can I do for you, Mrs. Winters?”

“Oh I’m just letting everyone know that we had a pipe burst on the floor above. We’ll have folks in and out and you might hear some noise and stuff. But if you see any leaking into your unit, give me a ring?”

“Of course. Will do. Thanks, have a good one,” Raven tried her best to politely shoo the woman away. However, she lingered.

“Oh I meant to tell you, that boyfriend of yours is just such a good egg. So kind and polite. Admittedly I haven’t met many famous people,” she laughed. “But you just don’t expect them to have such good manners, you know?”

Raven stopped. “My boyfriend?? Sorry… When was he here?”

“He stopped by this morning. Gave me a check for your rent for the rest of your lease. Oh and asked where your mailbox was, said he wanted to drop something in it.”

Raven was worried her jaw might come completely unhinged as the woman spoke.

He did what??

“Are you alright, dear??”

“Y-Yea, yea. Just… a bit of a surprise. Thank you.”

And with that, Raven immediately closed the door, not listening to the elderly woman’s reply.

“This nigga… I hate him,” she muttered to herself as she slumped against her door.

Every cell in her body knew that was not true. But she also knew that everything she had told him last night was still accurate. She was too tired to forgive him and not just him… anyone ever again. The world has used up all of her second chances and she did not have it in her heart to be disappointed by him again. The narrative in her brain was so set in stone, she did not think anything he could say or do would make her believe anything else. She could not even make herself go retrieve the note that was apparently waiting for her in her mailbox.

“Such a coward,” she grumbled as she flopped back into bed.

She stared at her phone for several minutes, her text thread with Michael open. She wondered what she could even say? Thank you?

She knew any conversations demanding she pay him back or he rescind the money would be moot. Even if she had the mental fortitude to argue with him right now, she would still lose. But she could not just accept it without trying to push back.

She typed and erased and typed and erased before lamely landing on:

Raven: You can’t pay my entire rent. I can’t accept that.

Raven: I don’t want that.

Michael: Yea you can. Told you… gonna show up every day tryin’ to fix us. You just gotta let me.

Raven: Money isn’t gonna fix this, Michael.

Michael: I know. But it can fix the tangible things I fucked up for you

Michael: So let me fix that for you.

Raven paused, as a warm sensation filled her, a warmth she had not felt in over a month now. The warmth of being cared for. She had never had someone take care of her without wanting something in return, except Michael. Even when their relationship was built on transactions, he still took care of her without needing or asking for something from her. The book deal, her rent were just the tangible examples of how he had stepped up to right the wrongs he could and she could not deny that those actions meant something, softened something inside her.

He was doing exactly what he promised he would do the night before. He was fixing what could be, he was showing with his actions that she meant something to him. And yet, that blockade that stopped that belief from taking root was still there, still prohibiting her from believing these actions were anything more than a skilled manipulation.

He would draw her back in, he would not change, and when he got ready, he would hurt her again. That’s what everyone in her life did.

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

She tossed her phone to the side and grabbed her pillow, screaming into it as her frustration got the better of her. The complex web of conflicting feelings with Michael B. Jordan trapped at its center only continued to grow. She wanted him to let her go, to stop caring and trying and going out of his way for her because that fit into the narrative nailed to the cross of her brain, it would confirm her beliefs and fears.

But instead he continued to do the things that made her fall in love with him the first time, things that only reignited the dimmed but still existent flame that was her love for him. And she knew she would never get over him if she kept letting that happen, kept letting him in.

So she did not even respond. Instead, she just closed the thread and tossed her phone to the side.

“Let him go, Rae,” she demanded to herself. “You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t love you.” She repeated that a few times before it felt real again, before all that had started to soften was once again as solid as a block of ice.

***

“You look like shit,” Alex moaned as she watched Michael’s makeup artist, Shanta, struggle to make him look less like a living zombie ahead of his Oprah interview.

They were tucked away in a suite in Oprah's sprawling LA estate. It was difficult to make Michael feel poor but Oprah was certainly one of the few people in the world who could do so.

“Thanks, appreciate that.”

“You know I don’t believe in lying to you. Make sure you get those bags under his eyes,” she instructed. “Alright, this is it. Final stretch. Movie’s out and every review is stellar so far. Do this interview, it’ll air this week, Oscars on Sunday and then you can sleep. Though I bet it’s not the schedule keeping you up? Talked to her since the premiere?”

Michael forced his body not to sag at the mention of Raven as to not disturb the hard work of the woman trying to make him look alive after days of no sleep.

“She texted me about the rent thing the next morning. But it’s been radio silence ever since.”

It had only been a few days since the fiasco after the premiere but Michael’s concern for Raven had not diminished one bit. He could not let her go as she requested but he tried his hardest to respect her desire for space. His heart was stuck in the quicksand that was Raven and he had no desire to pull himself out. He wanted to be right there. He knew eventually he would have to accept defeat, accept that she had moved on. But he could not do it while she still questioned her own deservedness. She could hate him for the rest of his life, it would be her right. But his soul could not allow her to live thinking so lowly of herself. So if he had to pay 30 years of rent or call in favors to make her life easier and make her see that she deserved care and someone to sacrifice for her, he would do it. It was high time someone in her life put her above themselves.

“Well, at least she talked to you. That’s something. You’re doing what she asked. Sis has lived a life, she needs time and space. Keep doing what you're doing. Except for the no sleep. For the love of God, by the Oscars, please get a good night’s rest. That’s your night.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Alex…”

She scoffed. “You’ve won the big four, Mike. It’s not just because I believe you deserve it… Statistically, Best Actor is yours. The Oscars is your night. Have a little faith in yourself.”

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-”

“Excuse me?” A young man poked his head in the door. “Apologies for interrupting. I’m a PA. Just wanted to let you know that we’re almost ready? I can take you out to the garden when you’re ready.”

“Be right out. Thank you,” Alex called.

Shanta did her last quick finishing touches before Alex gave him her customary once over.

“Shanta, my girl, you’re a miracle worker per usual.”

They both offered Shanta their thanks, Michael rolling his shoulders before heading out the door to walk out to the gardens.

He had met and interviewed with Oprah once before so he was not particularly nervous. But despite having done millions of interviews, there was always a kernel of nerves right beforehand that he could just never shake.

He was dressed in slacks and a light black sweater, thankful for a cooler day as he walked out into her expansive gardens where the Oprah Winfrey waited for him. The cameras were already rolling, capturing footage that may or may not make into the hour-long special.

“The man of the hour!” she called, her arms stretched wide to wrap Michael in a hug. “Actually I think man of the year is more appropriate. Welcome. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you here.”

“Thank you, thank you. It’s so good to be here.”

“Have a seat,” she gestured at the very comfy chair across from hers. “And we can jump right in.”

***

Raven’s head was propped against her fist as she stared at her computer. A sentence. That was the grand total of her hard work for that Wednesday afternoon. But it was something, she supposed. Weeks of hard work had amounted to maybe two or three pages of her book. She had been offering Angelina vague answers on her progress, ducking and dodging her to avoid admitting that there was no way in hell she could have a draft by March 15 like they talked about.

“Rae? You busy?”

She turned in her chair toward the door to find Tiffany’s head poking in.

“Nope… I’ll never be busy again at this rate,” she grumbled. “What’s up?”

“I just turned on the interview… if you want to watch?”

Raven scratched her head, unsure if she could even watch him? See him happy and thriving without her? Despite everything happening between them though, she could not pretend there was not a part of her that still wanted to celebrate this moment in his career. Interviewing with Oprah the week he was poised to win his first Oscar? How could she ever forgive herself if she did not watch this? Even if it hurts?

“I’ll… be there in a sec. Thanks, Tiff.”

Raven let out a deep sigh before she grabbed the blanket off her bed and dragged herself to the living room. The interview had already started and he looked gorgeous. Tired, she could tell, in the way he constantly had to readjust his posture, in the bags under his eyes that the makeup artist could not quite fully cover. But even at his worst, he looked captivatingly good.

Raven found herself studying him so intently that she did not even comprehend the words he and Oprah were sharing. She just watched him and his mannerisms, she focused on the glimmer in his eyes that sparked every so often. She missed looking into his eyes, missed how expressive they were.

This moment only amplified how much she missed him, missed hearing the deep baritone in his voice and the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his passions. She missed his bright and uninhibited laughter, how his hands were always on her in some way. She just missed him. But she had pushed him away, had told him to let her go. And even if he had not fully let go of her yet, she felt too scared to open that door again, even if her soul ached for her to. Particularly when he continued to try to show up for her in small ways.

And despite how angry she still wanted to be at him, she had never had anyone show up for her quite like this… try for her like he did. And everyday, her brain took up far more mental space than it should have, debating whether she should follow her foolish heart and forgive him or listen to her logical brain and cast him aside. Days passed and she still did not know the answer.

“So I’ll admit,” Raven’s ears finally started to pick up the conversation between Oprah and Michael, “I watched Waves more times than appropriate. But Gayle and I saw it at Sundance and we both thought it was just the most heartbreaking and poignant look at loss and grief that we had ever seen. While still being engaging and funny and so relatable. The journey your character goes through is just… I mean I think grief is one of the few universal experiences that we all will have at some point. And you really brought that to life through this character and his struggles with addiction. And the fact that you filmed this while engaged in completely different projects with complex characters like Killmonger in Black Panther and Adonis in Creed 3… I’m curious what you pulled from to give that performance?”

Michael shifted in his seat as he chuckled, Raven had missed how passionate he got about this project, even though he had been talking about it and doing press for it since they first started dating. She knew he had not truly expected the role to blow up in the ways it did but she could tell he was grateful for it, nonetheless.

“Well first, thank you. Yea aside from Oscar Grant, Andre was the hardest character I’ve ever played and he stretched me as an actor in ways, you know, I didn’t really expect? And I learned so much from him in his sort of journey through grief. You know, when I read the first script, the line ‘grief is the final stage in love’s evolution,’ really stuck out to me. When you lose someone, grief, this enduring pain you feel, is that love shifting and changing because it has nowhere to go, there’s no outlet for it anymore. And so, Andre really reframed my own thoughts on grief and loss and how I process that and allowed me to pull from personal experiences with loss to pour into that character.”

“Yea I will say, that line was one of my favorites. I sat with that long after the credits rolled.”

“Yea same. I remember sitting a-and thinking about that one for a while after reading it. And I loved that even in the more comedic moments of this movie, we still had those lines that made you wanna stop and really sit with what the characters were going through.”

“Definitely, I was dissecting this movie for weeks after. It’s just amazing. So I do want to shift gears to talk about this moment you're experiencing because of this movie. This really is the biggest moment of your career. You’re nominated for your first Oscar and a favorite to win, so far in 2023, you’ve won a SAG Award, Golden Globe, and BAFTA. And you, as of two days ago, just had your directorial debut in Creed 3. First question, how are you still awake?” Both of them shared a laugh. “But serious question, how has this moment felt? How does it feel to be having this moment at this stage of your career?”

“Oh wow, when you list it like that, I don’t know how I’m awake either,” he chuckled. “But seriously, you know… it’s been a ride. I know you’ve felt this too but you know, you don’t often take a moment to just pause and soak it in. You finish one interview or award show and your mind automatically just jumps to the next one. And I think what I’ve been trying to force myself to do in the later weeks of this insane time is just to slow down and enjoy it. Not rush through it and really enjoy the fruits of… really years of hard work and sacrifice. But that also means sitting with… you know, the challenges of this time too, which isn’t as rewarding,” he admitted with a sad smile. “But I’m growing and learning alot so it’s worth it.”

Oprah nodded. “You know I always appreciate when people don’t let the 24 hour news cycle and gossip sort of steal their thunder and moment from them. And I applaud you for sort of moving through the more gossipy side of the last few months with grace and maturity. But you haven’t really talked much publicly about those stories and the effect they have had on you. And you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want but I am curious on how you navigated that and really came out on the other side, from what I can see, stronger for it?”

Michael bowed his head and chuckled. “Um… you know a good friend of mine told me that she thought this was the most vulnerable and most genuine I had ever been publicly on this press tour and I think it’s because I’ve had to navigate some really personal stuff during this great but hectic public moment? And that’s new territory for me.”

“And I think that friend is right. I don’t think we have seen or learned this much about you ever.”

“Yea and I wish I could take some credit for it but… it was all one person: Raven Turner. And the way we met, now as the world knows, was extremely unconventional and I can admit that our relationship started as a complete lie. A lie I thought would help me be seen as this serious, mature man my team was worried I wasn’t. And I wasn’t,” he admitted. “I was cold and guarded and not at all the best version of myself. And while I regret how we started and trying to fool the world into thinking I’m something I’m not, there isn’t a bone in my body that regrets falling in love with her.”

He leaned forward a bit as he spoke. “Because all those walls and barriers we build around ourselves to survive in this world of Hollywood? To endure the criticisms and insanity we deal with? She's the first woman to see me. Not the actor and the money and the fame but just me. And in that, she saved me… without trying or intending to. She just loved me and loving her, choosing her is the single greatest decision I ever made. And I hate how this moment has fallen on her, how my terrible decisions led to these pretty disgusting misogynistic attacks on her. And I think my biggest regret is putting someone as pure as her in the line of fire like that and not doing enough to protect her. And you know, I have to live with that, which is tough.”

“You know I’ve interviewed thousands of people in my career and while I believe you have to change for yourself and on your own, I also have found that the ones who love us, really love us, are often the most powerful catalysts for change in our lives. I’ve certainly seen and experienced that in my own life and it’s important to spotlight those who were that catalyst.”

“Oh 100%. Especially when, I think this version of me was always there? I was just too hurt to trust anyone with it, so no one saw it. I buried me under this facade I thought was better? But I fell in love with a woman who taught me that you can’t be guarded, you can’t shut down just because you’re hurt. Life is about getting up every day, being authentically you, and reaching out and loving and risking your heart every time. And sometimes you’ll get swatted away and sometimes you’ll get an embrace. But you just deny yourself love when you don’t show up at all. So I’ve been trying to live by that more lately. Because she showed me what real strength and courage looks like. And I want to have that, I want to lead with that.”

“Wow… you know people are going to watch this and I think, applaud that vulnerability. It’s refreshing to me because I don’t think our world incentivizes or encourages people to admit when they aren’t being their best selves. So I think for you to do that, at a moment when you’re at the top of your game, is commendable.”

“She deserves to know the positive effect she’s had on my life. To be celebrated for how she supported me. And you know it’s not just me? When we first started dating, I remember her one stipulation was that we couldn’t go out on Wednesday evenings because she hosted a book club for kids at the library she worked at. And that was the most important thing to her, being there for them. The day of our first date, she spent an hour delivering books and SAT prep books to those same kids she worked just because. There’s just a selflessness to her that is truly admirable. And I think while people are attacking her and calling her these vile names because she made a certain choice during a hard time, they should know who she really is. A woman that would drop everything to help you even when you don’t really deserve it. A woman who I’ve seen give others all she had because they needed it more even when she did not have a backup plan for herself. I could honestly talk about her for the rest of this interview because she deserves celebration far more than I ever could. Genuinely good people don’t always get the shine they deserve, they don’t always get the love and care they deserve because we can often take them for granted. But no one deserves to be celebrated more than her, to be celebrated loudly more than she does.”

“I love that… she seems like quite the woman.”

“She is… and I hope she knows that.”

“So tell me about…”

The words faded away as his words tumbled through Raven’s head. They clashed jarringly against every belief she had internalized about herself, like metal against metal. But she found herself wanting to believe him. Believe the words a section of the world just heard. She wanted to believe that what he saw in her, even over the course of six months, was who she truly was. Not this broken, damaged scapegoat life had fashioned her into.

There has to be more than this, right?

Tiffany nudged her with a box of tissues in her hand. Raven had not even realized she was crying but she accepted them gratefully.

“Don’t know how I still have tears over this man left,” she whispered as she wiped her eyes.

“I don’t think those tears are because of him, sis.”

Raven sniffled and grabbed another tissue. “You m-might be onto something. I can’t watch anymore. Night, Tiffany.”

However, before she reached her bedroom, she heard Tiffany call her name.

“I know what he did… sucks. And hurts. But that’s a man who loves you, Rae. More than anything. After that? The only person in the world who still won’t believe it is you.”

She turned around to face her, the back of her hand wiping away a few more stray tears. “You know he said the same thing?”

“Well, I generally don’t think actors are that smart,” Tiffany admitted with a laugh. “But he’s right about that. You deserve to believe good things about yourself, we all do.”

“Nothing good has ever lasted… I always ruin it somehow. I tried to believe I deserved him and life proved that I didn’t,” she answered, her voice small. “D-Don’t have it in me to try again.”

“Raven… I know we aren’t best friends or anything. But how many times have I watched you forgiven your dad and sister? Let them back in, try to make things right with them? Try to build the family you want?”

“Too many…”

“Right… So why does Michael only get one shot when you found the strength to give them 100? When he’s the one actually showing up for you? He’s the one who actually is trying to earn another chance?”

“It’s not that simple and you know it.”

“I know that the only person denying you happiness right now… is you. You push away the good people and things in your life because you feel like you don’t deserve it but no one would be here if you didn’t. Michael, the kids in your book club… me. I don’t keep signing leases with you because you’re a terrible person who ruins everything, no one has a gun to our heads, Rae. We’re here because you do deserve it.”

“Tiff…”

“Nope, shut up. This pity party is getting old and tired. It doesn’t matter what I think of you… or what Michael thinks or anyone out there.” She gestured toward the window. “All that matters is the narrative you’ve created and until you decide to believe something else, all you’re going to do is push people away and fuck up and self sabotage because it’s all you think you deserve. You gotta wake up and do some fucking work, girl. Cause until you figure out how to erase this narrative from your brain, you’ll never be happy. And you’ll never fall in love with anyone except for someone who treats you like crap. You’ll never build your own family. You’ll never finish your book or have another fulfilling career. You’ll just be stuck in this broken version of yourself alone… forever. And I’ve seen a few different versions of you over the last two years but this is by far the most pitiful.”

Raven had never heard Tiffany be so blunt. The words were biting but she could not deny that some of them rang true in her ears. And that was always the hardest information to hear.

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.”

“The soft gentle love wasn’t resonating clearly so had to go with a different tactic…. Just think about it. And once you fix all this shit and move to a mansion in the hills, don’t forget about me.” She winked at her, causing Raven’s jaw to drop slightly.

“How do you even know that’s gonna happen?”

She shrugged and grabbed the remote to press play, Raven not even noticing that she paused it.

“Just got a good feeling about the two of you. Now go so I can lust after him in peace while he's still single. Kidding! Kinda..."

Raven let out a small laugh as she shook her head. "I know you're not kidding. Night, Tiff.”

She slid into her bed, her only refuge of late, and stared at the ceiling. She was surprised she was not tired of looking at it by now. Michael and Tiffany’s words wrestled with her own thoughts for hours

What was her problem, really? It was not that what Michael did was unforgivable because it wasn’t. Some distant part of her, too quiet to break through the noise of her anger, always wondered if there was more to the story, believed that he had to have had some reason. But she was too angry to allow him to explain. It just became vicious ammunition that no one could ever love her or care about her… that she was the problem.

Well, that’s true… no one’s ever loved you. And everyone who does leaves.

She supposed her mother must have loved her, but she would never know. She would never feel it. And her grandmother’s love was so distant, so long ago, that it no longer felt tangible, was no longer a tether to anchor her self worth to something positive.

Instead, the only thing that tethered her sense of self worth to anything was her family’s disdain. Disdain that made her question what Michael could’ve seen in her, how he could ever love someone like her? That disdain which made it far easier to believe that what he did was proof that he did not love her than that he possibly did do it to protect her in some weird way. No other thought could live long enough in her brain to take hold.

And she did not know if doing what Tiffany suggested would fix that. There was not enough time in the world for her muster the courage to interrogate and confront the source of these feelings. She had hoped she would never have to see her family again. Some days, never felt like too soon.

But she knew she could not avoid it. They were the root cause, the narrative in her head was fueled and sustained by them. And screaming at them across the Thanksgiving table and never speaking to them again was not the closure she needed. She thought she had dropped the weight that was her family when she cut them off. But she was still dragging all the luggage they gave her around and it was time to give it back.

She knew her family did not want to see her either, knew it would be difficult to get them to even speak to her after everything. But she knew she had to try… because she knew there had to be more to life than this. That she had not been born to only suffer through life instead of live it. So she needed to confront her demons for herself, even if her relationship with them did not change one bit.

She grabbed her computer and her wallet. It was time to go home.

***

Raven’s eyes remained trained on her dad’s house across the street as she sat in her rental car. She was almost shocked that none of her family’s nosy neighbors had not called the police yet as she sat there for nearly an hour, summoning the courage to actually go inside.

She had felt so sure this was what she needed when she bought her plane ticket. And that confidence did not waver when she stepped onto the plane or during the long journey from LAX to Charlotte, NC. However, once she was in her rental car, she found herself waffling, aimlessly driving around for hours. Her brain seemed unable to direct her to the place she knew she needed to go. Home.

She just could not make herself do it… not yet anyway. So she did not. Instead, she finally went to her hotel to try to get some rest and her night’s rest turned into the entire Friday holed up in her hotel. She had not booked a return ticket, prayerful and hopeful that there would be a reason to stick around for a few days. But that also meant she did not have the incentive of time to make her move faster.

But she could not even make herself do this. Because she did not know how to be brave like this. Her life had been nothing but running from pain and confrontation. This was so contrary to that. She did not know how to do any of this. She tossed and turned all night, unable to get any sleep particularly when there was only one person who she wanted to talk to, wanted to seek courage and strength from. Because when she felt scared, when she did not feel strong, he was the only person she wanted to reach for. But she was not sure he would even answer. She had pushed him away, told him she needed space.

But she had not felt like she could do this alone. So last night, she called him.

“Rae! Everything ok?” he asked immediately, his question met with silence.

Raven did not know what to say and regret filled her like ice water in her veins. But she knew it was too late to hang up, she had to see it through. She paid for that moment of weakness when she hit the call button as her throat closed at the sound of her voice. She found it impossible to speak, even if she knew what words to say.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready, Rae. Got all night for you.”

And she knew he was not just talking about waiting for her to speak.

“Why?” she whispered, the simple word coming out in a strangled sound as she tried to push past the tightness in her throat.

“Why what?”

“Why even answer after everything I said to you? W-why do you keep trying?”

“Because I love you,” he answered simply. “And you’re worth it. I’ll keep reaching out, baby girl. Even when you swat me away.”

“You might be the only person who thinks that,” she whispered back as a tear fell.

“I don’t think that’s true. But even if it was, knowing one person is in your corner is all you need sometimes.”

She laughed lightly. “That press tour got you only speaking in motivational boxing terms or something?”

His deep laughter filled her ears and filled her soul with such joy that she had forgotten. She had forgotten what these moments felt like, the two of them on the phone or curled up together in bed, just talking. She missed it… she missed him. But she could not say it, could not bring herself to pull her body out of the water to make that long trek back up the cliff to where he waited for her. Everything in her brain screamed at her that she couldn’t do it, that she did not have it in her. And she hated herself for it. Hated how she clung to the ice barriers around her heart, even though they were utterly fractured and ready to fall. She just was not ready yet.

She let out a shuddering breath as she hastily wiped away her falling tears. “I… don’t know why I called. I s-shouldn’t have called.”

“Call me anytime, Rae. I’ll always answer. I’ll always show up for you. I hope you know that… at least.”

“Y-Yea… I think I do… or at least, it’s getting harder to deny it,” she revealed. “Your interview with Oprah… it was really good,” she offered lamely.

“You watched??” she could hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yea… I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But I caught most of it. Did you mean it? Everything you said?”

“Every single word.” There was no arguing with the definitive tone in his voice. “I get that you don’t trust me anymore. I lied and kept secrets. But one thing I never lied about is how much I love you.”

Her eyes clenched shut for a moment. That was one thing he had always been consistent about, her ears had just been perpetually shut to it.

“I… um… I gotta go. Early day tomorrow,” she lied as she sniffled. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Bye, Michael.”

She was not sure what she had expected to get from that call and, at first, it felt as if she only got a firm kick in the heart for it. But for the first time since she landed, Raven had enough strength to finally drive to her family��s house. She had rolled her eyes at his boxing motivational quotes but hearing someone say they were in her corner, that had given her courage. To just feel like someone was behind her, even if she was alone, that meant something to her.

She took a deep breath and got out of her car, forcing her legs to carry her to the front door.

Her rounds of knocks went unanswered, Raven getting slightly frustrated but determined not to leave the porch. If she turned around and walked away, she’d never come back.

After an extremely brief internal debate, she decided to simply let herself in, deciding that since she contributed to the mortgage, she had a right to come in as she pleased. And her father still, foolishly, kept a spare key underneath the welcome mat.

Though she had not been to her family’s home in two years or so, it still looked the same. Her father’s favorite work boots were thrown haphazardly at the door, several pairs of her sister’s shoes lined up next to them. She was an utter mess but she was, at least, somewhat neat. And it still felt… cold. And it had nothing to do with the cold winter east coast weather. The house had always felt like that, void of warmth and love that made a home a home.

“Kiara?” she called out. “Dad?” However, she was met with utter silence.

Part of her supposed she was thankful they were not home and that they had not just ignored her or something. She stood in the living room, staring around the room at the pictures that lined the walls and shelves. So many of her mom, her dad, and Kiara but there were none of her. That was not a surprise, it had always been that way. But that did not make it sting any less. All they had ever wanted was to erase her from their lives and if a stranger walked into this house, it would be as if she never existed.

She started up the stairs, her eyes refusing to linger long on any of the photos there. They were all lies anyway, a picture perfect family that did not exist because she had been born. She decided to ascend to the attic once she made it upstairs. Because that was where all her grandmother’s and some of her own things now lived. She had never really gone through her grandmother’s things after she passed, no one aside from her dad to pack them up. But she knew there was so much of their lives, so many memories she had forgotten of the one person who loved her, forgotten in those boxes that she now desperately needed to remember.

She ignored how narrow the opening to the attic was, realizing that it had been easier to maneuver up here when she was a young teenager. Everything was still neatly packed away as if her grandmother would be back one day to pick it up.

She started to open each box, pulling out and examining her grandmother’s things, so many beautiful things forgotten in this attic no one went into. For the first time in nearly two decades, she felt close to the only maternal figure she had ever had, felt like her grandmother’s hand was on her shoulder as she reminisced on their short but well-lived time together.

She found the old costume jewelry her grandmother used to let her play with, laughing to herself as she thought back to dressing up in front of her vanity mirror pretending to be a model or whatever silly idea the pair had thought up. She almost cried as she found a very crumpled piece of paper with the last story she gave her grandmother to read before she died, a random short story that she had written for class. She had not realized, as she found a folder, just how many of her stories her grandmother had kept.

A gold glint caught her attention, Raven reaching into a giant box to find a shoe box. Raven had seen that box 100 times but her grandmother had never let her touch it, claiming that it held priceless family heirlooms that she did not want Raven or Kiara to mess up. Raven rolled her eyes that something her grandmother had valued so much had been discarded and forgotten haphazardly at the bottom of this box.

Finally giving into her childhood curiosity, she opened it. It was still filled with things, part of her thankful that Kiara had never found it. The jewelry and pieces in it were gorgeous and indeed priceless. She took her time as she examined each one, wondering if they had belonged to her mother or her grandmother or some other relative she never met. However, it was what existed underneath the jewelry that caught her eye: piles of tied up envelopes, one with her name on it and one with Kiara’s.

The handwriting was not her grandmother’s, which made Raven even more curious.

She pulled out the stack with her name on it and undid the thin ribbon that tied them together. There were ten letters there in total, each one with a different note scribbled on the envelope.

To Raven on your 18th birthday

To Raven on high school graduation

To Raven after your first love

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation

To Raven on your wedding day

She only had to flip through a few of them to realize who they were from. Her mom.

“You’re killing me,” she muttered to the sky, unsure if she was speaking to God, her grandmother, her mother or all three.

Her hands trembled slightly as she ripped open the one on top, addressed to her on her 18th birthday. These were some of the only words her mother would get to say to her, she did not care how long ago she should have read it. She would savor each one.

To my sweet darling girl,

If you are reading this, it means that I am not physically there with you on your birthday. It means that I’ve missed 18 birthdays and too many milestones to write a letter for and for that, I am sorry. You might be wondering why there is not a letter for all those milestones and birthdays that have taken place but this felt like the best place to start and the appropriate age for reading the musings of a dying woman. If there’s even such a thing.

We learned your gender today. Another sweet girl. If the doctor somehow got it wrong, these letters will be incredibly awkward. But I know they are right. Because you, my darling girl, are the manifestation of my wildest dreams. I dreamed of you almost a year ago, this beautiful girl with half my face but all of my spirit and personality. And every night since then, I prayed, begged God to make that dream a reality… no matter the cost. And he did.

I know my body is not strong enough to be your mother, to be around to be the mother someone as brilliant as you will deserve. But I hope you know that deciding to have you and keep you, regardless of the risks, is the single greatest decision I ever made. You were not an accident or a misfortune given to me. You are my dreams. And if my last moments on this earth are spent looking at you, it will have been worth it.

I waited until 18 to start these letters because I worried a child could never understand the choice I made. And you may still not. And if you resent me for leaving you before you could know me, I understand that too. But I hope that through these letters, you will get to know me. And you will feel some semblance of the immense love I have for you.

I don’t have much advice because you’ve likely heard it all at this point. But the two most important things I can tell you, that I wish someone had told 18 year old me, is to know that failure is part of the journey. Your grandmother used to always tell me to keep reaching out your hand even if it doesn’t work. I didn’t really understand it soon enough but I hope you do. Life is about risks and if you don’t reach out your hand out of fear, you’ll protect yourself from pain but you will also miss out on the gifts God is trying to hand you. As a daughter, I hated to admit it, but mama was right about that… and so many other things.

And finally, more importantly than anything else I could offer you in these letters, please remember every day that you are so, so loved.

Know that regardless of what happened to me, I loved you with every fiber of my being until my last breath. Know that you were a gift from God. And every day you venture out into this world, know that you are worthy of so much because you were so loved from the moment you were dreamed up. Do not let anyone or whatever will happen to you in what I pray is a long, rich, happy life diminish that light, diminish your worth. I know how special you are and I don’t even know your name yet. And while I hope that your father and grandmother will affirm you daily, you don’t need other people to tell you that you are special. You have to know it for yourself. That’s the most important advice I can give you. Know who you are and your worth and take up as much space in this world as you want. And as long as you never forget how special you are… how deserving you are, you’ll move through this world shining bright. And the world will be forced to know it too and move to give you what you deserve. It’s not much and a bit cliche perhaps but I’ve been torn down enough to know that sometimes we all need the reminder. But those are stories for another letter.

By the time I write my next letter, I promise I will have picked out a name for you. I read a book the other day where the main character was named Raven… I had not thought of it before but I like it.

Happy Birthday.

Love,

Mom

The river of tears streaming down Raven’s face splashed against the slanted handwriting on the page, Raven quickly whisking them away so the words would remain legible. Raven did not even know how long she sat there staring at the words on the page, her heart bursting with the knowledge that her mother’s hand had touched this very paper, that she had poured her heart and soul into every word etched into it.

It was like proof she had been real and not this entity Raven had conjured up in her head. Raven could not stop herself from ripping open all the ones that she should have gotten along the way. The one for her first love and the separate one on heartbreak were four pages each, and Raven did not pay attention to the clock as she absorbed each and every word.

Everything she had learned about her mother had been through her grandmother and she had always wondered if her grandmother told her things just to make her feel better. But she realized that her grandmother had been telling the truth, she and her mother were so much alike. She found herself nodding and laughing along to her mother’s stories and wisdom embedded in all those pages. She was a prolific storyteller too and an amazing writer, another trait Raven realized she must have inherited from her.

For the first time in 30 years, Raven did not feel weighed down by this unbearable guilt. She felt lighter than she had ever been in her entire life. Perhaps this was what God wanted her to find here, not a confrontation with her family, but these words. This tangible proof that her mother had chosen her, wanted her… loved her and that she had not ruined anything at all.

Her mother would not have wanted her to carry such guilt around for so long because there was nothing to be guilty about.

The letters were scattered across the attic floor when she heard the faint sound of their garage opening. She quickly folded up all of her letters and stuffed them back into the box, tucking it under her arm as she climbed out of the attic. She did not make much noise as she closed up the attic, just as she heard her father and sister close the garage door and enter the kitchen.

Their voices drifted up to her ears as she started to climb down the stairs, deciding that she might as well get the pure unpleasantness of this moment over with.

“Wait… you hear that? Is someone in the house??” she heard her sister ask, knowing that they both could hear her footsteps against the old floorboards.

“Don’t get your gun,” she called out as she started down the stairs. “It’s just me.”

She was greeted with less-than-welcoming expressions from her family, such disdain that it made her want to scurry away. But she did not. She had done enough of that in her life.

“Adding breaking and entering to your criminal activity, now?”

Raven scoffed as she placed the box on the kitchen counter that stood between her and her family.

“Don’t think you can break into a house you helped pay for?” she answered coolly. “And I’m not the one with a mug shot here if I remember correctly.”

“No you’re just the one who sold her cheap ass for a quick buck.”

Raven shook her head, opening and closing her mouth for a few moments as she tried to find the words.

“Yea I did… And I’m not proud of it,” Raven admitted. “But I won’t let you or anyone shame me for doing what I needed to do to survive. What helped the two of you survive too.” Raven scratched her head, realizing that trying to get closure from her family was unnecessary. Her mother’s words had given her all the closure she had ever needed. That’s what she had come home for.

“You know, I got a plane ready to rip you both a new one for 30 years of abuse and torture. To try to force you to admit that I’m not the villain you made me to be. But… I don’t need that anymore. Because the cross of guilt and shame you two forced onto my back for all these years isn’t one I should have to carry. But I did because I thought it was the only way to keep you two around. And even without you two in my life, I still drag that cross around because I thought I deserved it. But I realized today, way too late, that I don’t need a damn thing from either of you to put it down.”

“So you came here to what? To chastise us and steal?” her father asked, gesturing toward the box on the counter.

“You can’t steal things that belong to you. These are letters mom wrote to me,” she lifted the open letters out before sliding the unopened pile to her sister. “And to you.”

“Your mother wrote these?” he asked, his jaw tensing as he looked down at the stack.

“Yeah, she did. You’ll enjoy yours… she was a really good storyteller,” she glanced at Kiara. “These letters just told me something I should’ve realized long before Thanksgiving. That cross? That guilt? It isn’t mine. And I am done wasting my life trying to rectify the mistake of being born. Because it wasn’t a mistake. She chose me… prayed for a second daughter knowing the cost and she decided it was worth it. And hearing her say that? That’s all I need to know that I deserve so much more than this… so much more than you.” She took a deep breath. “Being a grieving husband isn’t an excuse to be a terrible father and I’ll just be grateful I found some way to survive you and this. And jealousy doesn’t give you the right to be a shitty sister.”

“What the fuck do I have to be jealous of??”

“I always wondered that. But reading those letters… I finally got it. Because even as a failed author and prostitute, I’m everything she was. Grandma used to always say I had her personality… her talent. I always thought she was lying to make me feel better. But you knew she wasn’t and you could never stand it. Couldn’t stand that I was more like her than you.” For the first time, her sister was speechless. A good look on her in Raven’s opinion. “Mom wanted so much better for me than this and I’m gonna go and find it. Because I’ve wasted too much energy trying to earn the love of people who don’t deserve it. So if you want to go to your graves hating me, making me the scapegoat for every problem in your miserable lives, have at it. But know that I don’t hate you even after all this. I won’t be weighed down anymore by any feelings toward either of you ever again. You aren’t worth it.”

Raven pulled herself to full height and rolled her shoulder back as she scooped up the box and folder she had taken from her grandmother’s stuff.

“Now I’m gonna go and have that long… rich and happy life mom wanted for me. And I hope you two do the same.”

She did not look behind her as she walked away, a soft smile on her face as she walked out of her family’s house for the last time.

She let out a long laugh as she sat in her car, so much of the weight she had been carrying around gone. It did not feel sad like when she cut off her family at Thanksgiving. She finally felt as if she had cut the anchor away and she could float away, she could move forward and heal all the broken pieces of herself that they had gleefully chipped away at.

When she got back to her hotel room, she just kept rereading her mom’s words. She would memorize each letter at this point. A part of her desperately wanted to open the other ones but she had not reached those milestones just yet so she left them where they were. For some reason, she worried her mother would disapprove of her breaking into them early.

One line of five letters she read and reread stuck to her bones above all else. And of course, as if her mother had known, it was embedded in the letter for her first love. Love… the thing that had cracked her wide open and brought her to this moment in the first place.

You’d be surprised to know that this was the hardest of the letters to write. Because everyone has some prolific idea of what love is and feels like. And I realized I don’t… because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the love I pray you are as you read this. That’s not to say I don’t love your father, I do. But I want something different than convenience for you. I hope that the love you feel is safe, allows you to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human - strong and vulnerable, insecure and confident, boisterous and timid. I hope it feels like stepping out of the cold air and into a warm embrace. I hope it is loud and unapologetic because you deserve nothing less. And I hope it makes you feel so enraptured that everything else in the world goes quiet. And lastly, I hope, more than anything, that it feels like home. That when you’re in this person’s embrace, you feel as if your soul finally landed right where it is supposed to be.

Her eyes scanned that passage over and over again, realizing that she had found the exact love her mother described. She had come back here thinking she was coming home. But this wasn’t home at all. Home was where he was. And he was back in LA, about to prepare for the biggest night of his life in 24 hours. And regardless of whatever trust needed to be rebuilt and conversations needed to be had, she could not allow herself to miss it. She could not allow herself to not show up for him.

Raven scrambled to find her phone as it was hidden beneath sheets of paper. She scrolled through, praying she had not deleted a long forgotten group thread that housed one number she had once thought she would never need but now was the most important phone number in the world.

She almost shouted praises to God when she found it, clicking the call button on the unsaved number. She paced up and down beside her bed as every agonizing ring dragged on.

“Didn’t think I’d see your name pop up on my phone ever again.”

Raven let out a sigh of relief as her voice filled her ears. “I know… me either. But I need a favor.”

“Does it involve a certain award show tomorrow night?”

“Yes. Is it too late?”

“Yea it is.” she knew Alex could hear the tiny sigh of sadness she let out. “For anyone but me. I’ve earned enough favors around here to create a miracle or two.”

“Really?? Cause I need like more than one or two miracles… a dress, hair, makeup… hell a flight from Charlotte to make it back in time. Without him knowing?”

“Consider all of it done. Hope you don’t mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn though.” Alex asked, Raven hearing the smile in her tone.

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.”

“Good. Then I'll take care of everything... I'll have to tell his mom but she'll love this. And probably be happy as hell that she doesn't have to go anymore. I'll text you details in an hour."

"An hour?? That's all you need??"

"You're new here so I'm gonna choose to not be offended by that."

"Noted." She was about to hang up when she stopped herself. “Hey… Alex? Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just make sure your ass is on that plane and in LAX tomorrow when Allen picks you up, got it?”

Raven chuckled. “Yea I got it. See you tomorrow.”

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

***

A/N: So now will y'all stop yelling at me LOLOL our good sis is going back to her man! We love to see it! How surprised do we think Michael's going to be? Part 11.2 will be the Oscars! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks for reading!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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dearest-and-nearest · 8 months

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Okay, so, i want Gortash in party so badly, here's few things i headcanoned for how it would be. Durge run, because it seems more fitting for me

- After the destruction of the grove, only Wyll leaves, Karlach stays behind and, when she meets Gortash, gives you an ultimatum: it's either him or her. Gortash's taunts don't help the cause, but in theory you can convince her to just leave without attacking. Afterwards, Gortash joins the party, as he needs to deal with Orin personally.

- You can go to him from any LI, you don't have to be a loner for the whole game.

- The personal quest is tied to the House of Hope. Maybe it's about the contract with the sale of Gortash, not sure yet. If you take him there, you can get unique interactions with almost everyone on the location, when you meet the man who used to be the jailer you have to pass a persuasion/intimidation check so he doesn't raise the alarm and shear everyone at you

- There's unique dialog with Raphael too, even at the deal-making stage (Gortash won't approve it). He mocks Gortash by suggesting him go back "home", calls him by his real last name, and says that he became like that solely because of his upbringing from Rafael. After the deal, you can talk to Gortash about it, he'll snap at you and won't let the subject develop. Full dialog will be after Raphael's death, then the start of the romance can also be...?

- Additional unique dialog when meeting Gortash's parents. In the romance, Gortash will laugh that he invited MC specifically to introduce his dear parents to beloved of their lovely son. At the same time, he will disapprove for trying to contact them by tadpole, and if you do try to talk about it, he will emphasize that they got what they deserved.

- Alternate quest options with the factory and the prison. On both we instead of releasing prisoners on the contrary more oppress them + the opportunity to personally chat with Gortash's subordinates (they will snort that he told them about you all the time, they're sorry for Bhaalites, if you are the same), in addition, if Wyll previously left the party, it's Gortash who gives a quest about the dragon. He also is the main fan of dragons here and with all the polite impossibility to refuse asking to be in a party to go to look at the dragon

- Because of dragons, here are banters with Laezel, where he tries to ask more about them and sighs that he wanted a dragon when he was a kid, but even Bane didn't give him one, and someone in this world talks about justice.

- There's no good route with him. Like at all. Just no. Just like Wyll and Karlach have no evil and they argue and angry when the MC tries to move in that direction, so it is with good and Gortash. If you try to draw an analogy between his slavery and what he does to those around him, he disapprove on 30 points and warns you that okay, you don't remember, but bring it up again and blame yourself. If you try to continue, he gets angry and either attacks or leaves the party, saying that Urge has really changed too much.

- If you come to Sarevok with him, a free dose of grandfatherly grumbling is assured. If there is romance, he can also start mentioning how much Urge admired Gortash, which will give Gortash a satisfied grin. With Orin, if Gortash is in the party, it will be much harder to save the hostage (checks 30+-) and after the duel, your father will additionally condemn your choice of the chosen one (but I would like this with all romances, not just with the Gortash personally).

- The butler doesn't call him by name, but keeps telling that his lord/lady deserves much better than this. Gortash finds it funny

- He doesn't die at the brain like stupid, instead he can meet Emperor again. Thinks that becoming illythid is stupid if there's already a squid here, and after all it would be easy to betray him. Also in the finale gives the ability to summon a squad of Steel Guardians. Of course, will agitate to become an Absolute

- If you still destroy brain, then obviously romantic dialog after the finale, where he sighs that okay, to rule the world is still a little failed, but you two will practice for now on one city.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #dark urge x gortash #lord enver gortash #lord gortash #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #gortash x durge

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cherienymphe · 1 year

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When The Party’s Over XIV (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, forced pregnancy, mentions of abortion, forbidden relationship, violence, jealousy, stalking, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, public sex, innocent reader, Heyward!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @silkholland

➥ series masterlist

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

You stared into the pool, gaze focused on the way the sun glinted off of the water while Cam and Bunny talked beside you. You weren’t in a talkative mood, but you also weren’t in the mood to be alone. You’d felt too alone for the past month or so, and even though you couldn’t confide in Cam or Bunny like you wanted to, being around them made you feel less alone.

Pope was still basically giving you the silent treatment, and you wondered if this was a taste of what would happen should you tell him the whole truth. He had every right to, you supposed. After all, you’d begged your brother to pay for your abortion, and not only had he done it, but he’d also even driven you there himself. He was right in thinking the least you could do was tell him who the father was. Funnily enough, you’d come close to a few times since that day, but then you thought about the disappointment on his face when you revealed you were pregnant, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“No, I told Kelce it’s just us girls for the day,” you heard Cam say.

You looked down, feeling bad, but you swallowed it down. When Cam wanted you to come over, you’d been adamant in making sure Kelce wouldn’t be there. You hated the way they traveled in a pack, and understanding that you just wanted some girl time, she’d promised that he wouldn’t be.

“…and good thing too,” she continued, taking a sip of her margarita. “You know Rafe almost bit my head off for politely telling him that maybe he shouldn’t do coke in my parents’ living room?”

The mention of Rafe had your heart skipping a beat, and you greedily sucked down your own drink.

“I mean, it’s Rafe and everyone knows how he is, but he’s been more of an asshole than usual lately,” the redhead grumbled. “Every time Kelce brings him around, it just feels like there’s a loaded gun in the room.”

“Sounds like he’s not getting any,” Bunny said, making fun of him.

They both chuckled, and you felt eyes on you.

“You get along pretty well with him,” Bunny commented at you. “Take one for the team.”

They laughed again, and you pulled your lip between your teeth. They didn’t understand just how close to home that hit, especially since if you did take one for the team and went back to Rafe, his attitude would be a lot better.

“Rafe’s not really my type,” you quietly lied. “Besides, like you just said, he’s kind of an asshole.”

If only you had figured that out sooner.

You felt…stupid for not taking his reputation into account. Did you really think you were so special? No. You hadn’t even considered that Rafe was into you until he was literally kissing you. You’d genuinely believed that he’d matured and that all the things you’d heard were behind him. It was almost laughable how wrong you were, if it wasn’t so freaking terrifying.

“I think I’m gonna go lay down,” you said, pushing yourself to your feet.

You could feel their eyes on you as they bid you goodbye, and as shallow as Cam and Bunny could be, it was obvious you meant something to them. They were good friends to have around, and you knew that your sullen mood as of late was worrying them. Sure, you started joining them at parties again and hung out at their houses, but your heart wasn’t really in it, and they could tell.

The alcohol in your otherwise empty stomach was making you drowsy, and you made your way to the guest room that you’d long claimed as yours. You found yourself realistically thinking about what would happen should you just come clean to Pope. He would be angry, God knows he would be angry, but it couldn’t last forever. Eventually, he would move past it, but it was that waiting period that you dreaded.

You didn’t want to see the disappointment and fury on his face. You didn’t want to have to deal with a prolonged silent treatment, his actions displaying his disappointment more than words ever could. At the same time though, you realistically didn’t know how long this could go on between you and Rafe. You liked to think that he would just give up and move on to someone else, but you knew that was wishful thinking.

Rafe was going to get fed up, and when did…

What would you do?

What could you do?

If you told Pope though, and he told his friends like you suspected he would, you would have help in keeping him away. With that being said though, how long would that even work? You couldn’t just live at John B.’s nor Kiara’s place either, and Rafe made it more than clear that he’d hurt whoever he had to in order to get his point across. You’d feel like shit if anything happened to any of Pope’s friends because of you.

You were blinking back tears when you heard Cam’s voice from downstairs.

“Kelce, what the hell!”

You faltered at that, slowly sitting up and making sure you heard her right.

“We’re having a girls’ day, remember?” her annoyed tone reached you as you neared the door.

“Yeah, yeah, but you can have a girls’ day any day,” her boyfriend replied. “Besides, Rafe was bored and convinced me that I do indeed want to see my girlfriend.”

Your heart dropped at the mention of your ex-boyfriend, and you took a step back, frame trembling. You blinked, hurrying towards the window, and sure enough, Topper’s familiar jeep was parked in the yard. Feeling like you were going to be sick, you hurried to the door, shutting it all the way and locking it just as you heard footsteps on the stairs.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. It was like Rafe knew you were here, and you looked away with a huff, sitting back down. Bunny and Cam thought you were asleep, no doubt, and so you figured you had hours to wait him out. You slowly closed your eyes, letting your head fall into your hands.

You just wanted one day where you weren’t thinking about Rafe.

Just one.

When you peeled them open, you could see the shadow of shoes at the bottom of the door. You didn’t need confirmation, you knew who was on the other side. You blinked, a few tears spilling over as he just stood there, listening and waiting, no doubt. The stillness of him scared you to death, and you swallowed down a sob.

“Please, go away,” you quietly mouthed, begging to anyone who would listen.

You only released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when Kelce called his name. He stood there for a few more seconds before finally turning away, and you threw your head back, fighting the urge to be sick. Knowing that Rafe was right downstairs and waiting for you was enough to make you cry, and so you did.

It was late when you finally slipped out of the room, looking around the dark hallway for Cam. You could hear voices downstairs, and while not surprised they were still up, you hoped Cam wasn’t down there too. When you couldn’t find her, you begrudgingly accepted that she was, and with slow and quiet steps, you made your way downstairs.

You heard her voice coming from the kitchen, and you kept your gaze forward as you rushed straight there. She was making drinks with Bunny, and they both looked up at the sight of you.

“Sleeping beauty!” the blonde greeted, and you threw her a tense smile.

“Um…Cam, can you take me home? I feel really sick and…”

“No, yeah,” she said, face falling as she looked over you. “You’re okay, right?”

“Just…too much to drink on an empty stomach, I think.”

You fidgeted with your hands, and she noticed, nodding.

“That’s fine. I’ll just put on my shoes.”

She brushed past you, and you leaned your hands on the counter as Bunny talked. You’d already put your shoes on, ready to leave at a moment’s notice, and you felt bad for barely paying attention to what Bunny was saying. When she glanced up, pausing, you froze, completely aware of just who was behind you.

“Here to throw a fit over how sweet your drink is?”

You kept your gaze on the counter, and only silence met her for a while before a familiar voice spoke.

“Nah…I was just starting to think Y/N had died up there,” he drawled, and you could feel his heated gaze on you. “Had to see for myself that was still breathing.”

You didn’t respond to him, and Bunny noticed, looking between you two with a slight frown. Before she could say anything, you straightened.

“Where’s Cam?” you wondered, turning and looking past him as you breezed by.

Rafe didn’t move as you did, and your arm brushed against his chest, and you shuddered at the feel. Cam was coming downstairs as you walked into the foyer, and she sent you a smile as she grabbed her keys. Your skin pricked, and as you both made it to the door, you made the mistake of glancing over your shoulder.

Rafe was just outside the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb and nursing a brown drink. His blue eyes were focused on you, and the look in them was unreadable as you quickly followed Cam out. The drive was quiet, and you were sure Cam just wanted to give you your space. She was under the impression that you didn’t feel well, after all, and truthfully, it wasn’t a complete lie.

You were halfway to your house when the headlights that came up behind you were noticeable. You didn’t think anything of it, but it wasn’t exactly a straight shot to your house from Cam’s, and it didn’t take long to notice the car behind hers following her every move. You looked through the back window, frowning slightly before turning around.

It was a small island, and so many people lived near each other. You told yourself it was a coincidence, but deep down, something argued against that. Your heart raced in your chest, and you didn’t want to believe that dark thought you’d started entertaining. With how dark it was, the headlights were hard to ignore, and you didn’t feel any relief when Cam pulled into your yard. Especially when you looked over your shoulder and watched as a familiar jeep crept by.

You didn’t need to see inside to know who was driving it.

You swallowed when she parked, slowly turning back around. You sat there for a moment, frozen and almost forgetting where you were when Cam spoke.

“Hey…” you looked up at the sound of her gentle voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You gave her a shaky nod, fighting back tears and thanking her. You were climbing out and wishing her a goodnight before she could respond, hurrying inside. You leaned your back against the door as soon as it was shut, and you weren’t even able to relax that night until you checked your window at least seven times to make sure it was locked.

The next time you saw Rafe was at a party.

It was in a part of Figure 8 that you rarely frequented, neither of your friends having been to a party at this person’s house before. It was the only reason you went, confident that you weren’t going to run into the familiar blond. You blamed the constant shadow of Rafe’s threats and presence hanging over your head for your desire to drink until you could barely stand.

It wasn’t like you, and even Bunny commented on it.

“Ok, here, here,” she said, sitting you down and handing you some water. “Drink all of this while I go find Cam.”

You reached for her hand, preventing her from leaving, and her eyes were wide at your tight grip.

“You’ll come back?”

Her brows drew together, and she knelt before you.

“Of course,” she said. “I just think it’s time for you to go home, okay? I’m going to get Cam, and then we’re going to go. Okay…?”

You eventually nodded, lips trembling as you let her go. You watched her disappear into the crowd, and you pulled your knees up onto the couch, drinking that water. It felt like forever, but in truth, Bunny was probably only gone for a few minutes when she finally returned with the redhead. She blew out a breath at the sight of you.

“Okay, you weren’t kidding,” she breathed, clearly talking to Bunny. “Hey, we’re gonna take you home.”

She reached for you, and you blinked.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” you heard yourself slur, and she shook her head.

“No, Y/N, it’s fine. We’ve all been there,” she teased, taking your arm. “It’s just time for you to call it a night.”

“Cam’s going to take you while I leave with Topper.”

Bunny’s words had you freezing, and you looked up to meet her unaware gaze. You slowly frowned, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you processed what she said.

“What? Topper-what? What do you mean?”

Cam gestured over her shoulder.

“Topper’s here with Kelce and Rafe,” she told you, making your stomach churn. “Rafe wanted to come and they didn’t even realize we were here too.”

She chuckled, but you didn’t join in. It felt like someone out there had it out for you, putting you and Rafe together when you went out of your way to avoid him. You slowly blinked, a salty taste forming in your mouth as you looked around. It didn’t take long, and sure enough, you saw the three huddled together, the oldest laughing like he wasn’t driving you insane.

“I’m going to be sick,” you slowly whispered, and your friends frowned, not quite hearing you.

You repeated yourself, louder as you realized it was true, alcohol mixing in your stomach as you pressed your hand to your mouth. You ran to the nearest bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you, and you barely made it to the toilet in time. It didn’t feel nearly as good coming out as it did going in, and the knowledge that Rafe was here only made you throw up again.

Why was he here? How did he seem to keep finding you? Your luck brought tears to your eyes, more springing forth when you threw up again. You didn’t know how long you stayed in the bathroom, finally getting up and washing your hands when someone knocked. You rinsed your mouth out too, feeling slightly less drunk as you blinked at your reflection in the mirror.

You quietly apologized to the stranger when you exited, and you made your way back to the couch…only to find Cam and Bunny gone. You frowned slightly, looking around with no sign of them. You slowly pushed through the crowd, going into every room, but no matter how many times you called their name, neither of them answered.

You repeated the actions as you went upstairs, and aside from walking in on some couple, you didn’t see anyone. You didn’t recognize anyone as you came back stairs, and you decided to walk outside. Your phone was pressed to your ear as you made your way into the yard, not so noisy out here, and you bit your lip, relief filling you when Bunny answered.

Wherever she was, the music was loud, but you didn’t recognize it as what was playing from inside the house.

“Hello?” she yelled.

“Bunny? Hey, where…? Where are you?” you looked around.

She had a hard time hearing you, and you had to repeat yourself a few times.

“Oh! We’re with Topper and Kelce,” she told you, making your frown deepen and your confusion grow. “We’re on the way to Kelce’s place.”

Your mouth parted in shock, and you almost didn’t believe her.

“What?”

You didn’t know if the call was dropping or if it was the music, but you struggled to hear her. She started going in and out, but eventually, you heard one sentence loud and clear.

“Rafe said that you asked him to take you home!”

You stopped breathing, pulling the phone away and staring at it just as the call dropped.

Your heart started to race in your chest, and her words bounded around in your head. The music from the party started to fade into the background, and there was a loud ringing in your ear. Your hands shook, and you tightened your grip on your phone.

Your friends were God knows how far and clearly on the way to getting even more drunk, and you were alone at a party…

With Rafe.

You looked around, feeling disproportionately while surrounded by tons of people. You saw no sign of Rafe, and that either meant he was looking for you too…or you couldn’t see him, but he could see you. Choosing to believe the former, you hurried out of the yard, biting the bullet and calling your brother. Pope wouldn’t be happy about coming to get you, but he’d do it, and it was far better than the alternative.

“Come on,” you worriedly murmured. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

The sounds of the party were growing fainter as you walked down the street, worriedly looking over your shoulder. When it went to voicemail, you dialed again, chest tightening as you feared you’d get the same result. You did, and you cursed, looking over your shoulder, relieved to find an empty street. You pressed your hand to your forehead, mind whirling as you fought to find a way out of this that didn’t involve trying to walk home.

Your lips parted, and you called Cam.

“Hello?”

Just as you’d imagined, her words were a bit slurred. You didn’t think you could live with yourself if you begged one of them to come back and get you and something happened. You sighed to yourself, resting your hand on your arm as you held your phone to your ear.

“Cam, please put Topper on the phone.”

She seemed confused by your request at first, but eventually a masculine voice greeted you.

“Topper, I don’t care about what Rafe may have told you, alright?” you started, sure that Topper would want to hang up as soon as he heard your voice. “I need Sarah’s number.”

Silence greeted you, and then he spoke.

“I…I don’t-.”

“Now, really isn’t the time to pretend you aren’t still hung up on her, okay? I know you have her number, and I need it,” you pleaded.

You were still walking, and the silence around you was unnerving. Eventually he sighed in defeat.

“Yeah, sure, uh… I’ll send it to you,” he relented, and you thanked him.

It came through only moments after you hung up, an unfamiliar number texting you with Sarah’s contact. You didn’t hesitate to call her, the sound of your heels against the pavement as you walked further and further from the party. She answered on the fourth ring, and guilt ate at you as she groaned.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sarah? It’s me. Y/N,” you breathed.

She was silent for a moment before repeating your name, sounding confused.

“Were you asleep?”

It was a silly question. It was almost 1 in the morning, after all.

“Kind of,” she slowly said, groaning again. “What…what’s going on…?”

You licked your lips.

“Do you know where Pope is?” you asked.

“No,” she slowly told you. “He’s probably at home or maybe with Kie-wait. Are you not at home?”

Her voice was clearer, now, clearly much more awake, and your eyes watered.

“No,” you choked out. “Are you?”

You hoped she wasn’t and was instead where you needed her to be.

“No, I’m at John B.’s.”

Relief filled you at her words, and you were so happy you could cry.

“I’m so, so sorry, Sarah, I really am, but I…I need you to come get me,” you whispered, repeatedly looking over your shoulder.

She didn’t respond right away, and you could hear her moving, and you heard someone else groan. Probably John B.

“Um…okay. Is everything okay?”

Some tears spilled over, and you paused, shaking your head.

“No,” you tearfully told her. “No. I really need you to come get me, right now.”

God knows you didn’t want to scare her, but you yourself was terrified, and you didn’t know how else to get across how urgent this was. They would already be coming from the other side of the island.

“Okay, okay, John B. and I are about to leave,” she quickly assured you. “Where are you?”

You didn’t even know, and you looked around.

“I’ll share my location with you,” you shakily told her, a quiet ‘ok’ reaching your ears.

You hung up, doing what you promised, and you looked over your shoulder again.

This night felt so reminiscent of that first night Rafe picked you up on the side of the road. You were drunk, walking home from a party, and your feet were killing you. Like that first night, you reached down and took them off, accepting that you could walk a lot faster without them. However, unlike that first night, Rafe wasn’t on your mind as some kind of savior.

Rafe was who you were running from.

The cool ocean breeze dried your tears, but more kept replacing those the longer you walked. You wanted to try and meet Sarah and John B. somewhat halfway instead of being the equivalent of a sitting duck, but your feet were aching, and even though the fresh air was sobering, alcohol still coursed through your blood. You wobbled here and there, pressing your hand to your forehead.

You resisted the urge to sit down in the grass, telling yourself that you couldn’t. Rafe had to figure out that you’d left by now, and you wondered if he’d guess that you’d try and walk home. As much as you’d hoped he’d just move on, the way he’d tricked your friends into getting you alone only confirmed what you’d prayed against. Truthfully, you didn’t understand him.

Rafe could easily find someone else to fuck with and leave you alone. You didn’t know if it was an ego thing or what, but it couldn’t be love as he’d claimed. You were slowly starting to tell yourself that there was no way someone could love you and treat you as Rafe had. Say the things that Rafe had. It didn’t add up, and so you surmised that Rafe just didn’t like to lose, didn’t like to be beaten. Maybe he had been intending on breaking you when you’d pulled a fast one over on him and left him.

It was much too soon for Sarah and John B. to have reached you yet, but that still didn’t stop you from perking up at the sound of a vehicle. You stepped off the road, feet in the grass as you craned your neck. You realized that you weren’t as sobered up as you thought because there were no headlights coming towards you.

The vehicle was approaching from the wrong way.

When you looked over your shoulder, the bright headlights blinded you, and you narrowed your eyes slightly. You hoped it was some stranger, wondering what you were doing out here so late, but your luck hadn’t been in your corner as of late, and there was no reason for it to change, now. You started taking a step back long before the truck stopped, and you immediately turned around when the door opened.

You ignored the sound of your name being called, hurrying away from him.

“Y/N!”

You were running now, rough pavement digging into the soles of your feet, and you heard Rafe swear. When you heard his door close, your heart skipped a beat, and your chest burned when you picked up the pace. You felt yourself panicking when he put his truck in drive, and you yelped when he sped around you, cutting you off entirely too close and forcing you to fall back.

You were pushing yourself to your feet when he hurried out of the vehicle, and you threw a shoe at him.

“Leave me alone!”

He unfortunately caught it, and you threw the other, moving to take off when he ran after you. One of his hands caught your hair, the other wrapping around your arm, and you fought against him as he turned you to face him.

“Y/N, stop,” he spat, trying to restrain you.

You were kicking at his legs, trying to aim in between them, but Rafe jerked his hips back every time you tried. Your nails dug into his shoulder and neck, and he let out a loud hiss. You could only really make out a loud rushing sound in your ears, heart racing and tears blurring your vision as you fought to get away from him. His hand was tight on your arm, making you wince, and the other was trying to secure your waist.

“Hey, hey, stop-!” he cut himself, dodging your hand. “Calm down!”

“Let go of me,” you screamed, yanking against him, and trying to pry his hand off.

When you did finally bring your leg up between his, it took you an embarrassingly long time to realize how you ended up on the ground.

You were trembling as you slowly lifted your head, and you slowly blinked, frowning a bit. Your vision was spinning, and it was only when you became aware of the flaring pain on the right side of your face did you realize it wasn’t from the alcohol. You heard Rafe swear, and your tongue darted out, the metallic taste of blood reaching your senses.

“Fuck,” he huffed, his breathing deep. “Fuck, I…”

You were still a bit dazed, groaning when he reached down and grabbed your arm, helping you up. You stumbled, and your eyes watered against your will when Rafe reached out to turn your head to the side. You flinched when he brushed his fingers over it, taking advantage of your bewilderment to pull you towards his truck.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, trying to assure you of that, and your head slowly started to clear.

“No,” you mumbled, trying to pull against him. “Rafe, please.”

“It’s okay,” he said, yanking you and making you hiss as your feet scraped along the road. “Come on.”

You looked around for your phone, and you started to panic when you couldn’t find it. He was forcing you into his truck, and when you started to put up another fight, his hand was at your throat. Your eyes were wide as they stared into his, and his jaw clenched as he stared you down.

“You made me do this,” he coldly told you, and you noticed the way his eyes watered too. “Do you understand? You forced my hand.”

More tears spilled over as you reached up, resting your hands on his arm, and he shook you.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself.”

When he roughly let you go, you shook in the seat, reaching up and touching your face as he strapped you in. Your fingers brushed your lip, and you stared at the slight blood on them as Rafe slid in beside you. Your head was pounding as he took off, and you pat yourself, desperately trying to find your phone.

You sniffed, and when Rafe reached over to touch your face, you jerked away.

You couldn’t stop crying no matter how much you tried, and you could feel his gaze on you every now and then. Never mind the disbelief you felt that you were in his truck and currently going God knows where, but you were more focused on the way your face ached, and you leaned your head against the window.

“Hey,” Rafe softly said, fingers brushing your arm. “I didn’t mean that.”

You closed your eyes.

“You know I didn’t mean that, right…?”

You heard him exhale.

“You…you’ve put me through hell, you know that?”

His words had you looking at him in disbelief, eyes wide. To your shock, his expression matched his words, tears kissing his eyes and looking at you like you hurt him.

“I fucked up, I know that. I don’t…I don’t need you to remind me, but I was drunk…and you…”

He trailed off, running his hand over his face.

“I needed you, and you left me. I needed you, and you weren’t there-.”

“I needed you to not drown me! To trust me…”

“Hey-.”

“You’ve made my life hell! Look at where I am, look what you’ve-.”

“Stop! Stop!”

His outburst had you swallowing your words, trembling as you kept your wide eyes on him. Rafe had a finger in your face, blue eyes hard as he looked between you and the road.

“I’m talking now,” he spat at you. “You don’t get to talk when you’re the one who left me.”

You swallowed, tears skipping down your face.

“When you’re the one who…”

He trailed off, looking away and pulling his teeth between his lips. You watched his hands tighten on the wheel, knuckles growing white and straining. You watched his face change, eyes growing cold and expression hardening. He was breathing harder, now, and you were growing even more nervous than you were before.

When he spoke, his voice was low…and his words had your heart dropping.

“I know where you went the other day.”

You stared at him with a deep frown, lips parting and heart racing. He could only be talking about one thing, but it didn’t make sense. There was no way he could know, and you blinked, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie to me,” he breathed, voice shaky. “I know what you did.”

You glanced away, realizing that Rafe had long passed the way to your house. Were you stupid enough to think that’s where he was taking you? Maybe, but you were very obviously on The Cut, and if he wasn’t taking you to his house nor yours, then you didn’t understand where he was taking you.

“Rafe…I…I don’t-.”

“You were at Planned Parenthood…for five hours,” he slowly forced out, and you saw a tear skip down his cheek. “Five hours.”

He shook his head, and your stomach churned at both the confirmation that he knew, and the question as to how he knew.

“There’s only one reason you could be there for that long,” he spat, glancing at you with a look that could curdle milk.

“How did you know that?” you breathlessly wondered.

You didn’t even care about confirming his accusation, too focused on how he could possibly know that.

“Rafe, how do you know that?”

Your voice was clearer, now, anger seeping into it, and his expression had completely shifted, now, cooly glancing at you.

“How did I know you were in Charlotte…,” he mused, it sounding more like a statement than a question. “How did I know you were at Cam’s… How did I know what party you were at…”

You blinked, and again, you thought about your phone, looking for it. Rafe reached into his pocket, and when he held his hand up, your shoulders deflated. Your phone was in his hand, and it wasn’t lighting up, meaning it was off. Meaning your location wasn’t being shared with Sarah, and although you’d suspected that she wouldn’t be finding you, tonight, you’d still had hope.

However, his words combined with the sight of your phone in his hand had your mind whirling. You didn’t want to believe it, but you were realizing that Rafe had been tracking you this whole time, and when you remembered that said phone had been a gift by none other than him…you felt incredibly stupid. Rafe had never been nice, at all. He’d put up a farce.

This was without a doubt the real him.

“You didn’t even have the decency to tell me. To think I should know.”

You hated how…upset Rafe sounded, and in turn, it made you upset for several reasons.

“You made that decision for me,” you whispered. “It wasn’t something I wanted to do, Rafe…but you forced my hand.”

He nodded to himself, tossing your phone behind him without a care just as he pulled into an unfamiliar yard. You warily looked around, never having been to this area of The Cut before, and when Rafe got out, you didn’t move. He walked around the truck, and as he did, your gaze was drawn to a figure coming out of the trailer before you.

When Rafe opened your door, he grabbed your arm, and in unknown territory with Rafe and an unfamiliar person, you didn’t have much choice. He helped you down, pulling you close, and you were reminded of the fact that you didn’t have shoes on. Alcohol still kept you spacy, and you kept your eyes on the approaching male.

He whistled, a light chuckle leaving him as he approached Rafe.

“Country Club got himself a little girlfriend,” he laughed, dark eyes meeting yours, and Rafe shot him a look.

You watched him reach into his pocket, pulling out a wad of money, and you swallowed as they did a quick exchange. You were quiet, looking away, and you started trembling again when you heard Rafe’s quiet words reached your ears.

“We need to crash here, tonight,” he murmured, and when you attempted to step away, Rafe tightened his hold, making you wince. “We’ll be out early.”

You heard the other guy chuckle to himself.

“…and here I thought you were tipping me for my five star service.”

Your legs trembled when Rafe pulled you along, and you didn’t listen to their conversation, instead looking around and trying to figure out where you were. There was nothing familiar about it, and your face pinched, sniffling as Rafe forced you inside the house. When you looked over your shoulder, that other guy was gone, and you heard a dirt bike starting up before the sound of it eventually faded.

“That’s Barry,” Rafe told you, but you didn’t care. “Pretty obvious how we know each other.”

When Rafe let you go, you started to take a step back when he fixed you with a threatening look.

“Rafe…”

Your words died in your throat when he held a hand up, and your eyes started to water again when he moved towards you. You tried to ignore how much more painful your face felt, now, and you didn’t take your eyes off of Rafe. He quickly grabbed your arm, yanking you closer when you attempted to step away.

“You don’t know how much I missed you,” he murmured, sitting down on the couch.

You winced as he forced you down next to him, grip tight. You avoided his gaze, looking around and taking in your surroundings.

“…and you know what? I don’t think you even missed me, at all.”

“Rafe,” you started again. “I want to go home.”

You tearfully looked at him, gaze pleading as you accepted you wouldn’t be able to fight your way away from him.

“Please, take me home,” you whispered, voice shaking.

He watched you intently, and he swiped his tongue between his lips, a frown taking over.

“Why would I do that?”

Your face crumbled, and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. You twisted your arm, but his hold was tight, and when you grabbed his hand with your free one, he made a noise in the back of his throat.

“You’re hurting me.”

“…and you hurt me when you killed our baby,” he said, making you sharply inhale. “Fair is fair, right?”

He suddenly chuckled, shaking his head.

“It’s truly a testament to how much I love you,” he breathed, eyes rolling towards the ceiling. “…because if I didn’t…”

He blew out a breath, eyes meeting yours again as he shook his head.

“I don’t think I’d even be able to stand the sight of you.”

His free hand came up to brush along your cheek, and you jerked at the painful feeling it elicited. Rafe’s lips parted as he looked you over, and he softly exhaled, fingers trailing down towards your neck.

“…but I still want you,” he said, making you swallow and look around. “So bad.”

When you looked at him again, he was leaning closer, and your hand against his chest didn’t stop him. You tried to turn your head away when he kissed you, but his lips followed. His free hand gripped the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin, and you winced.

“Rafe,” you mumbled into the kiss. “Rafe, stop.”

You hit at his chest, digging your fingers into his arm when that didn’t work.

“Rafe,” you choked out, pulling your head back, and Rafe followed, using the momentum to push you back. “Rafe!”

You hit him, eyes watering again, and your stomach was twisting into knots. You tried to sit up when he reached behind his head to pull his shirt off, but it was futile, Rafe harshly shoving you back down. The force behind it took your breath away, and that small part of you that hoped he was just trying to scare you was gone. You looked at him with wide eyes as he held you down, lip curled over his teeth as his cold blue eyes bore into yours.

“You should be grateful that I still want you after what you did,” he whispered, venom coating his tone. “Hmm?”

You didn’t care about what he had to say, desperately pushing against him. You felt like you were going to throw up at the realization of what was happening, and Rafe ignored your struggle as he leaned in to kiss you again. Your tears ran into the kiss, a salty taste on your tongue as he tasted the inside of your mouth.

“Rafe,” you called, your voice getting louder, more panicked. “Stop! Please st-this isn’t funny!”

You could feel and hear your shirt tearing under his grip, your skirt following soon after. The only sound in the trailer was that of Rafe’s heavy breathing…and your sobs. It was like you weren’t even there, your ex-boyfriend intently focused on getting what he wanted, what he felt he was owed.

His hand was on your neck, holding you down, when he stroked himself, slowly pushing his way into you. The stretch was familiar, but it didn’t make your heart hurt any less. Your nails pressed into his shoulders, and Rafe groaned as he sheathed himself inside of you to the hilt. He didn’t waste time, tightening his hold on your throat as he pulled his hips back.

All of your breath left you as he slammed back into you, hips slapping yours, and your legs kicked around his. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in as he adopted a pace that had you gasping. You cringed away from every thrust, but Rafe’s hand dug into your hip, keeping you in place before sliding under your lower back, forcing you to arch up into him.

When he finally let your throat go, you coughed, desperately sucking in air.

“God, I missed you,” he moaned, dragging his lips over your skin.

There wasn’t a hint of alcohol on his breath, and when he lifted his head, his pupils were normal. There was no substance influencing him, nothing he could blame this on that wasn’t himself. It made you cry harder, just wanting him off of you.

You hated how wet you were becoming, hated how your body reacted to the feel of his cock pushing into you and stretching you out. You knew he took it as a sign that you wanted him too, but any part of you that could’ve wanted Rafe back was officially dead. His shorts brushed against your thighs with every movement, and when his hand twisted into the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your head back, you felt him reaching down and pushing them completely off.

He nipped at your throat, circling his hips and rutting into you. Your hands slipped over his skin, both of you coated in a light sheen of sweat, skin dewy. Rafe groaned into your ear, and your eyes rolled against your will, trying to remove yourself from the situation.

At some point, your gaze remained on the ceiling, choked whimpers and sobs escaping you as Rafe repeatedly curved his hips into yours. You barely heard anything he was whispering into your ear, feeling wholly out of control. Rafe hissed when you absentmindedly dug your nails into his back.

When he made you come around him against your will, he paused in his movements to take in the feel, sighing at the way you clenched around him. His arms were wrapped around you, sliding down to your thighs and jerking you against him, making you reach out to scrape your nails over the couch at the friction. You shook in his arms, and when you stilled, Rafe reached for your arms, sliding his hands along them to thread his fingers through yours.

He pinned them on either side of your head, forehead touching yours.

“I told you not to be dumb, beautiful,” he sighed, moving his hips again and making you gasp. “I told you.”

#dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #obx #obx fic #Outer Banks #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic

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𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Chapter 16: What's left of kisses? Wounds, however, leave scars.

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

Astarion and Ban attend the debutante's ball.

Professionally edited and collaborated on by my dearest friend <3 @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Art by Naaty

For a smutty render go to the AO3 link :P

She sat at the table, watching the debutante pass by. Corrinne glided by in a massive pink tulle gown - a showstopper, for sure, Ban thought - a gaggle of her friends trailing behind her.

The party hadn’t been too bad, all told, the food decent and the wine palatable. Astarion had disappeared sometime during the proceedings, arm in arm with Meiros. She’d been introduced to the master of the mirror-makers’ guild, had shaken his hand and smiled politely, but the man had seemed keen on holding negotiations with her husband alone. Astarion had shot her an apologetic look and left, but hadn’t protested at all, which was odd.

It was not an uncommon occurrence - some of the people they dealt with did not mind having her present, but inevitably some did. The first time someone had asked for Astarion to keep his spouse waiting outside he had seethed, about to launch into a tirade, when she had grabbed his wrist and told him to just go along with it - it would be quick, and it would be easier than offending someone they needed to cozy up to.

He had given her a long-winded talk that evening. She sipped her glass, smiling ruefully at the memory.

“What is the point,” he thundered, “of all this effort to mark you as my equal, if at the first sign of resistance you give in?”

She watched him tug off his shirt, tossing it away with a little more venom than he normally would. “I just think that some of the time we have to let them have their way. Easier than arguing and potentially losing out on-”

“I don’t care!” Astarion marched to her, placing his palms on the tub and leaning over where she was soaking. “We are to be wed soon. I would not have those morons think you’re…” he gestured with a hand, “you’re still some…”

“Consort? I mean, we still do use that term, at times.” Not in private, not in most circumstances, but in certain circles, yes.

He exhaled. “Consort, fine, when we must. Some plaything of mine, absolutely not.” Crimson burned into her, his anger evident, with lingering traces of guilt as well. She covered the hand grasping the tub with her own.

“Consorts can wait outside for their lords, Astarion, every once in a while. It’s fine.”

He deflated, eyes softening. “I’d still want to at least insist on your presence being invaluable to me.”

“If those people want me out of the room, saying so would merely make you seem weak.”

Astarion tugged off his trousers and underwear, grumbling to himself. He stepped into the tub and sat down, still glaring at her. “I’ve half a mind to invite whoever asks that of me to a party, lock all the doors, and…”

He let the thought sit, a small smirk dancing across his lips. She laughed. “Do that, and we’ll have all the nobles of Baldur’s Gate on our tails. Don’t.”

“The request you plan to make, if you do make it, can easily be done,” Meiros said, tapping his hands on the mahogany desk he was seated at. Astarion was pacing back and forth, rubbing his chin. “If I understand correctly - this is for your wife, is it not?”

“Which is why I asked you to request to meet me alone,” Astarion answered.

Meiros nodded. “Roderich hasn’t been the most active member the past few years, something his fellow guildmates and I are frankly pleased about. When I found out you were marrying a Glasscraft, I had assumed I would never see you outside my door, so imagine my surprise when you showed up.”

“And I suppose no one has seen any Glasscraft other than Roderich himself?”

“You’d be correct. There was only ever him. Oh, he used to say he had a loving wife at home, and two wonderful children to take over his business, but,” Meiros shrugged, “as I said. He stopped showing up to guild events. He’s still well-known, of course, with his gaggle of old, loyal customers, but we all assumed he was working on some new secret method or some such. When I heard about Barcus’ advancements in the mines, I thought Roderich might have already gotten his hands on that material.”

Astarion stopped pacing to lean on a chair, hands wrapped around its back. “Last time I purchased a mirror from him he was still harping on mercury being the best.”

“Then he is woefully behind.” Meiros stood up. “Well. If you do wish to push this through, I would be more than delighted to fulfill your request. I’m sure most of the members would have no complaints, either. A pleasure doing business with you, Lord Ancunín.”

The men shook hands.

Ban saw the side door open and Meiros walked in, followed by Astarion. The talks seemed to have gone well; they were chatting animatedly. She watched as he waved his daughter over to be introduced. Corrinne flounced to her father’s side, or at least attempted to - the rather large skirt bumped people’s legs as she passed - and finally arrived in front of the two men.

The girl’s eyes widened as she took in Astarion, and Ban smirked inwardly. He kissed Corrinne’s hand and her face flushed beet red. Ban leaned back, enjoying the show, sipping her wine absently; with Astarion’s mind unlinked from hers, it merely tasted dull.

It was fine. She knew her husband was accustomed to shallow admirers, and Ban was used to people who’d look at him, look at her, and deem her unworthy of him - just like Corrinne was doing now. Ban caught that furtive glare aimed her way, the quick up-and-down movement that told her the girl was sizing her up and found her lacking, and the satisfied grin on her face as she turned back to Astarion. Nothing new, nothing surprising, and nothing he couldn’t handle.

She found herself scanning the rest of the room, more than a little bored. She noted Meiros talking to another guest, gesturing towards Astarion. Likely he was discussing whatever their meeting had been about. The other guest looked intrigued, and Ban pondered again what her husband could be up to with the guild. She continued her visual roam around the party, finding nothing else of note taking place.

As her eyes made their way back to them, her husband’s eyes locked onto hers, and she raised her glass in greeting, amused. She was about to lean back and continue watching when she realized that Astarion hadn’t moved - was frozen, in fact. The pinched eyes, that slight part of his lips, and the furrow of his brow told her all she needed to know. In the same instant she recognized it, she felt his mind prod hers.

There were no words, just a flash of memory - from mere seconds ago, gauging by the expression on his face.

Corrinne laughed, bending over to do so, making sure Astarion received an eyeful of her rather ample bosom. She grabbed his shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Lord Astarion. I didn’t mean to. It’s just these shoes…” She made a show of falling off-balance, likely a little more drunk than she ought to be, and he automatically caught her elbow to steady her. The size of her skirt meant that to do so Astarion had to lean in somewhat, and she took the opportunity to step closer to his body, the skirt bunching up between them.

Meiros had already walked away, talking to a passing guest. Corrinne shot Astarion a coy look; Astarion - and through him, Ban - felt her thigh press between his legs, hidden by the voluminous dress. Corrine ran her hand from his shoulder to his neck - Ban felt him shiver - and then dragged her nails down his chest to his hip. The thigh pressed against him harder. “We could sneak away for a few minutes, handsome,” she purred. “I don’t think your wife would mind.”

The effect was instantaneous. His thoughts flicked through old, haunting memories, his grip on her tightening incrementally. There was a boiling rage, a near-overwhelming urge to snap Corrinne’s neck - held back solely by the fact that he needed to be in Meiros’ good graces and the presence of the countless guests at the party.

“I am not interested,” he ground out, a sneer pasted on his face, “regardless of whether or not she would mind.”

Ban felt his impotent rage shifting into panic, held at bay and hidden behind the veneer of his cold dismissal. His breathing hitched, pulse picking up, posture stiffening; something that Corrinne seemed to have interpreted as interest, despite his words. She kept talking.

Ban’s eyes snapped back to him. He was still staring at her, expression blank, holding Corrinne’s elbow while she chattered away. Ban’s hand instinctively closed around the hilt of the sword she wasn’t carrying, bile rising in her throat. She felt warm all over, enraged, but in a way she’d never felt before. The feeling was completely foreign and it took her utterly by surprise, but it also felt like it was something that had always been a part of her, lying dormant until this moment.

She stood up.

As she began cutting her way through the crowd, Meiros wandered even further away, heading for the guest’s table. Thanking the gods for that small blessing, Ban reached Astarion’s side. She cleared her throat, leveling a searing glare at the vapid young woman and then at her hand, still caressing Astarion’s hip. “Kindly take your hand off my husband, if you want to keep it attached to your body.”

Corrine looked down at her, nose wrinkling. “You must be Missus Ancunín,” she said, offering a dainty hand, the same one she’d been touching him with. She had not backed away from Astarion, her body still pressed against his.

Ban did not take the proffered hand. “Indeed I am, and that’s my husband you are clinging to. How… unbecoming. You must be drunk, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” Ban replied coolly, “because I assume, were you in control of your faculties, you wouldn’t dream of offending your father’s guests in this manner. I’m quite sure your father would take a very dim view of you accosting his business partner with that thigh, Corrinne.”

She blanched, blinking furiously. “I- um…”

“Put your leg down, and take a step back. Unless you want me to either tell your father you’ve just groped a married man, who has important business dealings with him, or you want to wake up bloodied and broken on this ballroom floor. Either way,” she smiled pleasantly, “I’ll be the one going home with him. He is not yours, Corinne, and never will be.”

Through it all she could feel Astarion slowly calming. He slipped his hand away from Corrinne, trembling ever so slightly. As Ban finished speaking and Corinne stepped back, he finally moved, taking a step towards her.

Ban took his hand. He seemed to look at the ring on her finger for a long moment, then turned to the debutante. “Corrinne. Have a wonderful evening.” The words were completely devoid of emotion, and Ban felt a chill run up her spine.

She linked her arm through his and led the way, him trailing silently. Ban searched for somewhere private to take him. She spied a door, slightly ajar, and made a beeline for it, slipping in and shutting it behind them the moment they were inside.

It was a small study, and she immediately located an armchair. Her eyes returned to her husband’s face. He looked lost and a little scared; his eyes were blank, as if he wasn’t even in there.

“Are you okay?”

He blinked, then his expression snapped into one of chilly indifference. She noted it, the way his jaw clenched and was forcibly relaxed. “Fine,” he said, the falseness clear as day. He tugged at his sleeve. “That was nothing new. I’ve had my fair share of advances, and that was one of the most amateur attempts I’ve ever seen - to be expected of course, given her youth. One would ideally press their thigh in a grinding motion, not ram it straight up,” he scoffed.

She guided him towards the armchair. “Sit, Astarion.” He did so, but his mouth kept moving, a desperate attempt at feigning nonchalance.

“Of course I could have simply told her not to, or pushed her off, or threatened her - a million options, really - however, offending her father would not have been ideal for our plans. I-”

She knelt in front of him and grasped both of his hands. “Look at me. Take a deep breath, and just look at me.”

He trailed off, chest rising and falling far too rapidly for her liking. “I said I’m fine.”

“You are fine. You’re safe.” She kept her hands on his, avoiding touching him anywhere else, unsure what he could tolerate at the moment.

“Safe,” he repeated. “A fine sentiment, but we never really are, are we?” His shoulders finally sagged, the proud arch of his brow falling as his eyes fell shut. “It’s been more than a year since I’ve been… his, but it still haunts me as if it were merely yesterday.”

The trappings of power, of riches and decadent luxury - none of it mattered when he was faced with the memories of endless hands on him, of thighs pressed between his legs, of needing to slip deep into his mind to escape. It had been one thing to let the twins touch him and sit in his lap to maintain his facade in front of the other vampire lord - it was quite another to be randomly accosted and treated like property when he least expected it.

Ban looked at him, pained. “You were a slave for centuries, my love. It will take more than a year to recover from that. Things will get easier, but sometimes something will remind you of… before, and then it will come back. But I’ll always be here, to help you, to protect you when you need it.”

He smiled, leaning forwards to touch his forehead to hers; she sighed in relief.

“You’d think I’d remember that, but it always catches me off-guard.”

“It does so for me as well.” He sighed as she spoke and his breath fanned over her face. It was slowing, thankfully. “Can I…” she trailed off, and he opened his eyes. He gave a small huff of assent and her arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“You never have to ask, but I find myself grateful that you do.”

He was nestled between her breasts, eyes wide open. The slow ruffling of Ban’s hand through his hair was comforting, although the strands tickled his eyes. He shifted, placing his chin flat on her sternum. Ban returned his gaze.

“Decided you want to read more?” she asked.

“Wasn’t much help.” He rolled over, but grabbed the book anyway. It had been laying facedown on the page he’d given up at. “But I suppose I could give it another shot.” He propped the book on his chest as he leaned against the headboard.

She glanced at him. “I trust your conversation with Meiros went well, at least?”

He grunted, flipping to another page. She waited for a response - none came.

“And?”

He flipped another page, far too fast to actually be reading it. “And things are proceeding as planned. Like I’ve said, Ban. Let me handle it.” There it was again, that edge in his voice.

He hadn’t spoken much after the party. They had gone home, and bathed, but he’d been mostly silent throughout. She’d given him his space, scrubbed him down and allowed him to wash her as they usually did, but then they’d gone to bed and he’d immediately buried himself in his book with nary a word in her direction.

She bit back the urge to simply ignore his distress and leave him be. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Crimson eyes flicked over her for a second - she noted the way his gaze raked over her features, another tell - and he exhaled. “The novel is trite, dry, and the heroine dully heroic.”

Ban covered her face with her hands, choking back a frustrated groan. Do better. “That’s not what I asked, and we both know it. This… isn’t about Corrinne, is it? Or if it is, there’s more.”

Astarion snapped the book shut. It was uncommon for her to see his ire nowadays, much less to be the object of it, but there it was. He exhaled through his nose. “You loathed it when I prodded you. Must you do the same?”

The response died in her mouth. She wasn’t sure how to address it - in the past, stoking the fires of his anger had been a thoughtless thing, fighting back with barbed words second nature - but not anymore. Not that she didn’t feel the petty desire to do so rising in her throat, but she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

She thought for a moment, choosing her next words with care. “Just as I’ve learned to try to open up to you, I hope you will do the same for me.” Taking the book from his hands, she set it down and leaned over. “May I?”

At his nod, she laid over his chest, her head settling against his heart. “You don’t need to. I just want you to feel better,” she murmured.

He was quiet, reaching over to pick the book back up again. The minutes passed, one to ten to thirty, the only sound the occasional turning of pages and the scratch of his fingers against paper, his breathing, and the painfully fast heartbeat thrumming beneath her ear.

She waited.

“No use feigning sleep,” Astarion finally drawled. “You’re mad, aren’t you?”

“Frustrated. Concerned. Not mad.” She felt him shift, his muscled chest rippling under her as he placed an arm under his head, the book still in the other.

“Now you know how it feels,” he said under his breath. As he did so his pulse hammered harder, and Ban decided enough was enough. She placed a hand on his chest, beside her face, watching the ring glint in the moonlight.

“Does that give you some sort of satisfaction? Because I’d understand if it did. But I’d prefer we talk about it.”

That took him by surprise. His eyes locked onto her, wide. She met them without hesitation, watching his expression soften as he finally gave in.

“One - I have no idea who I married a tenday ago, because I’m not exactly sure it’s the Ban I knew.” He laughed humorlessly. “Two - it might be silly,” he looked away, “but I’d thought this would all be… if not over, at least… lessened.”

He set the book down by his side and wrapped an arm around her. “I’m no idiot. I am aware it doesn’t ever truly fade away, but today it caught me unawares.”

“I can’t blame you for that. You haven’t had any encounters like that in a while, nor should you have to expect them in the first place.” The hand on his chest closed into a fist. “If it were not for her father I’d have beaten her where she stood.”

He shrugged. “That’s… not my concern at the moment.” Ban sighed - she had been right. There was more.

“Then what is it?”

She watched his lips part, fangs peeking as he licked his lips nervously. “I worry that in a century, or in five centuries, this will still happen. That it will keep happening again and again, in moments when I least expect it. I will freeze as I did today. It will feel like nothing has changed, no matter how much time has passed. I may never fully…heal.” He took a deep breath, her head rising and falling with it, his heart racing as he finally spoke the fears he’d been haunted by the past few hours. “You’d be spending eternity bound to a pathetic, broken, man.”

Ban shook her head; she couldn’t help taking offense. “I fell in love with you the way you are. Why worry about that? Do you think I’m still that selfish, that I still require you to be a certain way to love you? Because - well, I understand and I’m still working on it, but truly?”

“No. I merely pity you for having to deal with it. I thought the wedding would…” a growl ripped through him, “...would at least fix something.”

“A wedding doesn’t guarantee everything will be sunshine afterwa-”

“Well it should!”

She flinched. He tightened his grip on her. “I worry about how this will affect us, in the long term.” He raised her hand to the light, admiring the ring on her finger. “Affect our marriage. I could not forgive myself if I lost this simply because I couldn’t let go of the ghosts of the past. I worry that I will whittle your patience down into nothing; that with each incident I further drain the wellspring of your heart dry.”

“Astarion.” He let her hand go, eyes snapping back to her face. “Listen. When I made my vows, they were made for both the good and the bad. I love you. All of you. That includes this, and whatever other worries you have. I love you-” she poked his chest, “and everything that comes with you, ghosts included. Maybe it will take a century, or five, or maybe it will never fully heal. But either way, I will be here, and I will help you, and protect you, and love you through it all. No matter how many Corinnes come our way.” She poked the tip of his nose. He wrinkled it in response, apparently still unwilling to let his pique go.

“There will be many, Ban. There will always be more. Men and women, everywhere we go. Unwelcome as it is,” and there it was again, the way his eyes scanned her face, “they will keep coming. They will keep seeing you as a trivial obstacle in their path, and they will be wrong, but they will think it and try all the same.”

“And that bothers you, because…”

“Does it not bother you?”

It was her turn to look away. She was silent for a beat. “It does. A lot.”

“Oh, it does?” His mouth showed the beginnings of a small snarl. “You seem wholly unfazed by it. Ban, always the picture of indifference, even as some woman-”

“I wanted to rip her head off! Is that what you want to hear?”

He froze, then the edges of his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Precisely that, yes. You never understood, thinking it was the mere desire to own you that ruled me.”

Ban shifted, resting her chin on his sternum. He took a deep breath. “I made mistakes. I sought to keep you in a way that was twisted. But some of it…” he seemed to have finally cooled off, softly stroking her cheek, “...some of it I still feel was valid.”

“Halsin.”

Astarion nodded. “There is… was, a lot of indignation due to the fact that you brought me to his camp, without feeling it necessary to tell me why, or anything else at all, for that matter. That you didn’t respect me, or us, enough to communicate.” He bit his lip, and she shook her head.

“I won’t be mad, or punish you. Please. Keep going.”

“I thought you wished to rekindle whatever you two had, whether it be for a tryst or for something more serious. At the time I said you were not mine to hoard in such a manner, but…”

She felt him tense underneath her, and nuzzled his chest encouragingly. He ran his hands through the back of her hair in silent gratitude.

“You understand that some of what I felt was warranted, do you not?” He searched her face, and she reached up to cup his cheek. “Please.” He shut his eyes. “Tell me you do.”

“I do. The idea that you could be taken from me, even unwillingly… It made me so angry. Just seeing her touch you… I think it finally sank in.” She cleared her throat. “I understand that taking you to Halsin like that was uncalled for, and you deserved better. I handled it especially badly, given the fact that he and I…”

He flapped a hand. “That we have talked about. It was the visit that I’ve never dared bring up.”

“You worried that I’d leave you over it.”

“That, and that you wouldn’t understand.” He opened his eyes again, met hers with a sad smile. He ruffled her hair. “You’ve spent so long bristling under men who sought to own you that you never learned that belonging to someone can also be a beautiful thing. I have been yours throughout our time together, and it has given me nothing but safety, care, and love.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “You… that was legitimately the last thing I expected to hear from you.”

“I spent two centuries learning what it meant to be someone’s property,” he reminded. “Cazador owned me. I belong to you. There’s a vast difference. And you? You are mine.” The last word was growled, and Ban felt heat pool between her legs. He lifted her hand, the one with his ring on it. “Belonging to you is no curse, binding myself to you no hardship. That is what I wish for you to comprehend - that my jealousy is not monstrous, as misguided as my first times feeling it were.”

“You want what we have to be respected. By me, by everyone.”

“And for you to see that I don’t wish to own you, but I do want you to belong to me and only me.”

Ban considered this, considered the venomous fury that had risen in her at the sight of Corrinne pressed against her husband. That rage, the split-second urge to sink fangs into her neck and drink her dry, or break every one of her bones… It had been powerful. It had come after the initial concern for Astarion, of course, but it had been there, surprising her with its intensity.

To belong. Still a bit frightening to her, but she could not deny his words - could not deny the way she’d felt tonight, nor deny the ring on her finger.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she said, the words slipping out with ease, to her relief. “I couldn’t understand it, or even imagine how it would feel, until today.”

Astarion’s tension ebbed, the lines on his face easing as he exhaled. His hand drifted away from her to pick up the book. “Thank you. I think I shall rest easier knowing that.”

“You’ll still be reading, though?” She nodded at the book.

“I’m afraid sleep will come with far less ease than it usually does tonight. Not your fault,” he added quickly.

“Then I’ll keep you company.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then began to read the book, flicking back a few pages to where he’d actually last understood what his eyes were running over. As he did Ban settled against his sternum, the now-slow beating of his heart lulling her into sleep, much as she fought it.

As she lost the fight and her eyelids drooped shut Astarion watched, amused. He didn’t move her, eyes moving back to his book. It helped that she understood, but he couldn’t help the small pang of worry that niggled at his mind still.

The rite had not fixed him, nor had his marriage. Would time really do so? A foolish thought, he knew, expecting all of his wounds to be healed by a simple ceremony, but part of him had… hoped. It had been largely absent in his mind until today’s painful reminder, and he wished he could have ripped that girl apart for her insolence. Instead he had frozen, mind searching for his wife’s, seeking solace.

He flipped to the next page. None of the words made sense.

And if time failed to heal those wounds, would it one day push them apart? He could almost taste it for a brief moment, the vision filling his mind-

Ban, in her armor and with her weapon slung over her shoulder. Servants hurrying out, bags and bags of her clothes and belongings carried to their carriage. He could see himself on his throne, the house already cold and tomblike, as if it was already mourning her departure. He would have his hands gripping the armrests, digging in until they cracked, resisting the urge to drag her back in, because he refused to do that ever again, even if losing her again would kill him. But every fiber of him would want to.

He would let the flowers wilt, let the palace fall into ruin. He would rot, because there would be nothing else for him, and nothing would matter but her memory. He would wander these empty halls and wait, deluding himself that she’d be back, because she’d come back once, hadn’t she? Perhaps he would seek an end to his misery. Create spawn, unleash whatever chaos he could, hoping someone would lop his miserable head off his shoulders. Perhaps she would. Or perhaps he would find her, beg for her return. She would do so again wouldn’t she, she wouldn’t leave, please, never again-

“Astarion.”

He flinched, looking down at her. She rubbed his chest.

“You were breathing hard. I could hear your heart pounding.” She crawled upwards so that they were eye to eye.

“Oh.” He waved the book at her. “Exciting part came up. It wasn’t all drivel after all.”

She raised an eyebrow, and he exhaled. There would be no way to fool her. “Too many thoughts,” he finally said. “Too many fears, ones that I’m afraid even the sweetest words cannot assuage. There’s no scrying the future, after all.”

“No.” She shook her head. “We can only really see today. And today, you are mine, and you are loved.” She pressed her lips against his, a chaste, gentle kiss that he couldn’t help but deepen. His hand fisted in her hair, gripping hard. The other wrapped around her waist, pressing her against him, his hips grinding against hers, the intent clear.

“Promise me,” he hissed, “that I will always be yours.”

She nodded, but that wasn’t enough. He pulled at her hair, tugging her head back. “Say it.”

“You’re mine,” she growled, slowly moving lower as the hand on her hair guided her downwards. There was a catch in her voice as she said it.

“Don’t hold back,” Astarion snarled, pulling the sheets off them. He could see the simmering anger behind her gaze, held at bay for most of the night, for his sake. “I don't need you to be proper. Show me who I bel- fuck.”

She had grasped his cock, given it a long, slow stroke. His expression softened as she licked along the shaft to the tip. She licked off a bead of precum, savoring the salty, tangy taste that was purely him. Her eyes searched his. “I wasn't sure if I should touch you. If tonight that would be welcome or not. But I'm glad you wanted to. I… I need it too.”

At that she swallowed him down, suckling his head, her tongue swirling in a teasing circle. Bucking helplessly against her, Astarion groaned, hand tightening in her hair. Her fingers stroked the rest of him, her other hand fondled his balls. It felt good - wonderful, even - and much needed, but-

He nudged her then got on his knees, cock proudly jutting out, glistening with her saliva, begging to be sucked. Ban thankfully understood, getting on all fours. He looked at her for a long moment, taking everything in - the swell of her ass, her muscled back and shoulders, her eyes filled with desire for him.

“My sweet Ban. Always eager to please,” he purred.

Her mouth took him in, deeper this time, the sudden return of warmth and suction causing his hips to jerk. He fucked her mouth, leaning back to support himself, hips rolling slowly, soft moans the only sound from his lips. He relished the feel of her swallowing around him, tongue laving its attention on every part of his cock. She was his, and he was hers. He tilted his head back, lost in the ocean of his desire.

Only she would be allowed to touch him like this, to see him like this, to love him like this. She wanted him - but not just that. Loved him. The real him. Not just his face, or his body, or his honeyed words. The true core of him. The good, and the bad, and the pieces he would show no one but her.

He threaded his fingers into her hair once more, enjoying the feeling of holding her while she claimed him. She brought one of her hands up to grip his hip and pull him further down her throat, her nails digging into the side of his ass hard enough to bruise. He let out a loud groan, her forcefulness driving him to the brink.

Hers. He was hers no matter what anyone else said or did, and the way she was swallowing him down right now - not even breathing, just burying him deep into her throat with an aggression he rarely saw from her - told him she also wanted to be reassured of that same fact.

“Show me,” he gasped, lost to the building pressure in his balls, thighs burning, “show me exactly who I belong to, who I give myself to, the only one who will ever make me co-”

She gave him one long, hard suck, tongue flicking against his underside, up to the slit of his cock, her loud moan vibrating against his cockhead, and he came apart, erupting into her mouth with one last hard thrust and a wild, needy groan. She swallowed, humming appreciatively as she did, intensifying his pleasure as her throat pulsed around him. She continued swirling her tongue around his length until he finally pulled out, gasping. Ban sat up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, her eyes dark with possessiveness and satisfaction.

“Mine. I promise you that.”

He felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine. He was so relieved she finally understood.

The night passed in relative peace after that, with Ban asleep on his chest as he read. His mind was at ease, and the words on the pages finally made sense.

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Part 1 Part 2

The rain comes on heavier as Eddie starts up Steve’s car, drives away. Dustin shuts the van door and glances over his shoulder to see Steve stretching out along the couple of seats in the back that Eddie usually reserves for his guitars. It doesn’t even look like Steve wants to be lying down, more that his body is just demanding to be horizontal.

Dustin sits down right on the floor, his head by Steve’s feet. Steve shuffles with a grunt, making room for him on the seats, but Dustin doesn’t take up the offer.

“Your ass is gonna go numb,” Steve says tiredly.

“No it won’t.”

Steve gives an exhausted kind of snort. “Uh, yeah it will,” he says—in that affected drawl he loves to use whenever he decides to contradict Dustin for the stupidest of reasons.

Dustin rolls his eyes. He’s about to tell Steve to shut up, but then he hears Steve sucking in deliberate breaths, holding them with clenched teeth. It kind of reminds him of when someone tries to cure their own hiccups, but he at least knows that’s not the case here.

“G,” Dustin declares.

Steve sighs. “Oh, fuck you. Um…”

His breathing evens out a bit as he thinks. It’s a recurring game they’ve got: shouting out a random letter and seeing if the other person can name a movie in ten seconds or less. Lately, Steve’s taken to smugly saying a letter just as Dustin takes a large bite of food, which Dustin calls “cheating” and Steve calls “strategy.”

“Ghostbusters,” Steve says with a little smirk.

“Acceptable,” Dustin concedes.

“Hey, remember your Halloween costume?” Steve says, sitting up a little on his elbows; his smile turns more fond than teasing. “Your mom kept showing me the pictures for months.” He looks off into the distance for a moment, like he’s seeing them all over again. He blinks, then says, “You were tiny, Henderson.”

It’s not said condescendingly, not in the syrupy kind of way that some distant family friends would mean it. More like he’s just bewildered by the passing of time.

So Dustin doesn’t grumble at the remark. Instead he says, “Mom’s out of town tonight.”

“Christmas shopping?” Steve asks.

“Nope.” Dustin tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. “Cousin Marlene.”

When Steve just looks blankly at him, Dustin huffs. “Come on, seriously? Didn’t I tell you?”

“Last thing you told me was her perm went wrong.”

“Oh,” Dustin says, mollified. “Okay, you’re missing an update. Henry’s cheating on her.”

“God, she can’t catch a break. Who’s the—”

But Dustin’s already doing a drum roll on his knees. “Julie.”

Steve sits up a little more, gapes. “No. Is that the one who—?”

“The leader of the PTA!”

Steve clicks his fingers. “See, I told you, I told you, she was bad news.”

“Yeah, it’s a mess.”

Steve lies back down, one hand behind his head. “Tell me?” His eyes shut for a moment, and when they open, his lids look heavy.

Dustin gets up to the third phone call Cousin Marlene had made when Steve’s eyes don’t open again. It seems completely involuntary, the frown he still wears in his sleep betraying his discomfort. It makes Dustin think of whenever he was sent home sick from school, dragged down into a restless sleep that just made his head pound afterwards.

There’s the sound of a car pulling up. Dustin moves to sit in the passenger seat, looks through the window and sees Eddie jumping out of a Chevy. He gives a very polite wave that in another circumstance, Dustin would find hilarious. The car drives off again.

When Eddie sees Steve sleeping in the back, he lets out a soft, “Oh,” and shuts the door as quietly as he can. He hesitates in starting up the engine, whispers, “I don’t wanna wake him.” When he does turn onto the road, Dustin feels like it’s the smoothest he’s ever seen him drive.

“Didn’t spook your ride too bad?” Dustin asks in an undertone.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up. “Yeah, hopefully not. Nice lady. Apparently Steve feeds her cat when she’s on vacation.” He glances at the rearview mirror. His voice lowers even more when he says, “How was he?”

Dustin pauses. He looks back at Steve—still asleep, occasionally half-mouthing words he can’t hope to decipher.

“I… I don’t know what was…” Dustin sighs, feels useless again. “Eddie, he was crying.”

Eddie clicks his tongue unhappily. He pulls up to Steve’s driveway, stops a little distance away from where Steve’s car is already parked.

Eddie cuts the engine. Steve doesn’t stir. The rain, if possible, gets even heavier.

Eddie looks out at the house, deep in thought. “Spare key still under the mat?”

Dustin shrugs. “Should be.”

Another pause. Eddie nods. “Okay, I’m gonna—get a change of clothes for him, and then we can, uh, figure out what to—”

But when he opens the door, Steve sits up with a gasp.

Eddie twists in his seat. “Woah, hey, you’re—”

“Thanks for the ride,” Steve bites out, and he shoves past them both without another word, steps out into the rain.

“Hey, wait a second,” Eddie says, and Dustin can tell that he’s trying to sound calm and just missing the mark; the words come out too quickly, too frantic.

But the panic tugs at Dustin, too; he watches as Steve heads into the house, and can’t help but feel that he’s watching something slip away.

It frightens him.

He darts around Eddie, the soles of his sneakers smacking on the wet driveway. He runs, can hear Eddie calling after him.

“Dustin, wait!”

But he ignores him, flying through the front door, then suddenly feels Eddie’s arm cutting across, blocking his path forward.

He’s about to complain, to push him away.

But then he sees the glass on the floor.

The hallway is a mess: there’s a clear vase broken into pieces; on a long, wooden table, the phone lies off the hook—even more than that, the handset is cracked in several places. Dustin can see dents in the table from where the phone must’ve been smashed against it; he can picture it, suddenly, even though he’s never seen such a thing, never known Steve to lose control like that. Can see him bringing the phone down again and again…

A crunch of glass underfoot as Eddie moves in front of him. Eddie carefully kicks a few shards to the side. He looks behind him, catches Dustin’s eye and says, “Careful.”

They cautiously move through the hallway into the kitchen. Dustin lets Eddie take the lead—finds himself caught short in the doorway at the sight of Steve standing in the kitchen, both hands braced against the counter, head bowed.

Eddie stops a couple of steps away from him. “Steve. Hey. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Steve says. He raises his head and turns to Eddie, one hand still gripping the counter, almost like he needs something to keep himself standing. “Phone lines are down here, think a tree fell or something. It’s really nothing.”

“Steve,” Eddie says simply, in a tone that clearly means it’s not nothing.

But Steve looks over at Dustin, addresses him. “It’s fine. I’m—you can go, seriously. Just… I’m fine.”

Dustin doesn’t know what to say.

Eddie takes another step forward. “Steve,” he repeats.

“Please,” Steve says. His voice is breaking. “Please just leave it alone.”

Silence.

“I can’t do that,” Eddie says, like it’s destroying him to say it.

Steve moves forward now, and he shoves Eddie back with both hands—and Dustin has seen Steve in a fight, has seen him be mean, and this is none of those things. It’s something desperate and afraid.

“Why not?” Steve breathes. He pushes again, but it hardly even jostles Eddie, Steve’s strength wavering. “Why not?”

“Because,” Eddie whispers, and he pulls Steve’s hands off his jacket and just holds onto them. “I care about you.”

Steve’s face crumples. For a split second, Dustin worries that he’ll pull away, but then he falls against Eddie, and Eddie holds him up as he quietly starts to cry.

“This is so,” Steve chokes, breathes raggedly, “so fucking stupid.”

He keeps repeating it, so fucking stupid, over and over.

“No,” Eddie says. He sways just a little, one hand stroking through Steve’s hair, right down to the back of his neck. “Shh. You’re okay, oh, you’re okay.”

Dustin steps further into the room. He wants to somehow find something that can make this all better—knows there’s more to be fixed than a broken phone. “You’ve gotta get out of this house,” Eddie murmurs, lips almost touching Steve’s temple. “Okay? How about…”

But he trails off, and Dustin knows that he was about to suggest that Steve stay at his—can already tell, from the way that Steve tenses near imperceptibly, that the suggestion would create a stalemate.

Dustin can read it in Steve’s hunched shoulders that if Eddie offers his place, to Steve it’ll feel like he’s imposing or some bullshit like that; he’ll dig his heels in, facing another night alone and…

Eddie bites down hard on his lip again; Dustin can practically hear his panicked train of thought.

And now he knows what to do.

“Stay at mine,” he says, and both Steve and Eddie look over at him. “Mom says I need “adult supervision” if I’m home alone, but you’ll do, I guess.”

It’s technically the truth, apart from the fact that Dustin had planned to have a sleepover with Lucas tonight, but well. Details.

Eddie’s eyes are shining with gratitude.

“A thankless job, huh?” he says, gently nudging Steve. “But I guess someone’s gotta do it.”

Steve exhales. His eyes meet Dustin’s before darting away, and Dustin hates that he looks ashamed.

“Okay,” Steve says.

#just 3 parts i said. & like steve i was lying to myself #steve and dustin #dustin henderson fic #steddie with dustin’s pov #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie and dustin #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve x eddie #henderfam

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intoanotherworld23 · 1 year

Text

Princes Choice II

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: None maybe just some minor tension

Summary: Everyone knows about the royal family the Evanses, especially their promiscuous son, Chris. Then one night they invite all the women, and their parents to a ball to make a major announcement that will change your life forever

✨Please do not copy and paste my work or steal it or take credit for it without my permission or else I will have you reported✨

Part 1

"Is there a guest room where I can stay?" Politely asking the queen as you stood in Chris's massive bedroom. "I just don't feel comfortable staying here just yet."

"Oh is something the matter?" She genuinely looked concerned that something happened between you and her son.

"No nothings wrong." Waving your hands back and forth relief flushed across her face. "It's just I would feel much better with my own room at least until I start getting to know him better."

"Of course we've prepared one for you just in case." She smiled warmly at you as she led you further down the hall. "If you'll follow me."

There were no way in hell that you were going to be staying in the same bed as him. He'd probably jump you first thing, and then say he was bored or make up some lame reason to break it off. Not doubting his natural talent for lying just to get what he wants.

Although his mother looked a tad disappointed when you made the comment you did. Almost like she expected you to just accept everything, and enjoy jumping in his bed. She was also probably just thrilled that he picked someone to marry anyway.

"Your here as a guest you know." She spoke as you looked over at her. "You can leave anytime you want."

"I guess I'm just still having a hard time believing that he picked me to be his wife." Her eyes remained straight ahead.

"I honestly didn't believe he would pick someone either." She admitted with a chuckle. "He was so against this at first, and when he knew we were serious he accepted things."

"Has he ever wanted to marry?" Timidly asking her as she looked over at you this time.

"Never. He's been against marriage ever since he was a young boy." Her words didn't comfort you, but the smile she gave you suggested he's changed.

"I hope this is more to your liking." Stepping into another large room this one feeling more warm and comforting.

"This is perfect." You smiled turning to face the queen. "Thank you so much."

"Chris is in his study right now, but he should be down by dinner time." She informed you even though you didn't ask.

"What time is dinner?"

"Dinner will be served by eight." Talking about food had your stomach grumbling.

"Should I wear anything specific?" Looking down at your jeans and shirt feeling like a slob compared to her.

"A dress would be appropriate." Nodding your head noticing your discomfort right away. "But you wear whatever feels comfortable to you."

"Thank you your majesty." Bowing your head down.

"Please call me Lisa."

"Thank you.. Lisa." You we're just glad she was sweet and kind, and not rude and cruel like some people said she was.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked hands clasped in front of her.

"Oh no thank you I'm good." Bowing her head down to you.

"If you need anything at all please don't hesitate to let me know." Nodding back at her as she curtsied turning back around to walk back down the hall.

Plopping down on the bed the thick comforter cushioning your bottom as you looked around. Leaning back on the palms of your hands shaking your head back and forth not believing you were actually here. Wondering if maybe you were just dreaming this, and you couldn't find it in yourself to wake up.

Your mother bawled the whole time as you packed. Rolling your eyes as she told story after story of when you were little. She was more happy about this marriage then you were. Your father really didn't show too much expression, but he didn't dare to object to this marriage. Your mother would kill him.

Standing up you went over to your small bags of personal items figuring this was a good a time as any to start unpacking. This was going to be your new life now, and you might as well start accepting it. Plus you might be able to divorce him and then be done with him.

"Miss Y/L/N." A deep voice rang on the other side of the door catching your attention.

"Come in." Clearing your throat as you stood up a young man opening the door a tray in his hand.

"Sorry ma'am I was asked to bring some food to your room." His tone soft and gentle he was a good looking man.

"Oh okay thanks." Placing the tray on the table as you awkwardly stood there.

"You must be the lucky bride to be." He spoke as he stood by the door hands behind his back.

"Yep I'm the golden ticket winner." Jokingly answering which he thankfully found amusing.

"Not what you wanted huh?" His question caught you a little off guard not expecting someone like him to be talking to you like this.

"Well I'm not exactly fond of what you'd call an arranged marriage." Raising your fingers in an air quote motion.

"Yeah I wouldn't be happy if I had to marry him either." Raising your brows at him to explain further. "He's what you'd call a spoiled little boy who likes to play with his favorite toys."

"Doesn't surprise me." You scoffed realizing that night he talked to you was all a front. "I should have known he was that kind."

"That's usually how he does it. Sweet talks them, gets them into bed, and then once he's done with them he tosses them into the dirt."

"How do you know so much?" You asked him placing your hands on your hips.

"I've seen it way too many times." His tone sympathetic towards you with this information. “So many beautiful women hurt.”

"Great." Grumbling under your breath as he laughed.

"You'll be fine. The service here is great, and the food and wine is even better." He joked teasingly cracking a smile on your lips.

"Well keep the bottles of wine coming." Pointing a finger at him with a serious but playful look on your face.

"Will do ma'am." Nodding his hand at your request.

"Please call me Y/N." Waving your hand at him. "What's your name?"

"It's Sebastian Stan."

"Well its nice to meet you Sebastian." Smiling widely at him as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Staring at him for quick minute you took in such boyish qualities about this man. His eyes were soft and his skin looked smooth and warm. There was something about this man that had you feeling a sense of comfort. He seemed like he genuinely had a good heart, and wondered why you couldn't marry someone like him.

"How are you liking the castle?" He curiously asked just wanting to make small talk.

"It's a little overwhelming I gotta admit." You chuckled nervously. "I think I'm gonna need a map or something."

"The longer you stay the more familiar you'll become with the place." His words were an attempt to make you feel better. "Soon you'll know this place like the back of your hand."

"I don't know I have trouble with the backs of my hands sometimes." Cracking a lame joke but it earned you a soft chuckle.

"I should get back to my duties." Turning around to face the door. "Please let me know if you need anything."

Shutting the door behind him as you walked over to the silver tray covered in different little sandwiches and fruits. Thank god his mother caught on to how hungry you were otherwise you would have fainted before dinner.

Smacking your lips together as you devoured the sandwiches moaning at how good everything tasted. This was the best sandwich that you've ever tasted, and couldn't wait for dinner now. Wondering what kinds of delicious meals they would have prepared for you tonight.

Speaking of tonight you needed to figure out what you were going to wear. She told you to dress comfortably but you wanted to look like you belonged. Even if it wasn't exactly the ideal situation you were still living in a castle with the royal family.

Walking over to the book case with many shelves filled with books. Reading the different titles until something stood out to you. Landing on something interesting as you got into bed figuring make time go faster by reading until it was dinner time.

Looking at the clock you figured you might as well start looking for something to wear. Removing your shirt and bra tossing them in air, but not hearing them hit the ground. Shrugging it off as you walked over to the closet to find a dress. Hands on your hips as your eyes raked across the different clothes they already had packed.

"Now you just need to take your pants off." A deep voice startling you with a jump.

"What the fuck?" You screamed at the smirking man your arms covering your breasts.

"Don't stop dressing on my account." He actually dared to step closer to you making you back up into the dresser. "Not the first time I've seen a naked woman before."

"How long have you been standing there?" You asked him curiously.

"Not long enough apparently." His eyes trailing your figure then landing back on yours.

"Spy on a lot women do ya?" Your remark and tone condescending.

"I've never had the need to spy on women." He responded back truthfully. "I usually get what I want."

"God you're a pig." Scoffing at the man disliking the way he talked about women.

"You still need to take your pants off sweetheart." Looking down at your legs picturing what you looked like underneath.

"Get out." Nodding your head back towards the door but he just simply smiled back at you. "Now."

"That's no way to speak to your fiancé." Tsking like a parent scorning their child.

"Technically you've never asked me so." Feeling proud that you were right on this matter.

"Okay." Watching as he got down on one knee and you immediately started to panic.

"Well don't ask me now." Barking at him as he smiled at your reaction.

"Whatever you say sweetheart." Chuckling as he stood up with groan. "But you will become my wife."

"Yeah when hell freezes over." Grumbling under your breath but he heard it anyway.

"I can have that arranged for you if you'd like." He always had something to say back.

"Not surprised you're probably butt buddies with the devil himself." Sneering at him watching his smile slowly fading.

Not saying a word Chris stomped towards you until his chest was practically pressed up against you. Staring at you his nostrils flaring every time he inhaled. Your body was frozen to the ground unable to move. You could actually feel the heat radiating from his body.

Staring deep into his eyes as they slowly started to turn dark. He was trapping you like some helpless little animal. As much as you wanted to run away from him you couldn't find it in yourself to do that. As much as you wanted to smack him from trying to watch you change you couldn't.

His head leaning forward so his lips were barely touching the skin of your shoulder. Chris inhaling deeply to get a whiff of your scent moaning quietly his approval. You on the other hand were breathing heavily your chest heaving up and down. Your stomach was doing somersaults, and you were failing at trying to remain calm.

"If I were you I would stay on my good side." He whispered into your ear his breath hitting your skin making goosebumps appear.

"I didn't realize you had a good side." Blurting out before you could stop yourself his mouth barely touching you as he smirked loving how you didn't take his crap.

"That mouth is going to get you in trouble." Feeling his lips drag across the side of your neck to your shoulder leaving a tingling feeling on your skin.

You don't know what it was or what was happening, but you found yourself for a brief moment not wanting him to move. He smelled so good you wanted to just wrap your arms around him and hold on until your arms gave up. It was like he had you under some kind of spell and you couldn't snap out of it.

There was so much tension between you two you could cut it with a knife. Chris just wanting nothing more than to press his lips against yours. You needed to break free from this trance before something happened between you two.

"Can you please leave so I can finished getting changed?" Your voice cracked and you knew Chris could hear it, but you just hoped he wouldn't say anything.

"Well since you've asked nicely." Pushing himself away from you with restraint.

Turning around to walk back towards the door stopping with his hand on the ledge. His head facing you as he looked at you with almost a look of concern of worry. Scrunching your face as you choked back whether he should say something or not.

“I never told you this but you are absolutely positively gorgeous.” You almost rolled your eyes at his sweet and tender words.

“You probably have that line memorized saying it so many times.” Scoffing as you crossed your arms across your chest.

“True but I’ve never meant it before.” He smiled genuinely making it hard for you to not smile back. “There’s just something about you.”

His eyes didn’t wonder up and down your body like you expected him to. Instead they remained glued to yours. The corner of your lip twitching as you fought to smile at him or say anything back. You felt bad not responding, but you wanted him to know that you weren’t going to fall so easily for his games.

"If you meet Sebastian Stan please stay away." Moving your head back confused to what the meaning of his words meant.

"And why should I?" You bit back.

"Just please stay away from him he's not who you think he is." Was his last warning before he shut the door behind him. The hell did he mean by that.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #chris evans fic #chris evans series #chris evans imagine

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uniquevoidflowers · 11 days

Text

Welp, I got a lot of brainrot for a LU AU so I'm dumping some writing here!

It's a royal au basically. (in a more modern setting ig)

Words: 2066

“Could you please, at least try to be nice to the nobles tonight?” Sun asked, braiding Legend’s hair. “It’s just for tonight, I promise.”

The Prince glared daggers at the ground but he agreed anyway. “They’re all so stuck-up.”

“I know. I don’t like them either.” Sun admitted. “However, we did invite someone I think you’ll enjoy meeting. You can spend time with her if you’d like.”

“Are you trying to set me up with someone?”

Sun laughed and shook her head with a fond smile. “Although, I heard from a certain someone that she’s quite the catch.”

“Whatever, Mom.”

The Queen finished braiding strawberry-blonde hair and stood up, dusting off her dress. “You’ve got awhile until then though. What are you planning to do with all this free-time?”

“I dunno.”

That was a lie. Legend knew exactly what he was going to do. Sun just raised a brow slightly, that smile still on her face. “Well, I’ll leave you to not know, then.”

“Thanks.” Legend said sarcastically.

“You’re welcome!” Sun left out the door, and the Prince grabbed a note, quickly scribbling down some off-handed explanation before changing and grabbing a bag.

“Again, Your Highness?” Warrior called, a smirk on his lips.

The Prince startled, nearly dropping the bag. “Yeah, so?”

“May I accompany you this time?”

“...Fine. Don’t be weird.”

“Whenever am I weird, Your Highness? I am as normal as they come.”

“You’re being weird right now. It’s Legend.” Legend stressed. “Now, follow me.”

Legend climbed out the window of his bedroom and turned his head to make sure the knight was following behind him. “Keep up!”

The knight in question rolled his eyes. The prince grinned and slid down the roof, before grabbing onto a ledge and lowering himself to the ground. He hurried out of someone’s way and waited patiently until Warrior was beside him. “Ugh, I should’ve gotten you to change. It’s not everyday a knight just walks in town.” Legend grumbled.

Warrior just took off his armour, a green tunic and brown trousers serving as clothes. He kept his signature blue scarf on though. Legend walked past hundreds of strangers, face low. “Am I going to meet these friends I keep hearing all about?” Warrior asked.

The prince shrugged. “We’ll see, I guess.”

The knight grumbled something under his breath, unimpressed. Legend just continued on his way until they came across a house. He knocked slightly. After a few moments the door opened. “Oh, it’s you!” Wind greeted, a grin on his face. “Legend’s here!”

“Miss me?” Legend smirked and ruffled the younger’s hair.

“I told you to stop doing that!” Wind protested. “I’m fourteen!”

“A baby.”

“You’re only like, three years older than me.”

“Still. It makes a difference, Wind.”

Suddenly, Legend was met with an armful of Hyrule, the kid hugging him tightly. “Wait, who’s that?” Hyrule asked, peering at the knight behind them.

“Oh that’s Warrior, he’s a friend. He wanted to come with.” Legend waved his hand around dismissively.

“Nice to meet you.” Warrior greeted.

“Let them come inside!” Green yelled.

Wind and Hyrule moved and the two guests came inside. “So who’s he really?” Hyrule asked, with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“My knight.” Legend informed. “He’s weird, like us, don’t let his politeness fool you.”

“You guys can sit down.” Green said. “Do you want anything, Legend? Water?”

“I’m okay.” Legend shook his head. “So, what kinda chaos happened while I was gone?”

“Not much.” Hyrule said sadly. “It’s been boring.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Legend brought me here.” Warrior said, in a joking tone.

“Oh, shut up.”

“Never, Your Highness.”

“I told you not to call me that!”

Hyrule rolled his eyes at the two bantering. “At least the new guy fits in.” Wind said, nudging Hyrule slightly.

“So, what are you doing today Ledge?” Hyrule asked before the two could banter any more.

“Oh, not much. Tonight there’s some sort of event. A lot of nobles are coming to pester me.” Legend scowled.

“Sounds fun.” Blue said sarcastically, from across the room.

“My Mom says there’ll be someone to hang out with me...and that I’ll like meeting but...I dunno.” Legend informed.

“Is it a girl?” Hyrule said with a teasing lilt to his voice.

“I think so?” Legend replied, uncertainly.

“It is. A princess, at that.” Warrior said, looking smug.

Oh, so he knows too? Legend thought.

“A princess? From where?” Wind asked, curiously.

The knight shook his head with a smile. “I’m not supposed to share that information.”

“Did my mother put you up to this?” Legend scowled.

Warrior just continued smiling. Legend cursed under his breath. “She did!”

He was 100% sure Sun and Warrior were scheming behind his back, and he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. “Where’s Vio? And Red?” Wind asked. “I thought they’d be down here.”

“Vio’s upstairs, being his usual self.” Green answered. “Red’s knitting something in his room, he probably didn’t hear us or something.”

There was a knock on the door.

Legend slinked over to the couch alongside Warrior, not wanting to be recognized. Green answered the door this time. “Hello?”

“A letter for you, sir.” Whoever was at the door, said and then the door closed shut.

“Weird.” Wind piped up. “They usually just leave it at the door.”

“It’s for Vio.” Green said, shrugging. “VIO, YOU HAVE A LETTER!”

The person in question came and took the letter. “Thanks. Did you have to yell?”

“Very necessary.” Green hummed.

Vio pulled the letter out and a smirk found its way on his face. “Don’t worry, it’s a friend.”

“Good. Who is it?” Green asked.

Legend let the two talk, and turned back to Hyrule who was sitting beside him. “Wanna go for a walk or something?”

“Heck yes.” Hyrule stood up.

Warrior followed them outside, after telling Blue where they were going. “You know, I’m not sure what job I should take.” Hyrule said after a moment. “I’m not really good at much.”

“C’mon, you’re good at plenty of things!” Legend insisted.

“Like what?”

“Reading, for instance.”

“...Okay, but---”

“But nothing. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Rulie.”

Hyrule ducked his head and the prince patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be great at anything you pick.”

“...Okay.”

All of a sudden there was a clash of something metal and Legend spun around to see Warrior holding up against some figure in a cloak. “Nice reflexes, captain.”

“Stay back.” Warrior’s voice was cold. “Or I’ll make you.”

The cloaked figure merely chuckled. “Keep an eye on your friends. You wouldn’t want something to happen to them, right?”

Warrior pushed the blade off of the figure’s and continued to fight. Legend stood protectively over Hyrule, eyes darting everywhere in case someone else came. “What’s happening?” Hyrule whispered.

“I don’t know.” Legend murmured back.

Something grabbed the prince’s arm and Legend struggled but the grip was tight and unrelenting. “Ledge!” Hyrule gasped as someone pulled the prince away.

Legend saw the blade and paled. “Wars!”

Warrior turned his head back and his eyes widened slightly. “I’m coming!”

The knight kicked the cloaked figure to the ground and hurried to the prince. Legend gulped as the blade came closer to his neck. “Come closer, captain. See what happens.” The person restraining him taunted.

“Let him go.” Warrior demanded.

“Afraid of losing your job? This little prince will merely stand in our way later, so I’ll kill him. Unless, you think can stop me?” Legend could hear the words in his ears accompanied by heavy breathing.

Legend felt his blood run cold. Kill?

Warrior glanced at Hyrule before mouthing something and turning back to the person. “You still work with the people that betrayed you, Ghirahim?”

“Not with them. C’mon, I’m not that foolish. To tell you my real plans would be rather...idiotic shall we say, so if you expected me to reveal something you are very mistaken.” Ghirahim, apparently, said.

“If you won’t tell me your plan, tell me who you serve.” Warrior said.

“I think you know who I serve.” Ghirahim laughed. “Now, captain, do you have any last words for your Prince?”

The blade was pressed closer to Legend’s neck, and droplets of blood began to form. The prince was frozen, not daring to move a muscle. All of a sudden Ghirahim jerked and the blade cut Legend’s arm instead of his throat. Ghirahim’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fell to the ground. Legend yelped, seeing the blood trailing across his arm. Warrior quickly approached, and grabbed a piece of fabric from his bag, putting it down on the wound. “We need to get back.” Warrior urged.

“What was that?” Legend asked, voice growing more high-pitched.

“I’ll explain later, kid. Right now we need to go before he wakes up.” Warrior grabbed Legend’s arm and began to run, Hyrule following close behind.

They hurried back to Hyrule’s house where Green yelped seeing the blood trailing behind them. “What the hell happened to you guys?” Blue asked.

“Ran into someone. Do you guys have anything we can use to stitch up the wound?” Warrior asked, desperately.

“Yes.” Green said quickly and rushed off somewhere.

Warrior helped stitch up the arm, and Legend looked away. That was the first time something like that happened when he went out. What scared him was these people knew Warrior and clearly, they hated each other. “Wars, please explain.” Legend said.

“Not right now. I need to finish these stitches.” Warrior murmured.

Legend recognized that as a deflection, but he knew not to press any further. He wondered who the cloaked person fighting Warrior was, and why Ghirahim wanted to kill him. “Here.” Green handed a roll of bandages once Legend’s arm was stitched up and it was wrapped up with the white bandages.

“How am I going to explain this to Mom?” He frowned.

“Tell her about this maybe?” Green suggested.

“No.” Legend said immediately. “I’ll think of something.”

“Well, be careful out there.” Hyrule demanded, still a little pale. “That was close.”

“Don’t worry.” Legend said, hugging him. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got Wars.”

Legend still trusted Warrior, after everything that happened. Warrior shifted and opened the door, peering outside. Legend stood up, and after getting tackled into a hug by Wind, he left with his knight. Warrior let him borrow his scarf, to hide his face. The prince could tell Wars was now on edge, as he was constantly pulling Legend closer to him and hurrying away. They made it back to the castle where, Warrior brought him through the front door of the castle and back to the prince’s bedroom. Legend sat down on his bed with a sigh. “Now, are you going to explain?”

The knight gave a nod. “Ghirahim is apart of a group that wishes to eradicate the Royal Family. We have encountered before, and...I thought I’d killed him. Seems like he made it out alive, though.”

“Well, have you told my parents yet?” Legend crossed his arms. “This is a pretty big deal.”

“They know about the group, and their intentions already. The King himself defeated their leader.”

“...Okay.”

“Hey, everything will be okay. I’m here to protect you, if they try at it again.”

“I know, I trust you.”

He didn’t like feeling helpless in a situation like that, vulnerable enough that he could get killed if no one was there to rescue him. “Your Highness!” A voice from the door came.

“Come in.” Legend called.

Someone came in. “Your mother has called for you, if you’ll meet her at the throne room.”

“Thanks.” Legend grumbled, standing up.

He left with Warrior, hurrying to the throne room. “There you are.” Sun greeted, a smile on her face. “Your note said you were practicing archery, but I didn’t see you at the archery grounds.”

“Sorry, I left quite a bit ago.” Legend shrugged it off. “What did you call me for?”

“There’s something I’d like to discuss. With both you, and Warrior.” Sun answered, a shadow crossing her face.

#unique writes #linked universe #au #lu legend #lu warriors #lu hyrule #lu ghirahim #lu wind #lu green #lu blue #lu sun #this is entirely self indulgent

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themotherofblood · 11 months

Text

CHAPTER 3 | RIVER OF GOLD | The Journey | T.L x Reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 2

tw: mentions of rape and murder

~ the wedding was charming, if a little gauche ~

"My new home— it doesn't feel much of a home. It is foreign, I am foreign. I see it in the way the attendants glance at me, mayhaps my wild hair. A mythical creature trapped in a fine gown made of crimson velvet and gold. The beaches however are beautiful, sometimes I take off my boots and stand at the shore; salt water cools my feet and just for a moment. I don't miss home."

The journey had been swift, the preparations made through the evening with rows of wheelhouses and bannermen on horses, a joy parade to have Tywin lead his young wife to his ancestral seat. Ravens were sent hours before the blazing afternoon sun, to have your chambers thoroughly prepared and unpacked with your belongings. It appears Lady Genna Lannister had taken personal initiative to gather a toehold of handmaidens and a personal secretary for your coffers.

Your sisters had been tearful, puffed-mouthed poppets clinging to your skits with their dolls in hand. Nyela had fixated a minute glare upon your husband as he conversed with his brother in the Great Hall. The household staff gathered to see off their darling lady and liege lord.

"You swore you would take us with you," Ellia whimpers, "we supposed to visit Uncle Doran."

"We were supposed to," you correct, taking a piece of her loose behind her ear "I'm sorry darling." You engulfed her, the scent of lily soap so strong, it felt like engulfing your mother.

Nyela still clung to your back, small eyes—hooded and glaring at Tywin. When he turned to look at you, an amused frown settled upon his forehead as he looked to your hip.

"You're our sister, you stay with us." She grumbles, if her tiny ineffective fists could do anything, she wished she could drag you to your chambers and lock you in.

"I will write to Doran and Oberyn, they will come get you. Alright?" You crouched to meet their eyes, holding on one shoulder each.

Ellia, still pouting, buried her head in your shoulder, nuzzling the motherly warmth she often tried to find in your arms. Your brother walked over, having taken your brother from his nursemaid's arms and walked over to you. The boy, barely over two summers, had not a clue of why his siblings lamented for you. A stranger yesterday and now a stranger today, you held his little fist. Tracing over his face, the feathery touch of your fingers tickling at his skin making him giggle.

"I'd be a stranger to you the next we meet," you cooed as his tiny fist curled around your finger, babbling away at your hair sat by your chest. "You be good."

Your brother Olvyar turned to you next, a brotherly smile curling in his lips and eyes covered in guilt. You knew he felt terrible for stopping you from running, but in truth he was saving you from the cruel wrath of your father's pride—you were not his pride, even with his flesh and blood, you never would be. The one hard bone your father swallowed, even though Olvyar was his brother's seed sired by your mother. He was a son, a young man knighted and proud.

Olvyar for the longest time wanted nothing to do with your father's estate nor Westerlands politics, if he could. He too would have abandoned your father for adventure at sea with Oberyn, however seeing as though the only mere morsel of affection within Loren Maerilys was for him, you'd told him. Standing on your toes and pinching your older brother's teen puffy cheeks.

"You take care of us, you would be the lord of Deep Den." You hissed at him, hoping your brother would see reason beyond his boyish dreams

When you looked into his eyes, your own was looking back at you, just far more grief-stricken as yours were glossy. You opened your mouth, your form of a farewell was to be another lecture to your elder brother. He however chased your word back into your mouth as he opened his.

"I will look after them, and write to you at every turn of the moon." He reiterates, tilting his head just so as he looks down at you. "I will take care of them, I will be the Lord of Deep Den."

You held his arm, sternly nodding at him before pulling him to a half embrace. Squeezing his larger body so tight he had to set little Loren down to reciprocate.

"Don't let them be afraid, Olvyar. Don't let them be alone." You whispered, closing your eyes tight to fight away the tears threatening to fall.

"Never."

"My lady... it is time," Tywin called, standing with his hands clasped in front of him with a coaxing quirk to his brow and a forever stern disposition.

You bowed your head, to use your brother's chest as a shield as you wiped the salted drops away from your lash line before straightening yourself.

Dressed in a comfortable gown, devoid of fastened corsets or itchy gold hems to travel with ease through the eight hours of journey to Clegane Keep and then after a respite another four hours to Casterly Rock—your new home.

You offered not one look to your father as you walked out of the Great Hall holding onto both your sister's hands on either end. Your brother following behind as you were ushered to your carriage, you gave Deep Den one more glance; a superstitious tendency as you called to Mother Rhoyne for protection before taking the footmen's hand as he helped you into the sizable carriage. Reined in by eight horses, the wheelhouse was rather extravagant for such a short journey.

You settled in for a moment, sighing and resting your head against the plush velvet padded walls inside the carriage, your new home— you were married.

Perhaps even your bedding had made it so anxiously apparent on your skin that you no longer belonged to yourself, but to the crimsons and golds of house Lannister, to Tywin—

He had been rather aloof to your presence since the bedding last night, having made you feel so warm, an exasperating pinnacle and making you squeak at the strum of his fingers. Your cheeks burned hot even as you felt the gentle cramp within your claimed environs. Then this— your handmaiden Odiele found an odd form of compliment when Tywin's cupbearer had approached your lady's maids to inquire of your health.

You took that wholeheartedly as you had prepared yourself to break your fast, and then the waft of cold hit you. Not a word, not a word to you beyond formalities, it is at that moment your mind gave way to further past your bedding and to the ceremony feast. Your Daima Eldrã had told you, men often melt when their frigid minds crawl to their pillar. It was a deal, that was your marriage. You looked to your belly, wondering if a blonde child had already made a home there, waiting to spread within you and have you waddling about all fat and sweaty.

You were sure your mind had raced even harder than the dozen horses shifting in your riding party outside, however, the very man that clung to the crevices of your head peaked through the door of the wheelhouse. Pulling himself in and sitting opposite you, he glanced at you for a mere moment, the glint of questioning in your eyes that called to him. You thought he would ride with his brother.

"You seem displeased?" Tywin raised his brow, appearing defensive, perhaps irked by your reaction.

"No- I thought you were to ride with Lord Kevan, my lord," you muttered, still finding it hard to meet the steel green of his eyes, the frown perpetually etched onto his forehead often left you dislodged for your firm disposition. He did scare you, you would never let him have the satisfaction of knowing so.

"If that is what you wish, my lady." Tywin shuffled to the edge of his seat. His discontent was apparent, you had displeased him. He is your husband, he is trying, and you are trying.

"No- I, stay..." you stutter holding onto his arm "Please." You blurt out meekly.

He grunts for an answer, turning to the stained window as you shuffle closer to it, waving at your sisters clinging to Olvyar's side as the horses neigh, and the procession moves. The first carriages trot away from the moat bridge, and then your carriage moves. That unsettling dread fills your chest again, regressing you to a child of seven summers being sent as a ward to Dorne to your uncles. You gave up the olive greens of your house to the mustards of Martells and now you gave those up for the crimsons of house Lannister. Shedding skin after skin, no home would truly be yours, first the burden of your father then the responsibility of your uncles and now a child bearer for your husband.

Tywin should have travelled with Kevan, irked at his brother's attempts to find leisure in this match. Kevan had physically hauled his elder brother away from their carriage to yours. So here he sat, within the first hour of the ride. The carriage shielded both bodies from the chilled air outside but made the inside unbearably stifling with tension, you would meet his eyes, freeze and curl your lips to a tight smile before uncomfortably looking away.

A young thing so fierce he had thought, you cowered from within, a small sense of satisfaction within Tywin. Maybe you wouldn't try and strangle him to death at night, or stab him as he coupled with you. A Martell after all, a tinge of distrust was highly warranted of the Old Lion. What worried him even more was taking you to Clegane's Keep. A true test of your loyalty— what loyalty? It had only been two days since your wedding— he could picture a torn sneer over your face. Being made to present your dainty hand to the man who had raped and murdered your dear aunt and Targaryen cousins.

He watched as the rocking of the carriage lulled you to soft slumber, head resting against the cushioned wall. Hugging yourself with your neck cranked to find comfort, pouted mouth breathing puffs for lazed breaths. The terrain of the Gold Road was smooth with nary a bump, yet Tywin came to sit next to you. The uncomfortable crank in your neck ought to make it ache in the morning, your head finding itself on his shoulder as you slept, the thick cloak covering your body as you lift your legs next to you. Resting against your husband.

A tight jostle however startled you to consciousness, your adamant need to still remain ridden by sleep you peeked one eye open, taking a moment to gather your bearings, Tywin's hold on you tightened, making you aware that you were indeed resting against his body. An apologetic frown upon your brows as you made an attempt to shuffle to the other end, his hold remained firm.

"Sleep." He whispered, squeezing your shoulder.

You, by the Mother's grace, remained a bed for the remainder of the journey. A mellow call of your name is what broke you away from your clouded warm dreams of the sea.

The face of your handmaiden however above you as she sat with a cloak in her hands, you grumbled awake, rubbing your eyes with the back of your palm.

The tenuous tugs of sleep still had you curled to the cushioned seat, grumbling as Syaria pulled you up, accustomed to your demands for more sleep she shifts to hold you straight. You scowl at her mothering, hissing as you felt the bitter tug of the hairbrush she ran through your mussed hair to neatly put into a braid. She slipped the cloak over your shoulders, humming to herself as your body was finally in focus and properly awake.

"Lord Tywin?" You croaked, one last broken yawn breaking through you. Shrugging the gentle ache in your shoulders.

"Out with Lord Kevan." She mused, letting you a satisfied hum before shoving a branch of Meswak for you to chew on.

You had a faint memory of feeling warm, the heavy feel of arms upon you to find your husband's chin resting on your head as he lay awake. You shuffled out of the carriage, the other maids of your horde holding up a sheet of white cloth as you changed behind its security into more appropriate riding clothes. You sat on the foot of the carriage, shooing away the Westerlands maid as she bent down to lace your boots, you were perfectly capable of tying them yourself.

Once ready they pulled away the white curtain as you stood to your height, stretching your arms up in the air to yank at any odd knots within your skin, the carriage had swaddled you in for nearly seven hours from dusk to dawn. The Gold Road was painted orange with the peak of the morning sun, horses neighing away as people changed shifts, a moment of respite and preparations for your arrival at Clegane's Keep.

You walked back five paces, your lovely black mare Nysa sat with her hooves curled in, Eldrã lovingly feeding the sweet thing apples, spoiled girl—

"Might I interrupt for a ride?" You called, Eldrã turned to you smiling, she petted your cheek before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"You rest alright, dæriya?" she asked, concerned but toying at a far greater subject as she with ease switched to her mother tongue of Rhyone. He was with you last night. sweet girl

"Quiet well, daīa." you hummed holding onto Nysa's reins as you pulled yourself onto her.

Fredrick already stood at the ready. If you were to bolt away from the procession, you pointed your head to the edge towards the clearing where you were sure your husband sat with his brother breaking fast.

"Sleep well, Serret?" you asked a spurt of happiness within you, having the people closest to you accompanying you through this new journey.

"Well enough, my lady." He smiled baring his thirty-one perfect teeth, one happened to be chipped.

"Race with me?" you smiled sheepishly, pointing at the edge of the forest.

"I don't think racing at your station is appropriate now." He pressed, he wouldn't deny you. He never could, he never would.

"And if I were to order you, use my station. Would you do it?" A cheeky grin spread through your face, head tilted and mischief coating your features after a moon.

"Then I shall have no choice but to obey, my lady."

"Then we race!"

Nysa took off with the speed of storm winds, your braids whooshing against the wind as you tore through the forest line, the sun already risen, the orange fading and clear blue skies up above. It felt like an exotic delicacy willed into your environs as the fresh air bathed your skin away from the lingering tensions from the night before. You stopped, right at the edge of the forest line. Turning back to find Fredrick five paces behind before he too halted next to you.

You giggle, poking your pink tongue out at him before turning to bask in the scenery, you finally let your thoughts flow as you tarry.

"How am I expected to raise my palm to a man that raped and murdered my aunt," you muse, that sullen heaviness in your heart wet again weighing you down.

"Do you want me to kill him?" He blurted, a jape in all honesty but a blade pierces a man all the same.

You chuckle, shaking your head— a fine prospect, a violent one but one that Oberyn had fantasised over multiple times, Gregor Clegane's head resting at his foot. You wondered if you stared at his plate of food at lunch, you wondered if The Mountain might fear you of poisoning him. The entirety of your family sat shaking their heads on your shoulder.

You looked around, about a yard away sat your husband by a thoroughly filled table, a black tunic and vest of sable fur with his leg bent and resting over his other. Fine leather boots reaching up his knees, he was watching you from a distance. His arm shot in the air, finger bent to call you over to him.

You sighed, looking at Fredrick before turning Nysa as you trotted over, dreading the conversation you were soon to have.

"My lords." You bowed, barely meeting their eyes. Relishing the sudden warmth against your skin from the lit fire.

"My lady."

"Wife."

Lord Kevan rose from his seat, gesturing for you to replace yourself, he passed a knowing nod to his brother before leaving.

"Are you cold?" Tywin asked, inspecting the gloves on your fingers and the fur lining of your coat.

"The weather hasn't agreed with just yet I'm afraid," you agree, smiling at him "The Dornish climate is a lot more forgiving."

All you could do was rub your leather gloves palms together, speak to him, say anything dammit—

"I have employed a governess for you," Tywin began, setting his plate of food "all the way from Oldtown."

"What use would I have for a governess? Our children would have years before they needed one."

Tywin looked surprised for a moment like the mention of possible children tickled at his hoped.

"You were raised Dornish, it is for your own good."

You frowned, toying at the cusp of what he meant.

"What? Being devoid of good societal behaviours, do you think I am unladylike?"

Tywin's lips pressed into a hardline "You are expected to be the Lady of Casterly Rock, now I will not have mockery being made out of my lady wife and by extension me."

"And why do you suspect it is so? It is you who wanted a lady wife with more than half a brain, have your feet turned cold now my lord?" You appeared irked, pushing your weight against the chair you sat on, married for two days and your husband already believed you daft.

"Do you intend on letting Gregor greet you?"

Silence, an arrow right on the mark you stared at him through the lining of your scrunched eyebrows, that heaviness greeting itself once more.

"You will perform your duties, my lady, you wish not to be greeted. I will allow it. However, the matter of the governess is unchanged if you are to raise my sons."

"My lord, the Keep is ready for you." a foot soldier approached.

You sucked in a sharp breath, wishing you had a pendant vial of poison before stepping foot in that establishment. Tywin gave you a stern look once more before helping you into your horse.

The two of you rode to meet the procession, you very valiantly chose to ride in on Nysa, the niceties of lady ship so far behind your mind, and your husband shook his head as he rode in front of you.

The attendants of Clegane's Keep and the one monstrously large man stood amongst the crowd. People revered the blonde image of Tywin atop his white stallion. Their liege lord once in a moon had come to grace them.

Smile, you should smile but instead, your face seemed to have frozen itself to an unimpressed leer, eyeing Gregor with the malicious power of Mother Rhyone, drop dead— drop dead you sick bastard.

Footmens rushed to lay stools by the horse to make your unhorsing more graceful as you huffed off, patting Nysa as she gently neighed before walking to your husband.

The gruff voice of Gregor Clegane echoed, you were wishing a lance through his heart "Welcome to Clegane's Keep, my lord—" he bows his head before turning to you "My lady."

The anticipation burned up as Tywin watched you from his periphery, honour the fool that ruined your family, you lifted your hand and Tywin's chest deflated. A gloved hand turned and presented for the Mountain to bend and lay a kiss upon your palm. A gloved palm, you remained untouched.

"Clegane's Keep is yours."

Tywin turned to Kevan this time, his younger brother who appeared rather amused at your doings. He merely hoped that you would be introduced to Genna soon.

A gloved hand, a leather toy for a dog, deprives him of the honour of greeting you. You never said you'd let him.

Ahhhh first of all, I thank everyone for the support through this odd time of drama. I figured I’d best focus on my writing and thank everyone that reached out to me.

Secondly. I totally wanna make the reader poison Gregor Clegane, I’m just not sure if I wanna do it this early.

Taglist (thank youuuu💐)

@joker640 @wondergal2001

#tywin lannister x reader #tywin lannister smut #tywin lannister x oc #tywin imagine #tywin x reader #tywin lannister x you #tywinlannisterxyou #tywin lannister #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones smut #charles dance #gregor clegane #lord Tywin #kevan lannister #house lannister #house martell #lannisters

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runa-falls · 1 year

Text

cat and mouse - 3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Supervillain(?)!Reader

Warnings: mention of alcohol and being inebriated, Miguel in normal clothes (yes this is a warning), friends vs. lovers type beat

a/n: this one might be a little frustrating fyi. also it might be a while for the next part to come out bc i'm having trouble figure out where i want this story to go.

Summary: Every time you try to convince people it was an accident, you immediately get ratted out to the Spider. But really, it was! You don't know why you're being hunted, you didn't even do anything wrong. Yet.

w/c: 2.4k

part 1 part 2 part 4

masterlist

----

The villain's life isn’t too bad. Especially when you have friends. Well, a friend.

Really, it’s just like being unemployed, but you’re not living off of your life savings, you’re living off of someone else’s.

Maybe someone else’s else’s savings.

Ok fine, you’ll admit it. You haven’t actually done much crime at all. You’ve just been mooching off of Felicia like a girl with a sugar mama.

So what? It’s not your fault she’s the most generous criminal you’ve ever met. And technically, the money comes directly from other people’s accounts, so you are still acting as an accessory to a crime and that’s good enough for you.

So far, you’ve been treating these past few weeks like an extended vacation.

You’re still not used to your powers. It’s not as easy as thinking about something and it happens. It’s more like a feeling, something you have to pull from within. After the first few times of accidentally exploding someone’s Kia Soul and a breakfast sandwich that cost $12 (which is a crime in itself), you’ve been a little apprehensive about using your powers unless you really need them.

Thankfully, you have Felicia to teach you a few non-power-related moves just in case. You actually thought you’d never see her again after she left you on that roof. Even though she did say, “I’ll see you later,” you thought she was just being polite. But then you got a text for brunch a few days later.

Feli is not a villain, but she’s certainly not a hero either. She kinda just does what she wants when she feels like it. It’s inspiring, really.

You never told her about what happened that other night, not wanting to mention how Spider-Man mistook you for her. Or the fact that your shared a heated kiss with the hero. You’re supposed to be a bad-ass criminal, not some girl who fraternizes with superheroes like some sort of groupie. You do, however, tell her about how full-black suits aren’t your style and that you’re thinking about finally embracing your fiery locks.

She agrees adding, “We can’t show up in the same fit every time we’re committing a crime. We need to keep it fresh, give ‘em something to talk about.”

You were ready to go down to a fabric shop and stitch something quick together, but Feli adamantly convinced you that she would take care of it. Feli has this awesome AI assistant named Zee that does everything from ordering groceries to building her a new ultra-sleek motorcycle. You were told to tell Zee what you were looking for in your new suit since she’s also conveniently connected to an advanced fabricator.

“Hello, Ms. Hardy and Ms. Blaze.” You grumble at the AI’s use of your long-hated nickname, “How can I be of service?”

“Make her a new suit,” Feli commanded, “and make it quick, we have things to do today.” She sits at a desk, clicking idly through her large desktop. You peek over her shoulder, curious about what she’s working on. It’s a Pinterest board full of outfits and modern interior design ideas.

“Certainly. What are you looking for?” A holographic menu streams from the fabricating machine, showing you options for the size, fit, and design of the suit.

“Orange, maybe? And make it a little more breathable, I was sweating bullets in that other one.”

The menu scrolls around as you speak, showing you favorable color combinations and breathable fabrics and designs.

You tap on a fiery orange and black palette. It’s simple and makes sense. A few designs with your chosen colors pop up and you see the perfect one. It’s asymmetrical, leaving enough skin uncovered to ensure there’s a fair amount of ventilation for your extra-warm radioactive body heat. You click the ‘process’ button, and the machine starts right away. Estimated Time: 14 hrs and 27 minutes.

Feli stands up when she hears the rev of the machine working its magic. “Alright, darling, let’s get you up to my closet. We’re going to the club.”

—

Apparently, one of Feli’s associates owns the club we’re going to.

“He’s been asking about you, hearing about the power plant and all.” The limo he sent to her house is exquisite, offering expensive champagne and snacks. The windows are super tinted for privacy and the partition has been rolled up since you got in, so you can’t really tell where you’re headed. “I told him I’d bring you around the club sometime. That is if he lets us have some fun afterward.”

The club itself is quite packed. The building throbs with the heavy bass of electronic music that you can hear even through the heavy metal doors. There’s already a line that wraps around the block and it’s only 8 pm.

You carefully step out of the limo after Feli, trying not to trip in your borrowed heels. The bouncer instantly recognizes her and lets you pass, velvet rope pulled aside.

The sea of dancing bodies moves like a stop-motion film under the strobing lights as you walk right past the general area. You pass through a curtained entrance, walk up some stairs, and stop in front of the balcony area that overlooks the dance floor. VIP only, it says.

In the middle of the sitting area is a large bald man dressed in a proper suit, making him look like a frightening businessman. A large smile appears on his pale face when he spots your friend and he stands up to greet the two of you.

You can barely hear his voice over the loud music. “Felicia Hardy, wonderful to see you.” She offers her hand which he politely pecks.

She merely acknowledges him, “Fisk.”

He turns to you. “And you must be the famous, Blaze.” You don’t offer a hand and he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Please, call me Wilson.”

You don’t spend too much time with him, both because he seemed pretty busy and Feli wanted to go downstairs as soon as possible. He asks you normal things like where you’re from and how you met Feli, but he was mostly curious about your powers and how you got them.

“A vat, hm? I’ve heard that one before.” It’s true. Vats of shit almost ensure the creation of new villains. “S’a miracle you didn’t die from that.”

—

Feli is a lot more talkative once you leave Fisk. Despite working for him, she doesn’t seem all that fond of him. “He’ll probably call you up if he ever needs your skillset. I’d recommend taking whatever job he offers, he usually compensates generously.”

“But how? I didn’t give him my number.”

“Doesn’t matter. He’ll be in touch.”

She tells you to find a table while she gets some drinks. Apparently, the bar is open for her, another perk of working with Fisk. You feel like a wallflower as you wait for her, watching as people come and go to the dancefloor or bar. You sit at the high-top table, legs swinging idly to the beat of the music.

You’re almost shoved off your seat when someone bumps into you and you have to hold onto the table to keep your balance. “Oh, sorry,” You hear a familiar voice say over the pounding music.

“It’s ok.”

“Lava Girl,” You look over at the man, head having to tilt up to see his face. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” You barely recognize him as you’ve never seen him out of the suit before. He’s wearing a tight black short-sleeve that stretches nicely over his broad chest and dark wash jeans. Looking like any other civilian.

“Miguel!” His eyes wander over the short black dress you were borrowing from Felicia, briefly stopping over the length of your bare legs that are visible through the glass table.

“Always seem to be wearing something new when I see you.”

“Well, my friend has expensive taste.”

His brows furrow, “Friend? You’re here with someone?”

“Mhm.” Your eye catches on a head of silver hair, wandering through the crowds of loud and rowdy people. “Oh, just a sec. There she is.” You stand up to catch her attention and miraculously she spots you, flashing a smile as you wave your arms around like a lunatic.

Then she sees him and her soft smile stops. One of her perfectly tailored eyebrows raises as she joins the two of you, drinks in hand. “You.”

He seems surprised to see her. “Fel…” There’s a long bout of silence between the three of you. Whatever light energy was there quickly grows tense and you start to feel uncomfortable.

What’s with these two?

You try to salvage whatever you can from this weird conversation. “So, how do you guys know each other?” Felicia’s gaze releases its hold on Miguel and they both look at you, almost like forgot you were even there.

Miguel starts. “Uh, we’re old friends.” She gives him a look that you can’t decipher. “Older enemies.”

Then she writes it out, “Ex’s.”

You can tell he’s trying to hide a wince, but he’s not very good at it. So he was looking for her that night. Does that mean he would’ve kissed her instead of you then? Wait, that also means you kissed your best friend's ex! Shit.

“Oh.” You pick up a coaster just to have something to do with your hands. “Well, that’s cool– I mean it’s not cool, but– like, oh, so that’s how you know each other. Wow, what a small–”

“Why are you here Mig?” Suspicion drips off each word as she steps forward, almost like she’s trying to protect you.

“You’re asking why I’m at a club owned by one of the notorious crime lords in Nueva York?”

And all of a sudden you’re not there again. It’s just them.

“No, I’m asking why you’re here. With her.”

“Can’t a guy just say hi to a friend?”

It dawns on her. “She knows?” She says through gritted teeth.

He run a hand through his dark brown waves, “Look, it just happened.”

“Miguel, leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything.” You feel like you’re a kid watching her parents bicker about things unknown to you. You nervously fiddle with the hem of your skirt.

“She’s a good girl.”

“It’s not like that, Fel.” She rolls her emerald green eyes.

“Sure, it isn’t. I know you, Miguel.”

He scoffs, “Yeah, whatever.” He brushes her off, clearly done with the conversation. “Ok, well, I’d love to stay longer, but I did actually come here for a reason.” He pulls away from the table, “It was nice seeing you, Blaze.” You could tell that he means it just by the way he looks at you.

You nod at him, not really up to say much of anything after tonight. You can tell you’re dismissive send-off stings, but you don’t really care.

“Hardy.” She doesn’t even look at him and he walks away without another word.

“Ugh, that guy.” Feli takes a deep sip of her vodka cran and you watch as a napkin sticks to the sweating glass as she tilts it back. She pushes yours closer to you, letting the perspiration drag against the glass table.

At this point, you’re not really feeling the whole club scene anymore.

“Promise you’ll stay away from him.” Your eyes lift from your untouched glass to meet her stare. “I know he’s Nueva York’s sweetheart Spider-Man or whatever, but he’s bad news, trust me.”

“Ok.”

“You really don’t wanna get caught up in the superhero drama. I’m just, trying to look out for you, Blaze.”

You nod, forcing yourself to smile. “I know.”

And you do. She probably has a good reason for it, but it doesn’t make you feel any better.

All the events of the evening sit in the air for a second. Felicia, Fisk, and Miguel. Your brain is having a hard time organizing everything and the noises around you aren’t helping.

You decidedly pick up your glass without thinking and quickly drain it, barely even tasting it before feeling its cool contents bloom throughout your body. You set it down a bit harsher than you intended, but the coaster does a good job of absorbing the sound.

You hop off your seat. “Let’s dance.”

Feli is surprised by your sudden changed mood, “Oh, right now?” You need to let loose. You can’t let some stupid kiss ruin your new life. You can’t let anything distract you. You can’t let him distract you. As of now, you’re a new woman and you’re ready to embrace exactly who everyone thinks you are.

You offer your hand, “Right now.” She takes it, letting you lead her straight to the middle of the dancefloor.

—

This time you run before you even see him. Well ‘run’ may be an exaggeration. You were too drunk to even walk in a straight line so let’s just say you ‘left.’

So the night went off the rails a little bit. One fruity mixed drink turned into a few rounds of shots, which turned into a very ambitious plan to revisit that bank that shut down on you a few weeks ago. Since it hasn’t been hit since that night, you assumed everything would’ve simmered down around it. Less security, less fuss, and less Spider-Man. And you were right.

You were also careless.

Drunk girls and endless power create an interesting scene for the police to discover. First, you skipped the doors altogether. Why use the front entrance, when you can walk straight into the vault? By the time the cops would get there, they’d be greeted by a huge hole that rips through several layers of (theoretically) indestructible materials.

Then there are the two blood-red lipstick kisses right next to it. That was Feli’s idea.

“Oh my god, you know what would be so cute? If we signed off on this with little kisses!”

“Why would we do that?” Your words slur slightly as you step into the vault. It’s stacked high with bills placed in perfectly rectangular towers. A soft breeze could easily ruin the whole room.

“A girl’s gotta leave her mark.”

“Mm…ok, why not.”

You stuff your small handbags to the brim, not worried when a few bills fall out. This job isn’t really about the money, it’s about sending a message.

You both casually stagger away from the crime scene, catch a cab (paying with handfuls of cash because you can’t be bothered to count it out), and get back to her place.

“You staying over?”

“Can I?”

“Of course, darling.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #cat and mouse

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roley-poley-foley · 5 months

Text

been feeling peckish for vampires lately, so here's this

contains vampires, blood drinking, severe sunburn, sex work

Jolly could smell burning flesh. Not simply human flesh on a funeral pyre, but the acrid stench the sun made as it tore into vampire skin. Not an unusual scent to get the occasional whiff of, sometimes clothes weren't as protective as one hoped, but it filled the air and Jolly's nose, dredging up unpleasant memories of the old vampire hunts.

A few of the humans around Jolly waved at the air around them, noses wrinkling. You knew things were bad if even humans could smell it.

Moving with the flow of pavement traffic, Jolly followed the smell. He quickly came to an alley, the sun at his back as he headed down it, towards a lone dumpster. Someone whimpered. The burning smell grew stronger. Jolly peered around the dumpster and, gripping the handle of his parasol tightly, immediately recognised the human he'd met weeks ago.

Jolly's mechanic had a new apprentice, a tall young man with flopping dark hair, round cheeks and a broad, crooked grin. Jolly liked to know the people whose services he paid for by name and Noah had been surprised but polite in introducing himself, assuring Jolly that Kath would still be doing most of his car's service and he'd be lucky if he got to do more than watch, hand her tools and change the oil. He'd seemed satisfied with that lot, eager to learn from a skilled mechanic.

Staring at the wretch huddled in the shadow of a dumpster, Jolly wondered what had happened to that man. The young vampire's eyes were focused on the backs of his trembling, blistered hands, perhaps in too much pain to have noticed Jolly. He wore only a singlet, shorts and shoes, wholly inadequate protection from the spring sun burning behind Jolly; he hadn't known he'd need more than that.

Nobody had told him.

Jolly did his best to push down the rage that wanted to overwhelm him. To abandon a vampire you just sired was deeply irresponsible. If they didn't figure it out and go on a killing spree, they would just get sick. Sick from thirst, sick from hunger when they lost the ability to digest their food, sick from sleep deprivation and fevers and nausea and...

Sobbing, Noah curled into a tight ball.

Jolly crouched in front of him. "Noah?"

Noah didn't seem to hear him.

Delicately, Jolly touched an unburned patch of skin on his arm. "Noah."

Flinching, Noah hit his head against the dumpster.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm gonna help you," Jolly assured him, though he wasn't sure Noah was aware of his words.

Jolly pulled out his phone and called Nick.

"I need a lift," he told him, quickly explaining the situation.

Nick grumbled a little, having been woken ridiculously early in the afternoon, but told Jolly he was on his way.

Next, he texted a few blood donors to see if anyone was available tonight.

Noah had stopped crying and was instead staring listlessly.

"Noah?"

He drunkenly lifted his head to look at Jolly and blinked slowly.

"I'm gonna get you somewhere safe, okay? You're gonna be alright."

Jolly's text tone chimed.

Audrey had responded to ask Jolly when he'd like a visit.

He briefly summarised, telling her to get to his place in about an hour if she was alright with working with freshly-turned vampires and promising that not only was Noah too weak to be a danger to a kitten, Jolly would make absolutely sure that she would be safe.

"I'm getting you food," he told Noah as he waited for her reply, "Real food, that you can actually keep down. I bet you haven't been able to eat lately, huh?"

He didn't look like a mechanic's apprentice anymore.

Nick showed up with his own parasol in one hand and a blanket in the other. "Shit," he commented, peering over his sunglasses at Noah, "Who did this?"

"They better watch their back," Jolly said darkly, "They can't hide from me."

He helped Nick get the blanket around Noah's shoulders to protect him from the sun and together they helped him to his feet and walked him to Nick's car. Given how pliant and incapable he was, Jolly was impressed that Noah had apparently dressed himself and left the house this morning. Maybe the sun had pushed him over the edge, from seriously ill to delirious.

They got a few stares as they took their quarry up to Jolly's apartment.

"We probably look like the world's worst kidnappers right now," Nick commented when they reached Jolly's door.

Jolly huffed a laugh at that. "Hold on, let me get my keys."

Figuring that it would make feeding him easiest, they covered the couch in the living room with a blanket and deposited Noah there.

"Home, sweet home," Nick declared, rubbing his hands as if to clean them, "Need anything else?"

"Not right now, you can get back to sleep," Jolly told him, turning the AC down, "But if you can poke around for me..."

Nick nodded, looking at Noah. "Whoever did this is getting their ass kicked."

He showed himself out as Jolly headed to the bathroom for supplies. Although he knew to be careful and wear sun protection, he kept a few things on hand just in case he got caught out and couldn't feed.

Noah looked a little better when he returned, blinking at the room around him with a furrowed brow.

"Water?" Jolly offered, holding up the glass he'd brought.

Noah opened his mouth to speak, only to start coughing weakly.

Sitting beside him, Jolly waited for the fit to pass before holding the glass to his lips.

Noah lifted his hands to take the glass, but Jolly could feel that he wasn't strong enough to hold it on his own. He instead let Noah guide him to tilt the glass enough to drink.

"I brought ibuprofen. For the pain." He helped Noah take some, giving him more water to swallow it down, then set about rubbing lotion on Noah's burns.

Although Jolly could quickly recover from just about anything with a good feed, young vampires were a different story. Freshly-turned vampires were especially weak, aside from being completely uncharted territory for Jolly. He'd never cared for one before and had himself been turned in a very different world, kept isolated until he was strong enough to protect himself. He hoped that Audrey's blood would help him heal, even this soon after being turned.

Speaking of Audrey...

"I'll be right back," Jolly told Noah as he got up to answer the knock at his door.

"Early call," Audrey greeted.

"Sorry, it's urgent." He stood back to let her in.

"You said you just found him? Alone?"

He shrugged, leading her to the lounge room. "Yep. Newly-turned and abandoned. I met him as a human not long ago."

"Does that happen a lot?"

"Never." He stopped her before they went in, lowering his voice. "Once he's had a feed, do you think you can get him talking? I wanna find out who turned him."

Audrey nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

Noah stared as they came in.

"Noah, this is Audrey," Jolly introduced, taking a seat beside him, "She's a blood donor."

He blinked at Audrey as she sat on his other side.

"Heard you've had a rough day," she said gently, stroking his cheek with a light touch as she draped her other arm over the back of the couch so Jolly could reach it, "Jolly's gonna kiss it better, okay? You just need to open your mouth for him."

Jolly sank his fangs into her arm, blood filling his mouth easily. Noah's own fangs wouldn't develop for a long time yet, leaving him to tear into flesh with rough human teeth. As Jolly's fangs retracted from Audrey's arm, her skin closed back up behind them; he didn't even leave a mark when he fed.

Taking Noah's chin, Jolly turned his head to face him.

"Open your mouth for him, Noah," Audrey prompted.

He looked bewildered, lips parted enough that Jolly could lean in to seal their mouths together, pushing Audrey's blood and his saliva to him. Noah tried to lean back, but Jolly gripped the back of his head, keeping him in place.

Noah didn't put up much of a fight; he froze for a moment, swallowed, then readily drank the remaining blood from Jolly's mouth.

"Good boy," Audrey soothed, kissing the corner of Noah's mouth when he and Jolly parted.

Jolly quickly filled his mouth from her arm again, relieved that Noah was drinking.

"Come on, he's got more for you, look."

Again, Noah needed some guidance to find Jolly's lips, but he eagerly drank once he found them, even licking into his mouth for more. He was too weak to stop Jolly from pulling away, but followed his lips to Audrey's arm closely, as if he was worried he'd lose them.

Although Audrey kept talking to him, telling him he was a good boy and stroking his hair, he lost all interest in her, completely focused on Jolly and the blood he offered. This starved, he must have been running solely on instinct. Jolly didn't even think that he knew that there were sources of blood other than Jolly's mouth.

Which suited Jolly perfectly. He didn't want Noah biting Audrey, but even if he did, his body wasn't developed enough to process blood on its own. He needed Jolly's saliva to help it saturate his body properly, he'd probably have to drain a body to get what Jolly could give him in a couple of mouthfuls.

Of course, Jolly wasn't stopping at a couple. He kept feeding Noah until Audrey's bracelet beeped in warning.

"That's me," Audrey said, looking at it to see her levels, "Thirsty one, huh?"

"I wasn't sure what to do if he was too sick to drink," Jolly replied, "Thank god."

"Think you'll call in someone else?"

"Nah."

Noah looked ready to drink his weight in blood, but Jolly didn't want to overfeed him.

"You need to sleep," Jolly told him firmly, "Give it time to soak in."

He rasped a protest, coughing again.

Audrey rubbed his back, frowning. "You're okay, Jolly's gonna take care of you." She looked at Jolly. "You looking for anything else tonight?"

"I'm good." He stood, heading to the kitchen for the stash of money he kept for home visits. He counted out a few bills and returned, handing them to Audrey. "I'm calling it a full service."

She counted the bills with a frown. "Sure I can't get you off before I go?"

He looked at Noah. He was more relaxed now, head on Audrey's shoulder as he slowly blinked at Jolly.

"I'd feel bad," Audrey told him with a pout, "You did all this work, let me give you a little something."

"Well, when you put it like that..." Jolly smiled, shaking his head. He turned to Noah. "Stay here and get some sleep, okay?"

They settled Noah on the couch and he began to doze off quickly.

"I hope I'll see you again," Audrey told him, ruffling his hair before following Jolly to his bedroom.

Although Jolly didn't get to drink from her this time, he couldn't say that Audrey had nothing else to offer. He'd been seeing her for a few years now and she knew him well, had a way of flipping a switch and becoming the perfect lay for him, calling him sir, pleading, touching him just right. Even a little low on blood, she gave him nothing to complain about and left only his slight thirst unsatisfied, though he at least still had the taste of her blood on his tongue.

They crept into the lounge room, finding Noah sound asleep on the couch. Already, his blisters looked much better.

"New vampire," Audrey whispered when they reached the entryway, "That just hit me."

"Mm. Guess I'll have to introduce him to everyone."

An unpleasant prospect. Jolly wasn't a big participant in larger vampire society, preferring to keep to the small group of trusted friends he'd surrounded himself with. Noah's sire should have had the responsibility of inducting him into their world, but unless they suddenly showed up and said they were very sorry, it probably fell to Jolly.

It was fine, he reasoned. How hard could bringing up a new vampire be?

#cyblurb #bad omens #bad omens fic

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