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andvys · 9 months

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | S.H.

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, sad ending, allusions to cheating, heartbreak, break up, King!Steve, popular!reader, poorly proofread

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader | Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve is slipping through your fingers and you desperately hold onto him not realizing that his heart isn't yours anymore.

Word count: 2k

Note: This is only the preview, I wanted to see how this will do before I write the actual story! @take-everything-you-can thank you for listening to my ideas and helping with more!

The red wine is seeping through his shirt, staining his soft skin with it’s stickiness. He clumsily tries to wipe it off with a random cloth he found in Tina's bathroom, as though it would help, as though he could undo it, as though the redness hasn’t already stained too much of the blue material.

He is mumbling incoherent words under his breath.

You roll your eyes, reaching for the cloth in his hands, “it’s not coming off, Steve–”

“It’s coming,” he mumbles, drunkenly.

You sigh, walking around him, you put the cloth on the counter and reach out to him, cupping his cheeks, “come on, just let me take you home.”

“Why don’t you go home?”

He looks down at you with a look in his eyes that you aren’t familiar with. He furrows his brows as he looks into your eyes, searching for something that he won’t find in your eyes, ever.

You are scared of it, you are scared of him, of what he feels, of what changed. You act like you don’t know what changed, you act like you are clueless, you act like you are unaware of everything that’s been going on behind your back. But you know everything.

You know that Steve isn’t who you want him to be.

He is King Steve and you are the queen of Hawkins High– you didn’t give that title to yourself, you never would, in a way it’s humiliating to you that people claim you to be some sort of queen, some mere girl that people look up to for some reason. You are nothing but a simple girl and Steve is nothing but a simple guy but unlike you, he loves the attention, especially the one he gets from all the girls, the ones that make him feel desired. You always hated the way he flirted with them even when he was already with you– he said he only did it because of Tommy and the other guys from the team, they always encouraged him to flirt with them. You didn't understand it, you would never do that to him. His flirtations were only halfhearted and he never actually did anything but it did nothing to make you feel better. Still, you stayed with him because you loved him and because you knew that he only did it for show, to keep up his stupid reputation.

After all he did only have eyes for you. Only you were allowed to see sides of him that no one else saw, only you got lingering looks, soft touches and kisses, only you got to lay in his arms and listen to the beat of his heart, only you were his girl, his only girl. Only you got all the I love you's.

He took you out on dates, he gave you flowers, he kissed you in his car, in downtown bars, behind the school, in his room, in your room. He made you happy like no one else did. He once did.

You were his first love, you had hoped that you would be his only love but then she came along and his love for you was just gone.

When he suddenly stopped flirting with every girl that batted her lashes at him, you had hoped that he finally stopped caring about what his friends thought, you had hoped that he was finally ready to show everyone that he wasn’t like that, that he wasn’t some playboy who needed more than his girlfriend to keep him interested and satisfied but that was simply too much to wish for. You were a fool for considering that in the first place.

His eyes strayed away from you weeks ago, he had set his eyes on her, the girl that stole him and his heart away from you like it was nothing.

Nancy Wheeler.

The pretty freshman who was assigned to be his partner in some stupid history project.

You knew that he was gone the moment he stopped calling you every night just to hear your voice before going to bed, you knew that his love had started to vanish when even after the project was over, he kept canceling or even forgetting date nights, you knew that his heart wasn’t yours anymore when you caught him staring at her with a look in his eyes that you wished to see when he looked at you.

He isn’t yours anymore but you still hold onto him because he is still here, right in front of you and he puts his hand around your wrists, not hers. He looks into your eyes, not hers. But he doesn’t look at you with love or adoration in his eyes, no. He looks at you with something– with nothing. There is nothing in his eyes and you can already feel yourself growing sick because you know that this is it. You knew this was coming, you knew this would happen eventually, he will leave you, for her.

You don’t know what happened between them, if anything happened at all, you don’t know if he crossed that line yet, he did emotionally but did he physically?

Your heart begins to pound in your chest, the sound of the music outside is too loud, even when you are stuck in this bathroom with your very drunk boyfriend who is about to shatter your heart into tiny little pieces, you still hear the music and it’s hurting your ears. Your throat tightens and your vision blurs. You feel like you are suffocating.

“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice, it’s so shaky and so far away.

Steve frowns, he shakes his head a little as he keeps looking at you. His eyes flicker down to your cheeks, to your nose that he used to kiss every time he would say goodbye, your lips that are trembling from the fear that is running through your body, he holds your wrists tighter as he looks back into your tear filled eyes.

What is he doing?

You step closer to him, blinking those tears away, you whisper his name, begging and pleading with your eyes. You love him. God, you love him so much.

He says your name. Not baby, not honey, not babe, not princess. He says your name.

“L-Let’s go home, okay?” You mumble shakily, tearing your eyes away from his, “let’s just go home together.”

"Together?" He slurs as he stumbles forward a little, you steady him by grabbing his waist.

“Yeah, you wanted to stay with me, remember?”

“I-I don’t wanna stay with you, I don’t wanna be with– with you,” he mumbles, closing his eyes, he sighs. You smell the alcohol in his breath, the wine on his shirt and it makes you feel nauseous. He grabs your shoulders and suddenly his touch is too much, knowing that it’ll be the last time he touches you.

“W-What do you mean?”

He is too drunk to see how scared you really are, how hurt you truly are. He is too much of a fool to see anything.

“You heard me,” he says as he gets closer to your face, “I don’t want to be with you,” he spits.

You draw back, furrowing your brows and holding your breath as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach, of course you weren’t prepared for this even though you saw it coming.

“Why not?”

He looks bad, his hair is messy from all the tugging all night, his eyes are red rimmed and he has dark circles beneath them, like he had been up all night, his eyes are filled with so many things yet none at all, right now, you don’t recognize him.

He is gripping your shoulders tightly, you wish it’s because he is afraid to let you go.

“I’m not in love with you anymore.”

And just like that, with a few simple words, he broke your heart.

Steve Harrington, the man you gave your heart to so willingly, despite your friends warning you about him, despite all the warning signs, you gave him your heart and you never regretted it even though you should have but he was your Steve. He was.

Steve awaits a reaction from you. He expects you to break down, to slap him, to push him away from you, to ask why but you don’t. In fact, you don’t give him a reaction at all, you just nod at his words, somehow managing to keep the tears from falling, your trembling lip tells him that you do want to cry though but you don’t.

The bile rises in your throat, you want to throw up, you want to fall to your knees and puke your guts and your heart out but you swallow harshly and close your eyes for a moment, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from sobbing.

Please wake up, please wake up. You think to yourself, let this be a dream, just a bad dream. You want to wake up, in his arms, in his embrace, you want to feel his kisses on your shoulder, his fingers running through your hair, to hear his morning voice, to hear him say I love you. But you will never get any of it again. It’s over.

“Okay,” you whisper, shakily.

You step away from him, pushing his hands off your shoulders, you nod to yourself as you open your eyes to look at him one last time, “okay.”

An unfamiliar feeling runs through him, gripping at his heart, it hurts and he suddenly feels nauseous. He blinks and stares at you as though he doesn’t understand what just happened.

You look into each other’s eyes, you both drown everything else out, the voices outside, the music and the ongoing party.

It’s over.

You feel grief, the way you felt it all this time already, knowing that this was coming.

He feels it too, though he doesn’t understand it yet. He doesn’t understand what a huge mistake he just made, how much he will despise himself for doing this to you, how much he will come to regret this. When he feels the loss of your touch, his heart begins to understand a little.

Deep down you know that he will come back to you, he will.

Unable to stand around him any longer, you step away, “I’ll get Tommy or something, he’ll drive you home–”

“What about you?” He asks as though he didn’t just tell you that he doesn’t want to be with you.

Your heart is hurting, it’s hurting so badly that you start to forget what it ever felt like to be loved by him. Your tears threaten to fall so you step around him and reach for the doorknob, “goodbye, Steve.”

He says your name but you don’t dare to turn around to face him, you keep the sob in, pushing it down as you open the door and step out of the room.

By the time the door slams shut, you are already crying, the tears are streaming down your face as you rush through the hallway and down the stairs, not caring about the looks of curiosity of the people around you, you don’t care about anything right now.

You stumble down the stairs, almost crashing on the hardwood floor if it wasn’t for your friend catching you before you can even take the fall.

“Hey, oh my god, are you okay?” She asks as she steadies you, watching you with concern in her blue eyes.

You shake your head as you look at her.

She looks around as though she is searching for someone but when her eyes settle on him standing by the stairs, not walking down just yet, she knows that it’s him who made you cry.

She rolls her eyes, putting her arm around you, she pulls you away from the stairs and out of the house, wrapping her cardigan around you after you both step out into the cold. The front door closes and despite the loud music, the laughter and all the people around him, Steve swears that he heard it shut, it echoed and it made him wince in pain.

He doesn’t understand the deep regret in his chest, the pain in his heart and the confusion in his soul.

He doesn’t understand it yet.

next part

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things angst

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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months

Note

Charlos request !!! Basically anything to do with Carlos not renewing with Ferrari

Maybe when the news came out or few moments of it coming up. I imagine Carlos being down about it before but then just being a little shit like the video with Charles where he’ll bring it up and make reader and Charles sad while just giggling himself

A/N: Okay I know you wanted fluff and you're going to get it, but first angst because Charles knowing this was happening before Carlos, *chef's kisses*

The plate slips out of your hands, when the sound of the door slamming vibrates everything in the household. Immediately, Charles is rushing out of his Sims room and looking at you with wide eyes. "Baby, what happened," You go to open your mouth but thundering feet pulls both your attention away from the glass around you.

"Is it true?" Carlos voice travels, you couldn't see him, but from the way that Charles's eyes grew you could only imagine what Carlos looked like now. Coming into view you want to step back, the anger was palpable, thick, and even made your throat tighten. You step back, but wince feeling the small shard of glass digging into the sole of your foot.

"Carlos,-" "Is it, fucking true?" Carlos gets right into Charles's face who doesn't back down, but you see the way his eyes are swimming with regret and heartbreak. "SPEAK! Goddammit you're Ferrari's golden boy, the chosen one, the Il Predestinato." Carlos roars, and your frozen.

You've seen the boys angry, but this was beyond anger, this was the form of wrath you've never seen. "Let's not do this now, Y/n dropped a plate and has glas-" "I don't give a fuck, answer me, goddamit, if you love me, even just a little bit, you'd tell me right now," Carlos's voice breaks off, his chest shaking, and throat bobbing like he's fighting to breath. "Carlos," Charles reaches out, Carlos stumbling back like he's been shot and closes his eyes.

Fists tighten, Charles braces himself, he honestly deserves it. "You knew and didn't tell me. You knew, and here I thought winning Singapore, the only non-Red Bull driver to win, would be enough. Why wasn't it enough?" Carlos chokes out, eyes shining with tears. "Why wasn't I good enough?" Charles doesn't answer, he doesn't know what to say.

"What's happening?" You ask, the boys eyes turn to you seeing your shocked and slightly scared expression. "Lewis is taking my seat next year, Charles knew. Since Canada." Your mouth slowly falls open as you stare at Charles with utter heartbreak. "Charles, what?" He drops his head in shame and looks away.

"I wanted to say something, but I couldn't." "Bullshit, you told Pierre." Charles physically flinches, giving away that he did in fact tell his best friend but not his partner. "You should've told me, and now I might not have a seat. The team now has to put out some bullshit excuse like I knew or something. You know what, 'm packing a packing a bag." Carlos scuffs and you move forward not caring about the glass.

Carlos is halfway up the stairs as you step and trip over yourself. "Carlos, no, ow, please don't." You cry. "Y/n," Charles moves and wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up and on a counter. "How could you Charles, does Ferrari really mean that much to you that you hide this from Carlos, from us?" Charles says nothing as Carlos jogs down the stairs.

"I'll be at Lando's for a while," You try to move but Charles stops you as the door slams closed.

------------------------------

Carlos and Charles were strained at best, you tried to get Carlos to come home, but he needed time to think things through and if Charles even really cared about Carlos. Sitting in the van on the way to the Bahrain track, you watch as the camera is turned on and they start filming the teammates.

You noticed Carlos was holding a little chili, with not a clue where he got it from he notices the camera blinking and chuckles. "Hey, I got something for you," Charles sighs and looks straight into the camera, "Tell me Carlos," Carlos chuckles and hands out the chili pepper. "I want to give this to you," Charles still looks dead into the camera, a tired expression on his face from the lack of sleep.

"From my fan, to me, for you." Carlos gets this slight smirk, and you watch the two hoping this was a symbolics an olive branch. "So you remember me for the rest of your life." Charles smiles gently and holds the chili pepper to his face. His eyes cut to you a small smile on his face. "A chiliiiiii." "For our post-teammate era." You hear Carlos start to laugh as Charles spins the chili around.

It took him a second to register what Carlos says and turns hurt in his eyes and looks ready to cry and even you move uncomfortably in your chair. "Come on, we're only starting the season." The two of them laugh but you can tell the hurt in both their laughs, "Getting emotional already?" Carlos teases, and you sigh knowing Carlos was teasing him.

What you hated was you couldn't tell if it was for the camera or because he was slowly forgiving Charles.

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tenjito · 9 months

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the tide is high, but i'm holding on. || miyawaki sakura

pairing: miyawaki sakura x female reader contents: exes to lovers, forced proximity technically, chaewon's so done, y/nkura are eunchae's divorced parents, swearing, jealousy, kissing description: you and sakura broke up right before iz*one officially disbanded. coincidentally, the both of you ended up debuting in the same group again.

it's moments like these where you start to question your entire existence as a whole, because who the fuck decided to put you and your ex-girlfriend in the same group?

okay, sure, no one actually knew that the two of you dated (aside from the other members of iz*one), so it makes sense that hybe didn't know the possible consequences of it all.

you and sakura broke up a week before your iz*one contracts ended. the two of you were having another argument—which had been happening quite frequently for the past few weeks—in the car while you drove to meet the rest of the members for dinner.

"sakura, i don't get why you're so pissed off at me! it's not my fault we barely get to spend time together!" you yelled, eyes on the road as you gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"well then, whose fault is it, y/n? it certainly isn't mine since i'm not the one who has on cancel on you everytime we make any plans together!" your girlfriend shouted from the passengers seat, running her fingers through her hair in fraustration.

"ugh sakura, let it go! i told you already, i've been busy." you stated, feeling like a broken record repeating yourself for the hundredth time. "besides, every time we are together, we just end up fighting like always!" you admitted, and maybe it was a harsh thing to say, but it was true.

but nothing could've prepared you for sakura's next words.

"maybe we should just break up then." her voice was low, almost like a whisper compared to the shouting and yelling from a few seconds ago, and her lip quivered ever so slightly as you stopped at a red light.

your heart sank. you couldn't have possibly heard her correctly... right? that question was soon answered as you turned to face the woman beside you, and the tears in her eyes only meant one thing.

you couldn't say anything. you didn't know what to say. you only stare in disbelief at sakura, who faced the window, avoiding any eye contact with you. before you could utter a response, a beep was heard from the car behind you and the light was green.

your hands were no longer firmly gripping the steering wheel. instead, they were shaking as you drove and you bit down on your lip to try focus your thoughts on the road rather than on sakura's previous words.

"pullover. i'm getting off." she suddenly spoke up.

"what? you can't just—"

"i can do whatever i want, y/n. you're not my girlfriend anymore." sakura's voice noticeably cracked while she said the last sentence, and a sharp, sickly sensation cut through your heart when you heard it.

you pulled over. she got out. no words. no goodbye. no see you later. no nothing. just the sound of the car door slamming and the empty silence that followed.

sad driving was dangerous, but just-broke-up-with-your-girlfriend sad was a lot worse. luckily enough, despite the crying throughout the whole drive, you made it to the restaurant without any accidents.

"where's sakura?" chaeyeon asked after you greeted the group, and your attempts of hiding your swollen eyes and dried up tears from your members earlier were useless, because you ended up crying to them about the whole situation.

in conclusion, that night was full of drinking, crying, comforting and more crying, but no matter how much alcohol you consumed, nothing would change the fact that sakura was gone.

seemingly enough, you learned to forget and move on from the heartbreak (or at least that's what you convinced yourself), and never spoke to sakura ever since that day.

that was until: le sserafim.

this new group was a blessing and a curse for the both of you, but mostly a curse.

it was undoubtedly awkward at the start, and there was evident tension between the two of you.

the rest of the members, apart from chaewon, were completely confused about this. all three of you were in the same group, so why was it that you and sakura seemed to hate each other? eunchae, who was probably the biggest iz*one fan there, was especially confused.

she remembered the two of you being inseparable during iz*one days. 'y/nkura' was probably the biggest ship among fans (she shipped it too), so what the hell happened?

kim chaewon knew the answer to that question since she was the only one who knew about your past relationship, and she also knew that two exes being in the same group as each other was indeed, a very bad idea. especially if it was you and sakura.

but being your leader and longtime friend, chaewon practically forced the both of you to at least try to get along.

turns out, it wasn't that bad.

"y/n, could you pass me a knife?" sakura asks, taking out a few vegetables from the fridge and laying them on the table. you perk up from your seat and switch off your phone.

"not even a 'please'?" you tease, walking over to the cutlery drawer and retrieving a knife. sakura rolls her eyes as you handed her the knife.

"please and thank you," she says before placing a carrot onto the chopping board.

you took this as an opportunity to steal a piece of meat that she'd been cooking from the sizzling pan. sakura was basically the chef of the house, always cooking for the other members. you'll never admit it, but her cooking was your absolute favourite.

"y/n!" sakura shouts, grabbing your arm before you could reach the food. she gives you a stern look and you let out a groan.

"but i'm hungryyy," you drag, dramatically pouting at the older. she lets go off your arm and smiles.

your heart flutters and your face heats up. i forgot how pretty her smile was...

"just wait, i'm almost done." sakura says, but you don't move. you just watch.

you watch the way strands of her hair fall past her face, and the way she gently tucks them back behind her ear afterwards. you watch her glued eyes that are so focused on what she's doing, and you find it adorable.

wait. no you don't. you can't. she's your ex, you idiot—

"i can feel you staring at me." sakura speaks, snapping you out of your trance.

your ears burn in embarrassment. "uh," quick, make up an excuse! "it's 'cause you're cutting it wrong, dummy. i'll show you how it's done."

you let out a breath before taking the knife from sakura and moving closer. the older just waits in anticipation, arms folded with a rather judging look.

despite the incredibly cocky expression on your face, you've never actually used a kitchen knife before, let alone cooked anything in your life. maybe this isn't the best idea, you think, and you hesitantly turn to face sakura.

"go on,"

the chastising tone in her voice irks you. just cut the damn carrot, y/n. and so you did. the knife is sharp and it goes through the carrot a lot smoother than you had initially expected.

"you're cutting it the same way. what's the difference?" sakura says wearily, and she's so close to your ear that you almost jump.

"sh-shut up, just wait!" you complain, more nervous about the fact that your ex was inches away from your face and sakura holds her hands up in defence.

"okay, okay..!"

you're a lot less confident now. you feel sakura's breaths on your nape as she's peering over your shoulder, and you don't what or how it happens, but the knife slips in your hands and you feel a sharp sting on your finger.

"shit—" you hiss, abruptly dropping the knife on the chopping board.

out of pure impulse, sakura instinctively takes a tissue from the kitchen table and grabs your hand, carefully wiping the blood off your finger. she opens the supply drawer next to you and takes out a small bandaid before wrapping it around the cut. you wince at the action, but sakura tells you to stay still and you do.

once the bandaid is on and sakura lets go off your hand, the both of you realize what the the actual fuck just happened. sakura's eyes leave yours first and she clears her throat.

"are you, uhm...are you okay?" she asks awkwardly, and you quietly nod.

neither of you even dare to face the other. it stays silent, the tension in the room threatening to crush you with its unbearable weight. the silence is thankfully broken by the sound of the door opening.

"unnie! is the food ready yet?" eunchae asks, walking into the room. sakura informs her just two more minutes and she's done. you go back to your seat, and you and sakura don't talk to each other for the rest of the day.

it's been a week since the incident, and you and your ex have been ignoring each other as much as possible. the only times you would interact was when you were forced to during practices or livestreams. of course, the first person to notice the avoidance is your leader, and she was very annoyed to say the least.

"i thought you two promised you were going to get along? you were fine last week, what happened?" chaewon is sat across from you and sakura, looking like she was about to murder the both of you.

you huff, rolling your eyes. chaewon sighs and turns her head to face sakura, knowing that you weren't willing to answer the question she had just asked.

"chae, it's hard, okay? we didn't really...end on the best terms, so it's too weird to just start speaking normally to each other as if nothing happened." the japanese woman says, grimacing at the memory of the break up.

does she regret it? yeah. every waking moment she regrets it. does she still have feelings for you? maybe. she isn't entirely sure anymore. can she undo what happened between you and her? unfortunately, no. she wants to, but she can't, and it's all her fault.

"i know, i understand that but," chaewon pinches the bridge of her nose and squints hard before continuing. "we're a team now. both of you have to stop hating each other so much, even if you're exes. you need to do it for the rest of the group, and for the fans."

you hate to admit it but your leader was right. the other girls and the fans don't know about you and sakura's past, so you have to suck it up and pretend like nothing happened, like you aren't still heartbroken.

you have to pretend like you were never in love with miyawaki sakura.

the words "i love you" were never actually exchanged by you or sakura during your relationship. it was felt, but never said. and honestly, you were quite grateful for that fact. otherwise, the break up would've hurt more than it already did. you knew that well.

"okay," you say hesitantly, looking at your leader and then to the eldest. "we'll...try."

and for the next few weeks, try you did.

it was going well so far. you and sakura eventually moved passed the awkward exes stage and into the friendly exes stage, a major improvement from the month before. the only thing you had to do now was keep it up.

your group was currently promoting your latest comeback 'antifragile'. after performing the song for music bank, your group was getting ready to leave. yunjin had to go to the restroom, so the rest of you just waited in the hall until she came back.

"y/n?" a voice calls, and you immediately turn to see who it is.

"miyeon, hey!" you say enthusiastically. the (g)i-dle member pulled you into a tight embrace and you smiled as you pulled away. "it's been so long!"

"i know! i've missed you so much,"

miyeon had been a close friend of yours ever since she was a trainee and you were in produce 48. the two of you have always stayed in contact but rarely got to meet up outside of work, so the both of you took this as an opportunity to catch up.

you were too occupied with miyeon to notice yunjin come back from the restroom, and you most definitely didn't notice the glares sakura was sending your friend as you spoke to her.

"y/n, we have to go." chaewon then speaks up, tapping you on the shoulder. you nod and say goodbye to miyeon, noticing her group calling for her too. your group made their way out, and the girls started chatting.

"i'm so tired. i just wanna go to bed," eunchae says, and kazuha nods in agreement.

yunjin gasps, "you're tired? i'm so hungry i can't even think about sleep." she admits, and they laugh.

"i agree," you say, then turn to the eldest who had been oddly quiet the whole time. "i say chef sakura should cook us her special ramen." you chaffed, but the older didn't seem too pleased.

"why should i make it? you can cook it yourself if you're so hungry." the tone in sakura's voice was aggressive, and everyone could tell something was upsetting her.

well, everyone except you, because it doesn't surprise you whenever your ex acts like this towards you.

"because it's always better when you make it."

sakura can't hide the light blush that settles on her cheeks and trickles down her neck at your words. god why was she feeling like this? she ignores the way her heartbeat was now ten times faster than before and rolls her eyes.

"it'll taste the same if you make it." she says, entering the car before you could give a response.

"what's up with her?" you mutter under your breath as you follow the others into the vehicle.

you couldn't help but notice that the car ride home was weirder than it should've been. eunchae and kazuha had fallen fast asleep at the back of the car, so obviously it was a lot quieter than usual. but there was something else.

someone else.

everyone had gone to bed by now, but as always, you were still awake. you had left you and kazuha's shared room to make some tea since sleeping wasn't something you were planning on doing anytime soon.

you lean against the kitchen counter, mindlessly staring at the kettle boiling the water, waiting patiently for its whistle to calm.

"you're still up? it's late." a voice interrupts your empty thoughts, and you look up to see who had just spoken, a little startled since you had assumed no one else was awake at this time.

"sakura." you watch as the japanese woman walks over to stand next to you, rubbing her eyes slightly, noticeably tired from the exhausting day. "why aren't you sleeping?"

there's a brief silence before she speaks up, and when she does, her voice is barely above a whisper.

"i'm sorry."

you stare at sakura, confused. "what?"

she sighs, "i-..i'm sorry about today. i shouldn't have been such an asshole to you, i was just—" she pauses, and you can tell straight away that there's something on her mind.

"what's wrong, kkura-chan?"

sakura's breath hitches, and her heart is telling her several things she can't ignore.

kkura-chan.

she hasn't heard you call her that in forever. it was her favourite nickname you'd call her when the two of you were dating, and fuck did she miss the sound of it. she had always felt comforted and safe whenever you used to use it, so maybe that's why she was able to tell you the truth. the full truth.

"i was jealous," she starts, head down as she anxiously tensed her shoulders. "i was jealous of miyeon when the two of you were talking earlier and i felt...angry. not at you, or miyeon, but at myself. and i know, i know, i have no right to feel jealous of it because you're not mine anymore and you've moved on, so i should too but i can't because it fucking hurts—"

"kkura."

"—and i'm saying this now because i don't know how much longer i can go without telling you that i still have feelings for you, and i regret ever breaking up with you every day of my—"

"sakura!" your shout stops her from continuing her rant, and she only looks up at you with an apologetic expression. she doesn't dare say anything more, and just waits for you to yell at her, or tell her that she's a shit person, or ask her to leave.

but no. instead, she's met with something nothing could've prepared her for.

your lips were on hers.

you kissed her, and she immediately kissed back. you were the first to pull away, though the kiss was only short, and sakura could only wonder one thing. why? and as if you could read her mind, you told her exactly why.

"i love you, kkura. and honestly?..i don't think i ever stopped. i was never able to move on from you, even if i knew i had to...i just couldn't. no matter what i did to try and forget, i couldn't help but miss every part of you. i missed your voice, i missed your smile, i missed the way you laughed and the way you made me laugh. i just missed you. and when you left, i knew i wouldn't be the same, because i'm nothing without you, sakura."

she's staring at you in absolute shock, and you're staring back with a hinge of fear, but there's something so soothing about the soft smile that ever so slowly forms on her face.

"i love you too, y/n. i always have."

and then, this time, it's sakura who closes the distance.

neither of you waste any time, really. sakura's hands make their way to your hair and yours are on her hips.

sakura seems more sure of herself in the harsh light of the kitchen than she's ever been, her hands firm, and seeming to know exactly what she wants.

she presses forward, pushing you back into the counter as your lips move together, hands smoothing over the fabric of your shirt, down down, and then under, and then up, and when you feel sakura's long fingers stroking the skin right under your ribs, you hum against her mouth.

there is a lot happening all at once, hands and mouths and bodies, and sakura bites gently against your lower lip like she knows what she’s doing, and that's because she does. she always does.

you breathe in all of her, and her scent is one you've grown to miss. sakura sighs against you, fingers scratching at the base of your neck while your hand slides up to slip into her shirt from below, tracing over her warm skin.

sakura makes a sound, a small, ragged sound, and you can hear it so clearly in the silence of the empty room. her teeth bite down a little more harshly when you grab firmly and you make a small, ragged sound of your own.

you slide your leg between sakura's, pull her even closer, drink in her surprised noise with a grin before carefully, carefully, coaxing sakura's mouth open.

she tastes like the strawberry lip balm she used to always use so long ago, and you can't help but smile against her lips, because it’s sakura, your sakura, whom you realise hasn't changed at all.

and then she whines, just when you thought that small, ragged sound was the best sound you'd ever hear, and it’s almost involuntary, the way you drag sakura's hips closer. her hands press more firmly against your ribs, slip forward to press against the indents of your abs, slip down, fingers dipping under the waistband of your jeans.

the door opens and there's a very obvious echo of someone clearing their throat as you and sakura rush to pull apart.

"this is not what i meant when i said 'try to get along',"

sakura shyly buries her head into the crook of your neck to hide her flushed face as she holds in a laugh.

"are you mad?" you ask chaewon.

your leader shakes her head. "no. quite relieved, actually." but her face doesn't change from the scolding look she wore initially. "but that doesn't mean i'm letting you two continue your make out session. i need sleep, and i'd rather not hear any more sounds coming from either of you. goodnight."

chaewon leaves, and you and sakura burst out into laughter.

"i missed you, kkura-chan."

she smiles.

"i missed you too, y/nnie."

#miyawaki sakura #miyawaki sakura x reader #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #kpop x reader #sakura #sakura x reader #kpop #kpop gg #le sserafim scenarios #let chaewon sleep #tenjito

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ro-is-struggling · 3 months

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Halo, I would like to request james potter × slytherin!reader with this lyrics “Just because it won't come easily // Doesn't mean we shouldn't try” (Easily by Bruno Major) when you're a pureblood prince/princess, and you and james are secretly in love. But of course, there have plenty of problems along this journey. But in the end, you guys end up together. Massive angst in the beginning and fluff in the end. Thanks!

Hi beautiful💜 Thank you so much for participating in the celebration!! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your request, but better late than never, I guess. This one came to me so quick I'm kinda pissed it took me so long to sit down and write it. No kidding, I wrote it in like 2 days wich is really fast for my overthinker ass lol I hope that you like it 💕

Easily || James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Your social status and the expectations of your parents don't allow you to date someone like James, so you keep your relationship a secret. However, when he decides he can't go through with the act anymore, you find the courage to stand up to your family.

Warnings: angst, secret relationship, fluff, fem!reader, slytherin!reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 4000

This fic is part of my 600 followers celeration

James watched you from his place at the Gryffindor table, sad eyes glued to your figure. You were with him again, chatting over breakfast as if you were best friends. James knew the boy's true intentions, the whole school did, but he could do nothing but stare with hatred at the way he 'accidentally' touched your arm.

There was nothing he wanted more than to run up to you, take you in his arms and kiss you in front of the whole Slytherin table so that everyone would know that you were his. But he knew he couldn't. The only thing that making your relationship public would do for you was bring you more pain and suffering. Your parents were very strict, pureblood wizard royalty who looked down on most of the wizarding community. They had a well-planned future for you, with everything and a partner included, and James was far from that ideal. He knew that you hated it, that you felt trapped in a life you didn't want and that you loved him above all else. That was the only thing that kept him sane when he had to see you sucking up to that slytherin boy your parents adored, knowing that you were only really you when you were with him. But lately it was getting hard for him.

It was hard for him to live on stolen moments, sneaking around the castle just so he could be with you for a little while. It was hard to pretend to be indifferent when he saw you walking through the corridors, holding hands with that guy like you really liked him. It was hard to love you in secret, knowing that your relationship was disapproved of by everyone you knew. James wanted to shout from the rooftops about how much he loved you and how happy he was with you, but he couldn't do more than whisper to his pillow every night about how much he wanted to be with you.

He had been wondering lately if all the pain was really worth it. He loved you, but that wasn't enough to help him bear the weight on his chest anymore. He wondered what was the point of holding on to something that hurt him so much for just a few minutes of happiness. You had no possible future, at least not a happy one. Maybe it was better to end things before it got any harder. Maybe the heartbreak of having to let you go now would save him a lot of pain in the future. Maybe it was time to face reality, put aside his desires and accept that his love was nothing more than a forbidden dream.

Doubts were going around in his mind at all times, not leaving him a second of peace for himself. At least that was until you appeared, your smile emerging in the darkness of the hallway as you ran into his arms. And as he held you close, all questions were silenced by the intense love he felt for you, heart beating hard against yours. All you had to do was kiss him and he fell, surrendered to the softness of your lips, loving the way you whispered his name and told him how much you missed him.

For a moment, everything was right again. You were with him, where you belonged, and the world seemed to be a better place. It was a fantasy, a fictional world you created every time you snuck out at night to see each other, but it was your world at last. A bubble of happiness, away from the sad reality outside. There were no parents or social mandates, no expectations or hatreds to separate you, just you, James and the love you had for each other.

He allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, losing himself in the softness of your lips and the warmth that your delicate touch awakened in his skin. But then he felt it. That guy’s perfume lingered on your skin, like a constant reminder that you weren't his —not really, not like James wanted you to be-and that you never would be.

"Wait, stop!" He murmured against your lips, lightly pushing your shoulders away from him.

"What's wrong?" you frowned at him, confused by his sudden rejection. Did you do something wrong?

James looked at you for a moment, but remained silent, watching the concern in your eyes as he wondered if he really was about to voice his concerns. You tried to approach him again, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. But to your surprise he pulled back, giving your hand a light squeeze before removing it from his body. Then he let out a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

"This... w-we... I can't do this anymore." James struggled to say, unsure of what were the right words to communicate what he was feeling.

"What do you mean?" You spoke cautiously, hoping he didn't mean what you thought he was getting at.

"I can't keep hiding us, our love, what I feel for you... It's too hard, I can't do it anymore." Your eyes glistened with accumulated tears and James felt his heart break into a thousand pieces once again. He hated to be the cause of your pain, but he had to be honest with you. The situation surpassed you and the love you had for each other was no longer enough, not for him at least.

"I know it's hard, it always has been. But we can get through this, James. I know we can." You reached out once more and this time he didn't reject your touch. You cradled his cheek with your hand and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "I love you, Jamie."

"I love you too, but I'm afraid that's not enough. Not anymore."

When James opened his eyes, you saw tears in them. He was hurting as much as you were, so why was he doing this? From the very beginning you two knew that your relationship would not be easy. You warned him countless times, rejecting his advances over and over again to protect him. He had assured you that he didn't care, that he would put up with anything to be with you. His insistence was the only thing that persuaded you to accept his advances, thinking that he would really support you and fight for your love. But now that seemed to be nothing more than empty promises.

"So you're just going to give up?" You asked, taking a few steps back as your sadness mixed with anger. James was supposed to be different, that's why you had opened your heart to him. "Just because it won't come easily doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

"But we did try and it's not working." James sighed, leaning against the wall with slumped shoulders. "I can't keep seeing you with him. I can't keep pretending that it doesn't kill me to see him being all over you, thinking that you're his. I can't stand to see the indifference in your eyes every time we're in public. It hurts too much."

“Do you think that it doesn’t hurt me?”

Your voice broke. Tears rolled down your cheeks, unable to hold them back a second longer. James felt even worse. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to run and hug you, to hold you close to him and never let you go. But he held back. This was a difficult but necessary conversation. He could no longer ignore his own pain —or yours.

"Do you think I like to be with him?" you continued, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "Do you think I like ignoring you all day? You're the only good thing in my life, James."

"Then why do we keep hurting each other?" James said, almost whispering. There was a clear sadness in his voice that made the knot in your throat tighten. "Love is not supposed to hurt this much."

Your gaze softened as you noticed in his eyes just how deep James' pain was. A fresh wave of tears rolled down your eyes as you realized your mistake. All this time you had been asking so much of him, thinking he would be okay because you were. Your life was hell, but it all got better if you could just get five minutes alone with him. He was what made your days tolerable, he was the one who put a smile on your lips. James was the light at the end of the tunnel, a ray of hope for your future. But he didn't have your life, so your relationship probably didn't mean the same to you as it did to him.

James had wonderful parents who adored him and supported him in everything. He had friends who loved him and whom he could confide in. He wasn't lonely like you, he didn't need to cling to your love to feel a little happiness. He was happy with or without you because he had the freedom to make whatever he wanted with his life. Hiding and having to lie about his feelings probably hurt him more than it hurt you because James didn't have much to gain in your relationship. You were the one that would lose everything if he wasn't by your side. The suffering you were putting him through probably wasn't worth it to him, not in the same way it was to you.

You had been selfish. All this time you had thought only of yourself, how happy you were when James wrapped you in his arms, how easy it was to get out of bed in the morning knowing that at night you could be with him. James gave you a purpose, a glimmer of hope of escaping the perfectly planned future your parents had planned for you. But you offered him nothing but animosity and suffering that was only rewarded with a couple of hours of intimacy and happiness a day —if you were lucky. All this time you had been hurting him more than you knew, ignoring his pain for your happiness. And realizing that made you feel horribly bad about yourself.

"Maybe you're right." You spoke after a long silence. "Maybe it's better to stop this before it goes too far. We both knew it was just a dumb fantasy anyways." You let out a bitter chuckle, wiping away your tears as you took a step closer to James. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I never wanted to hurt you, James."

"I don't regret our relationship, we were just trying to make it work. And I don't regret my love for you, I... I just can't do this anymore."

"I love you," you murmured, reaching out to caress her cheek once more. You gave him a smile —trying to pretend you weren't falling apart on the inside—, but it quickly turned into a sad pout. "And that's why I have to let you go. I can't keep hurting you like this. I'm sorry, James. I truly am."

He rested his hand on yours, keeping you from removing it from his cheek. If this was your goodbye, James wanted to enjoy your touch at least for a little while longer, to remember the softness of your hands and the warmth of your skin against his body. He knew that what he would miss the most were your kisses and the sound of your laughter, but he had to get used to it. This was for the best.

"I love you too."

You shared a kiss, one last goodbye kiss. Your lips moved slowly over James', trying to drag out the moment as long as possible. You were going to miss his kisses, the taste of his mouth and the way his lips molded to yours, as if they had been specially created to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

You didn't want the moment to end. You didn't want to face the cruel reality that would come as soon as he parted. You wanted to get lost in the sweet taste of his lips and make a refuge out of his warm embrace. But that was impossible. You had lost your chance with him and now you had nothing left to do but watch him go. It broke your heart, but it hurt more to know that it was your love that caused him pain. Hopefully James could heal now, forget about you, find someone who could make him happy. And you... that didn't matter. What mattered to you was that he was happy.

Two weeks.

Only two weeks had passed and you were totally miserable without James by your side.

You were used to the pain of seeing him walk through the halls without being able to even give him a smile, but it had never felt like this. This time it was much more intense, visceral. A tug at your heart that paralyzed you every time you saw him laughing with another girl. It was the pain of knowing that his heart no longer belonged to you. The pain of his absence, of the lack of his soft touches and gentle words of love whispered in furtive encounters. You missed him and, no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to hide it.

All your 'friends' knew something was wrong with you, but they didn't care enough to do anything about it. They would make a few teasing comments when they noticed your absence in a group conversation or ask you curiously what it was that you were staring at with such intensity —unaware that your eyes were fixed on James—, but nothing more than that. You were essentially a ghost, a shell of your former self. You moved about the castle and went about your routine as usual, but there was no real emotion behind the fake smile you forced yourself to put on in front of the others. Nothing made sense after losing James.

You had given up on life completely. You had no more energy or motivation to keep fighting anymore, it was too hard. Maybe it was time for you to accept your fate, just like all the women in your family had done. Maybe you had to give up and face the cruel reality: you were not meant to be happy. It made sense, the one time you had pursued your own happiness, away from your parents' wishes, you ended up hurting the only person who had ever truly loved you.

James deserved someone so much better than you. He deserved to be with someone without having to hide, someone who didn't have to think twice before holding his hand or kissing him in public. He deserved someone who wasn't afraid to say he loved him and show it in front of a room full of people. And as much as it hurt, that wasn't you, so you had to give up and let him go. You had to accept that maybe the fact that things didn't go so easily for you was a sign, a message from destiny telling you that you shouldn't be together.

It was the best thing for both of you, you knew that, but that didn't make things any easier. It hurt you to see James talking to Lily, flirting with her in a not-so-subtle way when you were only a couple of feet away. You knew that the best thing for him was to find someone else who could make him happy, but seeing him do exactly that broke your heart.

Why couldn't you be the one for him? Why couldn't you enjoy your love in public like everyone else? Why couldn't you hold his hand as you walked down the halls or kiss him without fearing what others would say? Why couldn't you be happy with him?

You realized then what a big mistake you were making.

You could do all those things with James. The only thing that was really holding you back was your family and the opinions of a bunch of people you didn't care about in the slightest. You were letting them influence you, believing the story that you couldn't be happy unless you followed the path they wanted you to follow. You were giving up your power, your autonomy and your future as your parents expected. You were letting them break your spirit and get away with it by giving up so easily.

Maybe that negative voice in your mind was right and James deserved better, but so did you. You deserved to be happy and have the chance to explore and discover your own destiny. And right now that happiness, that path you wanted to follow, included having James by your side. So you got up from your seat at the Slytherin table —ignoring the looks of confusion from your study group— and ran in search of that destiny.

Finding James wasn't difficult, he was chatting with his friends in the courtyard under the shade of a tree. Lily was with them, but you tried not to let that affect you, taking a deep breath before approaching them. The closer you got, the more you felt the stares of everyone around you. You were the Slytherin princess and everyone was well aware of your parents' position on blood purity. They also knew the opposite position of James, Sirius and most of the Gryffindors. There was no reason for you to be approaching them, so people couldn't take their eyes off you, mumbling under their breath as they watched you walk by.

But you didn't let that get to you. You were determined not to let it bother you ever again. People could talk all they wanted, your parents could get angry and your Slytherin friends could isolate you, none of that mattered to you anymore. All you cared about was James.

"Can we talk?" You cleared your throat both as a way to get noticed as well as to make sure your voice sounded loud and clear.

Everyone looked at you with wide eyes full of surprise, not understanding what it was that someone like you could want to discuss with one of them. Knowing that James hadn't even told Sirius, who was like his brother, about you gave you a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, it was nice that he had been so willing to keep your secret that he hadn't even mentioned it to his best friend. On the other hand, it made you feel bad to know how alone he had been in all this, and made you wonder if maybe there weren't other reasons why he hadn't told his friends. Maybe he was also afraid of them finding out he was in love with you. Maybe his friends hated you and wouldn't accept James going out with you. Maybe...

"Here?" James spoke, interrupting your thoughts. He looked around, noticing the many eyes glued to your back. "Are you sure?" he insisted, and you nodded. There was not going to be any more sneaking around.

James walked a couple of steps beside you, seeking to get a distance from his friends so that you could have a private conversation. However, when he tried to take advantage of a tree to hide from the prying eyes of the other Hogwarts students, you stopped him, opting to remain in plain sight.

"What are you doing?" He said and you didn't have to ask him what he meant to understand that he was confused by your attitude. The rules had always been clear, no one could see you together because it would raise suspicions and could reach your parents' ears. So he wondered why you were suddenly approaching him to talk to him in a public space.

"I don't care if they see us together!" You spat without hesitation, deciding it was best to get straight to the point. "Not anymore."

"What?" The surprise was clear in James's expression —eyes widening and lips trembling as he spoke. He definitely wasn't expecting you to say that.

"I've been thinking a lot these past few days and I realized how wrong I was. I put you through so much, made you sacrifice everything for me and the moment you told me you had enough I just gave up."

"Y/n, it's okay, I-" He tried to say, but you interrupted him, taking a step towards him and taking one of his hands. James' eyes rested on your intertwined fingers for a moment, before returning to your face.

"Let me finish, this is important." you told him and he simply nodded. "It wasn't fair, the way I treated you. I isolated you and hurted you just because I was scared of my family, of what they might do to me. I made you sacrifice everything for me and when it was my time to do the same I just let you go instead... and that was wrong of me, and I'm here to make it right."

"Y/n, what are you saying?" James asked cautiously, waiting to hear from your own lips what he believed was what you were referring to —that which he had been waiting to hear since the day your relationship had ended.

"I'm saying that I'm sorry. I'm saying that I love you and that I want to fight for us if that still is what you want."

"A-are y-you sure?" It wasn't that James wasn't happy to hear you say that. It was literally a dream come true for him. But he didn't want to force you to do something you would later regret. He hadn't broken up with you to manipulate you, he had done it because he really needed a break. He didn't expect his decision to change your mind, even though he really wanted to. There was nothing in the world James wanted more than to be able to make his love public, but at the same time he didn't want to hurt you. And he knew that your relationship would only bring you trouble.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." you told him with a smile that made all his doubts and built up sadness disappear. "I want to be with you, Jamie. You are my happiness, and if my parents can't see that...well, that's their problem, not mine."

James smiled, taking a step toward you to close the distance between you. He reached out his hand with the intention of caressing your cheek, but stopped halfway, his eyes looking over your shoulder at the people watching you curiously. At his hesitation, you took his hand in yours and brought it up to your cheek, closing your eyes for a moment as you enjoyed feeling the warmth of his skin against yours once again.

"Can... can I kiss you?" James muttered, his voice an almost inaudible whisper. His eyes were focused on your lips, admiring them with need. He knew it would be best for you to go slowly, but he missed your lips so much that he couldn't contain the need to kiss them again.

"Please."

James looked into your eyes one last time before closing the distance between you, bringing your lips together in a long awaited kiss. It was quick, his lips moving delicately over yours, but no less intense for that. It was just what you both needed at that moment, to feel each other's love, which remained as strong as the day you said goodbye.

Neither of you cared about the looks of the others around you as you pulled away from the kiss. You were too happy for that. All you had to do was look into James' warm eyes and all your worries disappeared. You knew things wouldn't be easy and that you'd probably be hearing your parents' scolding in no time, but you were ready to face it. You could face anything if James promised to stay by your side.

#james potter x reader #james potter x fem reader #james potter x slytherin!reader #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter x female reader #ro's 600 followers celebration

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igotanidea · 1 year

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Empty promises: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N: first of all, sorry to everyone wainting for "Traitor", but I felt the need to write something sad and heart wrenching so here;s that. For now. Angst coming right next. Oh, and you have been warned, this is sad. And got spoilers for ep.4/5.

***

„Alina? Are you decent?” Y/n peeked through the door the very second the queen’s seamstress left the room.

“Y/n! Please, come in. It’s so good to see your face.” Alina struggled in the dress “I wish I could greet you properly but I can’t, quite, move in this.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard some rumors about certain Saint and the outfit trouble.” Y/N laughed wholeheartedly ”I don’t think it’s really your style, no matter what the queen mother may have to say about that. I may have an idea to save you from that torture though. If, you let me, that is.”

“Please. Anything.” Alina shook her head

“All right then. You know, a tailor would probably be better with the fitting, but as an Inferni I can surely give you something to boost your confidence” Y/N started turning around, picking another outfit for sol koroleva.

“Y/N.” Alina said and the timbre of her voice made the other Grisha stop in her track and look up “How… How are holding up? With me and Nikolai….?”

“I’m fine” Y/N assured quickly. Too quickly to make it believable. “I just ….” She sighed deeply, gathering all the strength she had to finish that sentence “I just wish he told me sooner, you know. Not just leave me like that. Given all we have… had….” she corrected and covered a little tremble by coughing “But he just left me as surprised as any other Grisha in the room when he announced your engagement and it feels like betrayal, Alina. “ she went silent for a minute “but yes, apart from that I am perfectly fine. Now, let’s focus on the suit.”

“Y/N” Alina grabbed her hand gently “I am sorry for what you are going through right now.”

“Well, we all have our burdens to carry, right? I suppose this is mine.”

“I know it does not make anything better, but I know about heartbreak and making tough choices. Nikolai loves you in a way he would never feel about me. And I feel that for Mal. This is all just a political alliance, nothing more.” Alina assured.

“You know, sancta, when Nikolai left to be Sturmhond I spend two years searching for him, east to west and south to north. And when I did and we got together this was the best time of my life. And I shouldn’t have enjoyed the sea so much, but with him, I did. And even then I always had this little tingling inside my head. A sneaky voice that was telling me, that we would not last. Turns out I was right. And truly, no one is to blame for that.” The Inferni smiled sadly “This should do the work” she raised the garments she prepared for Alina “I should better go before the seamstress came back. Just for now pretend you’ll wear the dress , all right? Can’t show all the cards at once.” And with such words, she left the chamber, unnoticed by anyone.

The next person to come to Alina was not even remotely as welcomed as Y/N. Vasily came for a little chat coated with veiled threat and perhaps a bit of a warning, but Alina was too strong to let him beguile her.

And then, when time came Nikolai appeared at the door for a little pep talk.

“Well, you look lovely” he smiled eyeing Alina already up and ready in her second army regimentals.

“Y/N came and helped me put this little thing together. So much better than….” Her gaze focused on the dress nearby and the girl rolled her eyes.

“She’s been avoiding me.” The prince said sadly “not that I blame her, but how can she not miss my company even a little? Am I so easily forgettable. She really acts like I’ve grown a pair of horns or started breathing fire…..” he tried to keep his cool and joke around but Alina knew him well enough to see through it.

“She’s an Inferni. A little fire could never discourage her. But she’s hurt. Twice as much since you kept her in the dark about this whole arrangement.”

“I wanted to save her pain. And possibly myself.”

“’You failed at that.” Alina pouted

“Anyway, I got something to complete the look.” He took a step closer and reached inside his pocket retrieving a green gem “the Lantsov emerald….”

“Nikolai, we don’t have to do this, if it’s too hard. “

“Let’s just keep the pretenses up, shall we? Just remember, shall you decide to punch me, you will probably take my eyes out with this on, and I would not like that.”

***

“Have you seen Mal?” Alina started spinning around, searching for the one face she so desperately needed to see “It’s not like him to be late.”

“Perhaps your little tracker is not such a fan of festivities as you.” Vasily approached the pair from behind, with some drink in his hand and Alina immediately excused herself, leaving two brothers alone.

“You know, my little brother” Vasily started “I always knew you would not end up with that little Inferni. Why settle for a commoner when there’s a living saint in the palace.” He laughed and took a sip on his drink. “now you will get fire from someone else! I’m sure the Sankta had a lot of it, judging by her actions. And Y/N. Waste of time. She was always a challenge, even when she was a kid.”

“Don’t you dare talking about her like this.” Nikolai hissed, but still kept straight face in a prince-like manner

“Why do you even care at this point, brother? From what I know, she’s been avoiding you, am I right? But look” he pointed out in the crowd, where Y/N was talking to Nadia and Tamar, laughing for the first time in a while “she’s right there. Don’t you wanna talk to her. If has any dignity, which I doubt, she would not cause a scene in public.”

Even though Nikolai knew his brother was only goading him, his brain shut off when legs carried him towards the other side of the ballroom, straight to her.

“Y/N.” he spoke and all three girls turned around, each one of them showing different expression. Tamar was curious of what was going to happen, Nadia a bit stressed out about her friend, and Y/N…. Y/N was just in pain and nothing could have hid it.

“Moi tsarevich” she bowed, avoiding his eyes

“Please, stop it. Can we… can we talk for a minute? Please.”

“We are not going to interrupt you….”Nadia started, but Tamar was on the other side of the barricade in the matter.

“I will. I’m not leaving her with you in this state, Nikolai. You know, you are both my friends, but she’s the victim not the other way round. “

“Tamar” Y/N put a hand on her shoulder “it’s all right. It will be just a minute to clarify this little misunderstanding . I’ll be with you before you notice I was gone.”

“I still don’t like it…” Tamar muttered, but let Nadia drag her away to have a little chat with Adrik and watch Alina. When they both left Y/N took a deep breath and before Nikolai was able to say a thing she took the lead of the conversation.

“Nikolai. I don’t really think it’s appropriate to leave your fiancé alone. Especially with Vasiliy acting like a predator tonight.”

“Vasiliy is drunk.”

“He’s been drunk since the age of 18. Remember that time when we played a prank on him and had to run through the palace in the middle of the night?” she smiled

“And when we ended up squeezed in the cupboard to avoid his wrath? Yes, I remember that.” Now they were both laughing outloud “I also remember what happened later on….”

“Nik. Stop it” she warned, her cheeks getting a bit flushed. Of course he had to refer to the moment they shared their first kiss “this is not the time or the place.”

“My feelings for you did not change.”

‘And do you think mine did? But you are engaged now. And I get it, Nik, I really do. You did what you though was right, as always and I can’t blame me for that. We are all pawns in this crazy political game and the point is to minimalize the damage. If that means you getting with Alina then I cannot interfere. I still be there for you both. Even if it is in the sideline.

“Y/N…. I….”

“It’s all right” she raised her hands almost embracing him, but stopped herself in the last minute. “You should probably go join your family, your mother has been eyeing us for a while now and she knows we have past. Can’t risk anyone getting suspicious, right? Moi tsarevich” she bowed and went back to join Tamar, Adrik and Nadia, who pulled her into a hug.

From then on, everything started happening extremely fast. Vasiliy came onto the podium to gave some mockery speech about his brother, the man of the hour, but in the middle of it, Darkling’s shadow monster decided to drop by and well, cause a little havoc, killing the speaker and some other gathered people. It was chaos. Alina, Tamar, Adrik, Nadia and Y/N were trapped on the one side of the room, while the Lantsov (or rather whatever was left of this family) where stuck on the other.

“They have no heart, no pulse, no nothing!” Tamar exclaimed trying to use her heartrender powers

“Every creature has a weakness” Adrik spit, observing the monsters carefully from behind the table they used as some sort of shield, Y/N following in his steps.

“Those are shadows” the girl said “Look, Adrik, you were right, they have to be in their full form to touch and hurt someone!”

Before another shadow could attack Nikolai and his mother, Adrik came from one side throwing a gust of wind his way, Nadia doing the same on the other. Y/N used this as an opportunity to grab a spark from the nearby candle and throw a fireball straight into the middle of it. For a second, when the monster was tearing apart her gaze met with Nikolai’s who was just frozen like a deer in the spotlight.

“GO!” she yelled at him “Take whoever you can and GO!”

“Everyone into the tunnels!” Nikolai ordered, but before he himself rushed off, he just threw one last glance at his one true love and moved his mouth silently.

“Come back to me.”

***

“You three go find Alina, I’ll go check if there’s anyone lost in the corridors to get them to safety” Y/N commanded her friends ready to run the other way

“Have you lost your mind!?” Tamar spit at her “You are not going anywhere alone.”

“I’ll be fine Tamar.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that from you hundreds times before.”

“And I am still alive. A little bruised and scared but alive. Not planning on dying today, I swear. Alina needs you three and there’s no time, so I’ll just see you downstairs. GO!”

***

She was running one of the palace corridors, stating with the greatest relief that all the Grisha that were not killed were off the palace and probably on the way to the tunnel. She almost reached the entrance, but mere meters before, another shadow monster blocked her way.

“Oh, Saint!” she hissed annoyed and focused her energy to gather just a little bit of flame since sadly, there wasn’t any external source of it anywhere near. It was always harder to get fire from nothing, but it used to work for her. Most of the times.

Not this one.

The fire that came out of her hands were so weak it barely reached the shadows let alone cause them any harm.

“Oh, shit…” she mumbled when darkness enveloped her whole and tried once again, this time fueled by fury and worry about her friends. Maybe Tamar was right and she shouldn’t have left them. Nonetheless that was not the time to dwell on the past mistakes, since it was extremely hard to breath inside that fog the monster were created from. It was like all of a sudden she found herself in the fold again, broken and scared. “Hell no! I am not dying today” she put her hands up causing a flare and dissipated the shadows finally getting herself free.

If only it wasn’t for that cut with sharp, thorn-like edges on her leg, which she did not notice or feel.

***

“Is everyone safe?” Nikolai came from one entrance to the tunnels, meeting with Alina and Tamar coming from the opposite.

“Adrik got hurt in the arm, Nadia is with him.” Alina explained “the healers are taking care of the injured. What about the ones you came with?”

“Saved as many as possible” Nikolai turned around “where is …..?”

“That idiotic girl left us and came for the rescue. I told her she should not….” Tamar’s voice broke a little

“Where is she, Tamar?!”

“We… We don’t know…..”

“I’m here!” all the emotions he felt upon hearing her voice where just too much to handle and not caring about anyone or anything or whether he was acting like an engaged prince he took off running towards her, wrapping arms around her and pulling her close to his chest.

“You’re safe, love. You’re safe.” He whispered again and again caressing her back, tangling fingers In her soft, messy hair and just getting lost in her.

“Nik…” she gasped taking a sharp inhale “I… I don’t really feel so good….” She stumbled a bit and this made him worry.

“I know, darling, but you were so brave up there. You saved my life with that little trick of yours. And you always said you couldn’t do fireballs. Guess me being in danger enhanced your…..”

“Nik, I really do not feel good” she mumbled and all her strength suddenly left her when her legs gave up and she collapsed into his arms, the embrace being the only thing shielding her from falling straight to the ground.

“Y/n? Come on, tell me, what is it, where does it hurt?” he started panicking just in the slightest.

“My leg….”

“May I?” he hesitated before lifting the material of her pants.

“Saints! Stop being a gentleman now! ” Tamar hissed and started tearing the pant-leg “I wish you were this polite at all those night on the ship instead of giving the crew sleepless nights “Oh….”

“How… how bad is it?” Y/N asked, raising her head from where It laid on Nikolai’s chest and he quickly turned her head away.

“It’s gonna be fine” he assured, grabbing her righter and kissing her temple “I’ll get you to a healer, all right?”

“Mhmmm……” she mumbled, slowly losing consciousness.

“I’m gonna lift you now, ok?” one of his hands sneaked around her back, the other went below her legs when he moved her from the ground “you’re gonna be ok, just don’t close your eyes, love.”

Out of instinct Alina wanted to join them on their walk to healers, but Tamar stopped her.

“Don’t” she shook her head, eyes a bit glassy.

“No.” Alina just stated. “Please tell me it’s not….” bus since Tamar was a heartrender there was really no point in arguing.

***

“Nik…. You smell so good.” Y/N hid face in his chest, locking arms around his neck

“I am all sweaty from the fight and running, honey. As much as I love what you are saying I do not smell good.”

“You smell like the ocean.” She smiled lightly “Like the sunny day on volkvolny”

“We’re going to have a thousand more of such days so you could dwell on the smell.”

“I…. I don’t really think so, Niki.” She hissed in pain when he reached one of the makeshift flop and called upon the healer

“Always a joker, aren’t you?”

“I wish” she started coughing, a little blood appearing on the hand she tried to cover her mouth with. “Tell me the truth, Nik. How bad is it. Cause it hurts like hell.”

“I don’t want to look. I;m not a healer, I don’t have any experience…..”

“You…” she gasped “are a trained soldier. You know about wounds. Tell me.”

“It’s not good” he closed his eyes almost like those words caused him unimaginable pain and grabbed her hands. “but the healers…..”

“The healers have too much work on their hands. And judging by your voice….” She coughed a bit more

“Sh, don’t say anything more. Let me just… Grigori!” he called upon one of the corporalki “she needs help.”

“Immediately, moi tsar” Grisha answered and it was probably the first time Nikolai realized that he was the king now.

“Moi tsar” Y/N smiled faintly “it suits you so well, lapushka. Auch! It hurts….”

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wound is unusually deep and it seems like there’s some kind of venom in your veins, going straight to the heart and…..” Grigori started slurring

“There’s nothing you can do, right?” she asked simply

“I’m so deeply sorry, Y/N, moi tsar.”

“Not your fault.”

“Leave us.” Nikolai hissed through gritted teeth and Grigori practically run away trying to avoid king’s fury “Y/N….” he leaned toward her, cupping her pale cheek and caressing it gently “I don’t want you to go….”

“Selfish. As usual. You don’t want me to go, mhm. Do you think I…. auch, want to die like this?”

“I need you with me….” He kissed the top of her head

“Selfish. Again. You got the sun summoner now."

"You are my sun."

"Stop flirting with me on .... on my .... death.... deathbed" she squirmed trying to lift herself up but it was too painful “Help… me….” She panted and Nikolai grabbed her waist with one hand and supported her back with another “I don’t have much time left… I feel it almost in my heart….”

“I don’t want to go on without you.” he whispered

“I know.” tears started showing in her eyes and he wiped them away breathing heavily “I’m scared Nik” she admitted trembling “I feel so cold. Can you just hold me? I don’t….” she gulped “I don’t want to go alone….”

“I’m here with you. No matter where you go, afterlife, I will find you, I swear.”

“Not if…ekhem! Oh, saints, it hurts so much” she cried and his heart broke at that sobbing coming from her. The sounds he would never recover from. Reminded that he failed to protect the only person he ever truly loved. And to think she was dying in his arms, while he was about to marry another woman. This was like a punch in the guts “not if I hunt you first.”

“I love you” he just had to say it. Maybe it was selfish again, but he needed to know that were the last words he said to her “I love you and I will always love you.” he kissed her knuckles, looking straight into her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Nik. And I’m sure you will….” Her voice was becoming so small, so quiet, almost audible in all commotion “… have a long, happy and fulfilled life. You’ll be great king. And a father…. I….” she closed her eyes “I’ll see you later, Nik…..” and just like that there was silence.

And this was the exact moment Tamar clenched her fist and faced the wall, her back to other Grishas so no one would see single tear falling from her eye.

She said she’ll be fine……. Empty promises always hurt the receiving end of those.

***

“Nikolai? We need someone to get everyone together and ….” Zoya was blissfully unaware of the tragedy that just fell upon the king and was her usual self when she entered the part of tunnels were healers were stationed “what… what happened?” she stuttered at the view in front of her eyes.

Nikolai was not a king at the moment. He was just a broken man who just lost the love of his life. Not crying, just sitting next to her still figure, holding and caressing her cold hand, unable to stop. Almost like he was in a trance. For what he cared the world could stop spinning and it would not make any difference for him. But for her…. He was going to do anything to avenge her death. But he would do that in a second, for now, he just wanted and needed to stay with her a bit more, even if that meant just watching her face, surprisingly peaceful and running a hand through her hair.

If only he could indulge in that greedy need.

“Goodbye, my love….” He whispered planting one final kiss on her forehead and tugging at his hair stood up to protect and guide his people, his subjects.

#shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lanstov fiction #nikolai lantsov angst #shadow and bone angst #heartbreak

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tarotwithlove · 6 months

Text

PAC ⋆ what do they wish they could tell you?

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · five of wands, knight of pentacles, the devil.

“you think i didn’t care about you, but i did. i’m trying to let you go but it’s hard, because so much of who i’ve become is tied to you and everything this connection has put me through. because so much of my growth came as a direct result of how much you, in your own way pushed me to grow.

sometimes i think about picking up the phone and calling you, just to pour my heart out to you and let you know everything i’ve ever thought or felt about this connection. but i can’t. this distance between us is too great and you are now so out of my reach; at a distance that feels almost permanent.

so instead of telling you that i love you or that i miss you or that i wish things had turned out differently, if i ever get the chance to talk to you again i’ll only tell you that i’m proud of you. that i’m excited for what the future has in store for you, because i know that your future is great. that if you could just smile at me once more and tell me goodbye for the last time, i will be happy.

i’ll always be your biggest supporter, whether you know it or not.”

GROUP TWO

cards · the fool, knight of cups, eight of cups.

“you taught me so much about what love could be. about what love could look like and feel like. about what it could mean to be with someone without the weight of fear of disapproval and heartbreak looming over me the entire time. but, more importantly, about what it could mean to love and trust myself through whatever the universe throws at me.

i think of you and i feel like waymond wang, wishing for another life where things aligned for us; for a life where i didn’t have to choose between you and me. but that isn’t the life that we have, and as things stand i am okay with sacrificing a chance at love for a chance at success.

and maybe one day in the future i will look back with regret that i walked away from you and everything that this connection could have been. maybe one day i will look at the life i built for myself and wish, wistfully, only for you to be there beside me. but for now, i hold my head up high as i walk further and further away from you.

thank you, for everything. for the love you have brought into my life; for the kindness you have shown me; for the passion you have lit in my heart. you have given me more than you could ever know. maybe one day this goodbye will hurt, but for now it has set me free.”

GROUP THREE

cards · ace of wands, two of swords (reversed), the hermit.

“i’m coming back for you. this time apart has pushed me to understand myself and my feelings in ways i could never have planned or imagined. i think about you now and it is with neither pain or confusion, for once i know what i want to do. i know that i want to be with you.

i want to be able to message you and call you and hear your voice whenever the fancy strikes me, instead of missing you so painfully and wondering what you could be thinking about at this very moment.

i want to tell you everything that has happened since we last saw each other. i want to hear every update that i have missed, every new experience, every new encounter. everything. i want to pull you to me and kiss you until we’re both laughing and out of breath.

i just want you. and i think that i am finally ready to tell you as much.”

GROUP FOUR

cards · three of cups (reversed), page of pentacles, six of cups (reversed).

“you want me to say that i have spent every day sad and miserable, thinking about you. and while at a time that may have been true, it isn’t true anymore. i have let you go. and the thought of you no longer plagues my mind—gratefully so.

i loved you once, i will never lie and say that i didn’t. what’s the point in that anyway? we both know where we stand with each other; we both know the truth of this connection. tell me you looked in my eyes and didn’t see the overwhelming love i had for you. tell me your every action towards me wasn’t shaped out of your love for me. you can’t.

you think i didn’t know, but i knew. you think i’ll just hold on, but i won’t. your idea of me is warped because you refuse to see the new version of me that i have grown into. i want more from this life than holding onto you and waiting for things to align. i want more from this life than holding onto you and wondering if now will be the right time, or now will be the right time, or NOW will be the right time.

i wish you the best, i really do. but i have a life i want to build for myself, dreams i am going after, and goals i am working hard to achieve. i have a life i am creating for myself, and this connection just does not fit into that. if you want a place in my life, come to me and bravely ask for it, because i refuse to keep lowering myself to stay in a connection that is anything besides outright. that is anything besides consumingly romantic.”

#**#tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarotonline #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #witchblr #love tarot #love tarot reading #channelled message #channeled message #spirituality #spiritualism

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peterparkouryo · 1 year

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rebound ii | ✧.*

✧.*

prompt; After Peter ends your relationship after admitting to being in love with someone else, you're a mess and very very miserable.

warnings: semi heavy angst, fluff if you squint

word count: 4.7k

part one part three

It's been four days since your birthday, and your break up with Peter.

You were sad, no you were miserable since that day and you cried every chance you got. It's not because it was on your birthday, if it was any other day you'd probably be just as worst.

Today was Monday, which meant today was also another dreadful, long and dragging, boring day of school. You'd rather be in your bed, eating ice cream as you cried watching a rom-com that was just as bad as your life.

When you got to school, you went straight to your locker, put your things inside and got all needed accessories for your upcoming class. The first class you needed to be at was social studies, which thankfully didn't have him in it, just your friend Betty and his friend Ned.

"Hey, Happy belated birthday!" Betty quickly exclaims the moment you walk into the class room, a couple students glancing at you or her in curiosity.

You send a grateful and albeit, weak smile as you slowly but surely make your way to your assigned seat which just so happens to be right next to her.

"Thanks." You softly mumble just as you sit next to her, the blonde haired girl excitedly turning towards you with too much anticipation.

"So, how was your birthday?" She asked.

"Also, sorry I couldn't be there." Betty quickly added before you could answer.

You wanted to tell her that it was fine, that you enjoyed your birthday with just you and your mom but the last final hour of your birthday was truly the worst part of that whole 24 hour day.

"It's fine, umm, I guess it was okay." You tell her, leaving out the very heartbreaking details you so badly wanted to tell her.

"Did Peter shower you in presents? Did he take you on a date!?" Ohh, did he give you that necklace that you've been ogling for the past few months?" Betty asked, question after question.

Now, you had no other choice but to tell her, and quite frankly, you did not want that to be the agenda for the day, but curse Betty and her curious, bubbly personality.

"Actually, we broke up." You tell it how it is, not sparing to glance at her bewildered expression.

"Broke up?" She repeated in disbelief.

You hum in response, digging into your backpack next to you and pulling out your notebook to jot down the notes on the board, completely trying to block out Betty and her confusion.

"When?" Betty quizzed, her eyes switching back and fourth from your notebook and your side profile.

"He broke up with me, on my birthday." You tell her, looking back down to your notebook, now scribbling nonsense.

Before she could even respond, you continue.

"Apparently, he was in love with Michelle, you know the girl from our math class? The whole entire time. Well, I don't exactly know when he fell in love with her, but it certainly was during our relationship." You rambled, holding back the frustration and tears that threatened to break through.

days you've been going through for the past few days. You still think it's your fault for why Peter broke up with you, he probably found you boring and you didn't give him the attention he needed, which is why you strongly believe he fell for someone much better than you.

You didn't hate Michelle, you actually genuinely liked the brown curly haired girl, she was quiet and observant and super smart, so you can see why Peter liked her a lot. She could also be dark at times from what you remember, and sure it confused you of how and why Peter liked that but maybe you didn't know your ex as well as you thought.

"Y/N, I am so sorry." Betty said, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you didn't shrug off because you honestly needed some sort of comfort from the past few days.

"It's nothing, I'll be fine." You lied, turning your attention away from her to look at the board once again as the teacher finally decided to teach the class.

It was finally lunch time, and normally you'd sit with Peter and Ned, but that was a no go. Well, it would've been a no go if the other tables weren't full and if Ned hadn't invited you to sit next to him. And who were you to decline an invitation from the nicest boy ever?

So, you made your way to the table that was made for awkward moments, only seeing Ned sit there happily eating his lunch.

"Oh, hi Y/N." Ned greeted you just as you sat directly across from him with your lunch tray in hand.

"Hey." You greeted back, showing a smile.

You knew you were going to regret sitting here, given the fact that Peter is bound to sit here as well and there's no doubt that Michelle would be sitting here also, but you tried to ignore that initiated gut feeling and focus on anything and everything else.

Maybe if Peter saw that you were trying to move on, he'd believe that you did, though all of that is complete and utter bullshit.

"So, you know how in our science class we have that upcoming project about disparities?" You hear Ned's voice ask, glancing at him just in time as he shoves a salty fry into his mouth.

You nod, playing with your food instead, the anxiety slowly creeping into your body.

"Well, I was thinking since you and uhh...you know what never mind. Do you want to be my partner?" Ned questioned quickly, eyes filled with hope.

"Are you only asking me because I'm the smartest in that class?" You tease, narrowing your eyes at him in amusement.

Ned lets out a whole-heartedly chuckle, but before he could joke back a voice you very much expected interrupts you both.

"Sorry, the lunch line was really long..." Peter says defeatedly, tossing his friend a bag of chips as he sat down next to him.

Okay, so maybe you should've declined Ned's offer, but he was sort of your friend and you didn't have lunch with Betty anymore, plus sitting alone would probably be just as miserable as sitting here with your ex, who was in love with someone else.

You're sure you hear Ned respond to Peter's apology, but you're not quite too sure since your brain and ears are filled with anxiety, your head feeling fuzzy at Peter's presence. You could sometimes occasionally feel Peter's glances, probably curious as to why you're sitting here, but you wanted to make a point that you're over him and you didn't sit here because you cared about him still (which was a lie), but because Ned invited you and he was your sort of friend.

"Michelle's in the library today, since she's not really a people's person." Peter informed Ned after his question as of where the brown curly haired girl was.

You were thankful for that, you didn't think you could handle much more of misery.

You're not one hundred precent sure if they're dating now, but if they are you failed to notice, and maybe Peter is just deciding to take things slow since the boy did just get out of a relationship, with you.

The boys continue to make small talk, you ate in silence, or played with your food in silence until the lunch period was over.

And as soon as the bell rung, you hurriedly got up from the table, threw away your lunch and made a bee-line for the cafeteria doors, shoving and squeezing your way through the herd of students.

You sighed in relief as you made it into the hallway, holding a hand to your chest, almost, just almost crying right then and there but you remembered that you were in public, and at school too.

Just as the students that once littered the busy hallway made their ways to the next class that they had, you heard your name being called in the now shallow hallway.

You turn around hesitantly since you already know that voice all too well.

It wasn't Peter, but Michelle, coming from the library doors.

You always knew somehow god wasn't on your side.

"Hey, uh..." The girl started as soon as she approached you, a clad of books stuffed in her right arm.

"Hey.." You mumbled awkwardly, sparing glances at a few students who walked by to get to their next class.

Michelle was as awkward as you were, it was very obvious in the way that the tension around you surfaced rather quickly. You both knew why, it was an unsaid understanding.

"I think I owe you an apology." Michelle states, her eyes never leaving your face as you slowly trailed yours to look into hers.

"For what?" You dumbly ask.

You knew why, you just needed to hear her say it.

"I never meant for Peter to fall in love with me, and to hurt you. I honestly didn't think you two were a thing until a week ago." She admitted, and you could sense how nervous her voice was with that confession.

You knew you had a reason not to hate her, she was just as confused as you.

"It's fine, really." You lie, showing a rather obvious fake smile.

"No, no, it's not. I know he broke up with you on your birthday which is a really shitty thing to do, and I also know that it's not fine. If I could take back his feelings for me and give them to you, I would." Michelle concluded, her aura anything but foulness.

It was really reassuring knowing that the girl felt guilty for your now ex's feelings for her, her showing you the unexpected sympathy, something you thought would be the last thing you would receive from her.

But it was always really confusing how if she has feelings for Peter as well, why feel sorry for you? You did want him to be happy, and if it wasn't with you, so be it. You didn't want to be the reason Peter's unhappiness wasn't fulfilled.

"Michelle, listen." You started, standing up straight to look at her.

"I may be going through a lot with this, but I don't want to be the reason Peter is unhappy. That's the last thing I ever want for him. So, if he wants to be with you..." You trailed off with a shrug, hoping she understood where you were going with this.

Instead of answering the girl just stares at you, her eyes confused, as well as her facial expression, the features slowly falling into a more understanding expression, something you wanted her to see.

"Are you sure? I didn't want to get in the way of any unsaid closure..." She says, pressing her lips into a straight line.

Closure. The word only used to resolve problems. You didn't think breaking up with Peter needed closure.

"Oh, right...closure. I guess we do need to talk." You sigh.

"I would before he decides anything else. I mean that is if you're ready, it's only been four days." Michelle tells you, pushing up her books more into her arm as they were slipping.

You knew she was right, you did say yourself you wanted Peter to be happy, even if it was in a short amount of time.

"I'll just text him and ask him to meet me in the library after school." You tell her, hearing the bell ring, signalling the final warning to get to class.

"Good idea, tell me what he says." Michelle says with a nod before walking past you, mumbling a soft 'bye', and you too decide to make your way to your next period.

You unfortunately kept true to your word to Michelle, and as soon as your last period was over you texted the last person you wanted to see, asking him if you two could talk and to meet in the library after school.

It only took him maybe five or six minutes to respond, saying a quick 'okay'.

So here you were, really nervous, scared, maybe even sad for obvious reasons, waiting at a table that was way in the back of the library, not wanting to be disturbed by any teachers or students that lingered around in the book filled room.

You silently played with your fingers, your entire body on fire with anxiety. You sort of wished he would hurry up so it can get over and done with.

To be quite honest, it reminds you of the time he admitted to having a crush on you. You both were nervous for two totally different reasons. You, being nervous because you thought he was going to tell you he didn't want to be your friend anymore (and rightfully so because of how he was acting during that time), and him, because he of course liked you.

Any oncoming thoughts were caught short as your gaze was met with a familiar head set of curls, and compelling brown eyes coming your way, in a dazed state.

"Sorry, I uh...was busy." Peter mumbled, setting his backpack (the third one you saw that week), onto the library floor next to the seat he pulled out to sit down at.

"It's fine." You shrugged off, your hands now in your lap, keeping your distance, something you hope he didn't notice.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" He asked, looking at you expectingly.

It took a lot of will power to keep your composure.

"Well, I talked to Michelle.." You trailed off, watching his every movement, seeing his pupils dilate just tiny bit.

"Oh?" Peter questioned, slightly biting his lip nervously.

"Yeah, she said we needed some sort of closure before you decide to get into a relationship to her." You told him, looking down at your fiddling hands in your lap.

Peter took notice of how truly nervous you were, and he couldn't help but feel bad, knowing he was the main reason for this.

He also noticed the lack of sleep, due to the much obvious under bags in your eyes, something he had a feeling also had to do with him.

"Right, closure." Peter nodded, clearing his throat.

There were a load of questions you had for him, many that probably would help you better understand how, when and why he fell out of love with you the moment he spent more time with Michelle.

His distance from you during the upcoming end of your relationship put you in a spiral of thoughts, the kind of thoughts that kept you up at night. It also didn't help that you were already an over thinker and the thought of messing up your relationship with Peter always scared you.

Most people would say that dreams come true not nightmares. It wounded you more than anything that you biggest fear did in fact come true.

You didn't really care if he was going to end up dating Michelle, it was bound to happen anyway. You just wanted to know the when and why. You wanted to know what you lacked during that time so in future relationships, you'd be able to avoid it.

"Before we talk, I, um, bought you this." You hear Peter say, the boy reaching inside of his backpack, digging in it before retreating it with an item, holding it toward you.

You reluctantly look up from where your eyes were practically trained on your lap, your hands still shyly there.

It was a small box decorated in your favourite colour, purple.

"What's this?" You curiously asked, taking it from his expecting hand.

"Just a late birthday gift." Peter shrugged, obviously not aware of just how inappropriate and inconvenient his timing was.

"Oh." Was all you said before stuffing it in your pocket.

You'd open it later.

As the day went on, the awkward tension build up, rarely anyone now was in the library, a few ongoing studiers, parents with their kids, or just advocate readers. You wanted some sort of miracle to happen so you wouldn't have to go through this uncomfortable situation.

It was clear neither of you knew how to start this conversation. You had no idea what to say or how to approach the topic of the closure you needed.

You couldn't tell if Peter noticed how miserable your appearance was, both mentally and physically, but you knew he must have known somehow.

"I'm really sorry I broke up with you on your birthday, had I known...I'd probably would've waited." Peter finally speaks up, with a heavy lump down his throat.

Your hands bare on the table as you shuffle in your seat, preparing on a proper response.

The thought of Peter going to break up with your regardless if it was your birthday or not makes your heart feel heavy with a forlorn weight.

"It's, I, it's okay, I guess." You murmur, blinking rapidly for effect.

Another silence settled, and this time you did nothing (like you were before) to speak up and stop it. You thought the more quiet, the less talking and you wouldn't get hurt anymore if either one of you even tried to utter a word.

"I know I hurt you," The boy started, and you look up, waiting for him to continue. "But, I can't say that I, you know what, never mind." Peter waves off, struggling to find the write words.

"And you're barely saying anything makes this a lot harder than it should be Y/N." He says in defeat, reaching out to clasp his hands onto yours.

There was nothing on your end, nothing to be said, nothing you wanted to say. Though you needed closure, you really had no idea what to say. How do you tell someone that you clearly still had feelings for that you love him?

Peter of course, had no idea you even loved him, he of course knew you probably still harboured feelings for him, but he didn't know you had stronger deeper feelings for him. Had the boy not broken up with you on your birthday, you probably would slipped the L word, which probably wouldn't make anything better if you're being honest.

"I'm sorry, I just....don't know what to say." You admit, the warmth of his skin on top of yours sending a wave of shivers from your arms through your entire body.

"Start by telling me how you feel." Peter suggested, and that might not had been the brightest of ideas.

You felt like shit. There hadn't been a day that went by after your dreadful birthday where you didn't.

You squint your eyes at him, slowly removing your hands from his grasp.

"I feel like shit." You tell him, giving the boy a timid look, watching him nod slowly in understanding.

"Right, probably should've guessed that." Peter said shyly, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry." He adds on.

"You say that a lot, but do you actually mean it?" You ask him quietly, watching his pupils dilate at your request.

"'Course I do!" Peter almost exclaims, his eyes now wide.

"I-, listen I know I hurt you bad, but the last thing I want is for you to hate me." He stated, pouting slightly.

You didn't hate him, and you think that's even worse.

"I don't hate you, don't think I ever can." You say, pressing your lips together.

It'd probably be a good thing to tell him you loved him, but you were in public and it would hurt even worst if he neglected your love (which would most likely happen) in such a public area.

Maybe you should wait till later, or just honestly get it over and done with, the sooner the better, you thought.

"If I'm being honest Peter, I think-" You begin, your heart pounding wildly against your chest. Your head screaming at you not to do it, but when have you ever listened to your head instead of your heart?

"I think I love you." You whisper at your quietest volume, and hopefully god was on your side,. Hoping maybe Peter didn't hear it, but you lacked the knowledge of knowing Peter's secret abilities.

Either time froze or Peter was stuck in place for whatever reason (you were sure you knew) it was. Things seemed to have frozen around you, the people you were once aware of now gone, just you and your ex in this moment. And was it such a vulnerable one.

You watch as the boy's mouth fell open and closed, trying to conjure up something, anything to say at your sudden confession.

Your heart fell deeper into your stomach as the silence grew, you wished this time it wasn't so evident, the lack of ventilate from him bothering your head.

After a two minutes of silence Peter quickly gets up from his seat, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder almost clumsily.

"I-, I havetogo, sorry." The boy swiftly says, stumbling over his words before nearly tripping over a few chairs.

You figured this wouldn't happen, which might have been ten times worst than him actually saying something in return.

You had wiped the falling tears from your face, the mirror in front of you mocking your actions, but no matter what, the wet substance from your eyes would still fall down a lot heavier.

You sniffled before exiting the bathroom, making a beeline to your bedroom, closing the door and cuddling up into the bed.

After your conversation (if you'd even call it that) with Peter at the library, the minute you got home, you were hit with a wave of saddness. You cried more than you did on your birthday, and now you wish you hadn't told your ex boyfriend you loved him, didn't matter anyway.

You were grateful your mom had a late shift tonight, you couldn't bare the thought of her seeing you at your worst, questioning why you were the way you were. You lacked to even tell the woman you and Peter were no longer dating. You figured you'd wait a few weeks then drop the bomb on her, hopefully she'd spare Peter, but given her personality, you truly doubt it.

The crying hadn't really stopped, so when your face hit your soft pillows and more tears that got more intense as the night went on, you weren't all that surprised.

What did surprised you was the obsessive knocking at your bedroom window.

You didn't bother to wipe your tears when you sat up from your bed, aiming your direction at the window, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you saw your neighbourhood superhero instead of some sort of bird.

"Spider-Man?" You questioned bewilderedly as you approach your bedroom window, opening it from its handle.

You knew of him from the news, and it was really shocking to you that him of all people were here at your window at something at night for whatever the reason was.

"What are you doing here?" You ask him again, watching the hero crouch on the railing of your fire escape.

"Believe it or not but I heard you..." He says steadily, and you rose an eyebrow at him.

"Not that I was you know listening or anything, but I was near by and my senses can pick up things from far away." Spider-Man quickly says, holding out a hand in defence.

"Oh." You say, tilting your head as you wiped your tears.

"Seemed like a damsel in distress sort of thing..." He trailed off, expectingly waiting for your response.

You had no reason to tell this stranger your secrets, you both knew that, but something inside of you wanted to. You hadn't even known the hero for five seconds and yet you were ready to tell him your deepest darkest confessions.

"It's nothing." You settled for, having some moral ground.

"Sad movie?" Spider-Man suggested.

"Yeah." You nod, sniffling a bit.

Maybe he thought you were in some sort of trouble, but the more you thought about it the less sense it made to to tell a stranger about your conversation with your ex at a public library.

What advice could he possible give that would make you feel better? You don't know if he's ever even gone through something like that.

"Oh, well hope you feel better." Spider-Man offered. "Just doing my part of the 'friendly neighbourhood' motto." He adds, making you chuckle.

"Thanks." You smile.

You couldn't pin point it, but he seemed oddly familiar, maybe it was because he was so nice to you after your horrible day, week even, but you really appreciated his kind gesture.

"I-" He started, unravelling himself from his crouching position to stand on your fire escape.

"Y/N." Spider-Man says, and your eyes widen marginally.

Had you told him your name? You couldn't remember, but never the less even if you didn't, you wondered how he knew in the first place. Maybe you slipped it out from habit or he was some stalker type of hero.

The hero seemed to have noticed your confused state, the vigilante quickly ripping off his mask to try and calm your nerves, but you recognize his face all too well, instinctively going to shut the window, but unfortunately for your his senses way too quick for yours, his strength inhumane.

"Wait!" Peter cried out as you still tried to close the window but to no avail.

Peter easily slides the window up, causing you to let go repulsively, backing up from it as he slowly climbed in.

Every bone in your body was telling you to run, but where would you go, who would you tell? Now you never would tell anyone about your ex being the Queens superhero, but you don't think you can bare having this secret known to you so suddenly.

Peter being Spider-Man is a surprise, of course, and him using his alter ego just to talk to you in some sense after quite literally running away from your confession was making your mind fuzzy to say the least.

You started to shake your head for no particular reason, watching the boy close your window before turning back to you, his hair wild most likely from the mask, and a evident pout on his face.

"You-, you love me?" Peter asked, his voice cracking.

You couldn't conjure up the right words, your mind blank with empty thoughts. It was still shocking to you that Peter of all people was the spiderling you only ever seen on the news.

You never paid much attention to Spider-Man, and if you did, you'd probably would have figured out that Peter was him if you connected the dots properly.

"Y/N, please answer me." He pleaded, breaking you from your train of thoughts. You were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights at this point.

"I don't know..." You whispered, fiddling with with your fingers as sweat trickled down your forehead.

"But at the library you said-" Peter starts.

"I know what I said." You tell him, meeting his brown eyed gaze.

You blinked back tears, Peter approaching your figure, and you would had backed up to get away from him but you were stuck in-between him and the bed. Fortunately he placed his mask on top of your bed, releasing it from his brutal grip, you two now in close distance.

You were getting deja vu, the boy staring at your face, perfecting every angle he could before closing his eyes and exhaling a breath he had been holding in.

"You really shouldn't had told me that." He whispered, and you bit your bottom lip, nervously nibbling on it.

Peter reopens his eyes, greeting you with the honey colour you were familiar with, his pupils getting smaller as it adjusted to the light, you felt bad for the sad expression that was held on his face.

He slowly brings a hand up to your face, wiping a tear that had unknowingly fallen down your face before pushing some of your hair behind your right ear.

It's been a long time since he's showed you this kind of affirmation, the last time he ever did something remotely similar was the time he had broken up with you. You had no clue what he was thinking, was he going to kiss you, or scold at you for expressing your love for him when he clearly loved another? The possibilities were endless like the ocean, and so you wished he'd only say his motive so your anxiety wasn't so obvious.

Peter's eyes dip to your lips before glancing back to your eyes, him silently asking for permission. You give the boy a nod as your answer, mirroring his actions when he closes his eyes and leans in.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker angst

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in1-nutshell · 11 days

Text

Human Buddy going through a break up with the Scavengers

SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Comfort from everyone, Human reader

Buddy had been in a relationship before they had left Earth and kept in contact through the internet when they met the Scavengers. The group had heard plenty of stories about this mysterious partner of Buddy’s.

It was almost adorable to hear them rave about their partner.

As a gift for Buddy’s birthday, the Scavengers decided to travel to Earth. Spend a couple days on the planet, let Buddy have a couple dates with their significant other, sight see, the whole works. Everything was going well on their way until Buddy received a text from their significant other.

A text saying they wanted to break things off and promptly blocked Buddy from any form of communication.

Buddy is devastated and now the Scavengers have heard the story too.

Krok

Krok is hugging Buddy as they are sobbing into his armor.

He doesn’t say much at first, he knows he needs Buddy to calm down before anything else can be done.

When he thinks that enough time has passed, he is ready to get Buddy better.

All Scavengers are on deck.

He tries to get Buddy distracted in some of their old hobbies.

When they are playing Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang, Krok lets Buddy take a free shot at him. He is worried about Buddy getting better and he is doing the best he can to help them through this hard time.

Krok holding Buddy to his chassis.

“It’s okay Buddy, take your time.”--Krok

Buddy still clinging to Krok’s armor letting the rest of their tears fall.

“Sorry for taking up so much of your time…”--Buddy

“No, I told you was going to be here for you and I’m not going to go down from that promise.”--Krok

Buddy sniffles a bit pressing their face more into his armor.

Krok carefully runs his digits up and down Buddy’s back.

“There, there… there, there…”--Krok

Crankcase

His famous scowl gets deeper.

Crankcase feels for Buddy a lot.

He considers himself lucky seeing how his online relationship ended up working out.

Let’s Buddy have their time to be sad, but after that, he is not going to let them be sad for a sorry excuse of an organic.

The passive aggressive hype bot on board.

He and CONS-4EVA team up to get Buddy back on the dating field after a while.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ he will give Buddy a few more openings than usual, maybe even let them get a free shot at him.

Buddy scrolling through the dating app with Crankcase and CON’s looking at it too.

“What about this one?”--Buddy

“Hmm… red flag. He’s got a fish on his profile picture.”—CONS-4EVA

“All right, how about this one?”--Buddy

“Maybe… no, don’t do that one. She’s got a sketchy background.”--Crankcase

“…This one?”--Buddy

“…Put it in the cart.”--Crankcase

“You can’t do that on this app Crankcase.”--Buddy

Spinister

Spinister suggest shooting the person who made Buddy cry like this.

A bit awkward with the affection, but he is trying.

After a few days of Buddy being sad he’ll go on the internet to see what he can do about Buddy’s heartbreak.

A minor spark attack when he reads that humans can die of heart break.

His fleshy isn’t going to die on his watch.

Has Buddy in constant view and encourages them to seek out the team more.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ nothing changes much in their dynamic… except the few times he will let them have a chance to shoot him

Or maybe throw them at the opponent.

That one nearly gives Krok a spark attack.

Buddy was sitting on the table reading a data pad.

Spinister and Krok were drinking some enegex and talking about the latest hole Grimlock made.

Buddy twitches a bit before sneezing.

Spinister turns his neck so fast Krok is sure that he snapped it.

He jumps over the couch, snatches Buddy up, grabs a blanket and starts wrapping them up into a burrito.

“Spin—”--Buddy

“Shh! No talking.”—Spinister

Spinister starts walking to the med bay.

“Why are we heading to the med bay?”--Buddy

“Check if your organic spark is still online.”--Spinister

“Excuse me, but my what?!”—Buddy

“Their WHAT!?”--Krok

Fulcrum

As much as Fulcrum hates organics, Buddy has grown on him quite a bit.

That being said, he still isn’t completely comfortable with touching.

More words of encouragement kind of mech.

He does have sympathy for Buddy and their heart break.

Probably tells Buddy minor insensitive things about their ex later.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ he’ll offer himself as a shield three times and three times only.

Fulcrum holding a broom and gently petting Buddy from his perch.

“There, there.”--Fulcrum

Buddy looks up a bit strangely at Fulcrum who was on top of the fridge petting them with a broom.

“Everything will be okay eventually.”--Fulcrum

Buddy looks at the dust bunnies floating down on their lap.

At least he’s trying.

Misfire

Another one of the bots holding Buddy as they cry their little heart out.

Tries to make jokes too early on but backs off when he gets a bunch of glares and Buddy starts to cry harder.

Offers to go with Spinister to go shoot the person who broke up with them.

Top hype man for Buddy to get back on their feet.

When playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ defiantly makes an alliance with them and Grimlock.

50 50 on him throwing Buddy in the air.

“Got you now Mis—”--Fulcrum

“SNEAK ATTACK!”--Misfire

Misfire throws Buddy at Fulcrum.

Fulcrum screams and ducks, Krok swan dives and catches Buddy.

“Misfire! What in the name of Cybertron—”--Krok

BANG!

Krok looks at the suction cup stick on his forehelm.

Misfire walks over and grabs Buddy.

“HA! Eat it Krok!”--Misfire

Grimlock

While he can’t communicate too much, Grimlock does keep Buddy close while they are down.

Wants to squish whatever made Buddy this depressed.

He doesn’t want Buddy to feel sad.

He lets Buddy hide with him when things are a bit much.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ Grimlock offers himself as a shield, will growl at anyone who tries to get close to Buddy.

Misfire enters the room.

“Hey Grimmy! Have you seen Buddy around?”--Misfire

Grimlock looks at him before slowly moving his tail.

Buddy fast asleep at his side, snoring and twitching.

“Oh, I’ll come back in a bit. Sweet dreams you two.”--Misfire

Misfire closes the door.

Grimlock wraps his tail around them and continues to sleep to the sound of Buddy snoring.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #mtmte scavengers #mtmte scavengers x platonic reader

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lionlena · 11 months

Text

Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 2

Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart… She runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from this asshole.

Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58), strong language, swearing, past trauma, memories of sexual abuse, unprotect p in v, dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking

Part 2

When you got home you were one big bundle of nerves. Your whole body was paralyzed with fear. You were in a cold sweat, you had difficulty catching your breath and you couldn't stop your tears. It was as if all the bad moments came back to you in an instant. Every loss, every pain, and fear. You managed to get into the shower and turned on the water, not caring that you were still wearing your clothes. You sat in the corner and cried.

Luckily, Teddy was with Claudia, so you don't had to worry about him.

(flashback)

Traveling through wilderness, forests and abandoned cities was the disaster you expected. After only 6 months, of the group of ten people who left Boston, only you and Claudia remained. The rest died, either killed by a clicker, or in a trap set by other people, or from disease.

You and your friend were barely holding on either, though the journey had hardened you. But you had one more reason to fight for survival.

At first, you didn't worry about the lack of your period. You put it down to stress, small portions of food, and effort. But then your stomach started more chubby. Added to this was nausea and frequent fatigue, and when, 5 months after leaving Boston, you felt a kick inside you, you were sure.

That bastard left you not only with a shattered heart but a little piece of himself nestled in your womb.

But the strangest thing was that you didn't hate your child. Yes, YOURS. Only yours. You never thought otherwise. Joel's baby? Fuck no.

Your body fought every day for this little one's life. It was your determination that somehow prevented you from having a miscarriage.

You promised yourself that if you made it to the birth, you would give your child the love of the whole world. You will never look at your little one as a "mistake". You knew all too well the pain of being rejected.

Unfortunately, after 6 months, you and Claudia reached the "wall". Winter was approaching, you were exhausted and suddenly found yourself in mortal danger.

You have entered the territory of a people who hated intruders.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you?" snapped the woman who seemed to be the leader of the group.

You got up from your knees, put your hand on your belly, and decided to bet everything on one card.

"We don't want to be a problem. We're just looking for shelter because…" Claudia looked at you worriedly. Only a month earlier you told her about the baby. "I'm pregnant."

The woman looked at you sternly. "And you decided to risk that child's life and go on a journey."

You swallowed and replied. "I got pregnant the day before I left Boston. I couldn't have known."

"And father?"

"He's an asshole who thought a night with me was a mistake."

The woman jumped off her horse, walked over to you, and put her hand on your shoulder. "We'll help you."

Since then, Maria has always had a soft spot for you.

Suddenly you shook yourself. You couldn't just sit in the shower and cry. You had to fight for your son. Like you fought for him when he was in your belly.

You changed into dry clothes, prepared a meal for Teddy, and left a message for Claudia.

"I need to talk to Maria urgently. Please stay with Teddy. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Joel rubbed his cheek and entered the house. You didn't hurt him, but he was angry with you. What was wrong with you? He remembered how you fawned over him in Boston. You brought him cookies, you smiled at him and you were always close. Of course, the way he treated you in the morning, after the night together wasn't something he was proud of. But he hoped you'd understand. He was drunk, you were willing.

He decided to just avoid you. Apparently, you were still a child who couldn't control his anger.

You found Maria in the cinema hall. You pulled her aside and asked to talk. She immediately noticed your puffy eyes.

"What happened?"

"Throw Joel out of here?"

"What?" She looked at you shocked. "You know, I'm not too fond of him, but Tommy says he's changed."

You grabbed her hand. "People like him don't change. He's an asshole... He's..."

"Y/N, understand me. As long as he doesn't do anything wrong, I can't kick him out."

You bit your lip and decided to grab your last chance. "Please, it's for Teddy's safety."

Maria raised her eyebrows. You were still in the cinema hall and some kids just started laughing.

"Let's go to my office."

You nodded your head and followed her. During your conversation, you didn't notice that Ellie was standing behind the pillar and she heard your whole conversation.

Ellie burst into the house shouting, "Joel!"

He came out of the kitchen and asked, "What happened?"

He could see that the girl was nervous, and that automatically alarmed him.

"That bitch, who lives next to us, wants to kick you out."

At first, he wanted to scold her for what she called you, but the second part of the sentence caught his attention too much.

"What are you talking about?"

Ellie repeated your entire conversation to him, and he grew angrier with every word. You crossed the line and he wasn't going to forgive you. And he had no idea who was Teddy you mentioned.

Finally, he put his hands on Ellie's shoulders and said, "Relax. After dinner, I'll go over to her and explain everything. If that doesn't help, I'll talk to Tommy. In Boston, she was in love with me and now she's getting revenge for me staying with Tess."

You came home with a heavy heart. You told Maria everything in detail. She stated that she hates Joel, but it's still his past, and she promised Tommy that she wouldn't punish Joel for his past sins.

You were devastated, but you understood her at the same time. When you got home you were greeted by Claudia. She looked at you worried. You didn't have to tell her anything. She spoke first.

"Teddy is already asleep."

You looked at her gratefully and wanted to cry. Sometimes you felt like you didn't deserve a friend like her.

"Thank you."

She nodded and grabbed her jacket. "Drink something strong and try to forget this dick lives next to you."

You sighed and fell onto the couch. "This will be difficult."

"At least try!" she screamed before closing the door behind her.

When a few minutes later you heard a knock, you were sure that Claudia forgot something. You opened the door without hesitation and paled at the sight of Joel's angry face.

"What the fuck are you thinking?!" Joel stepped inside and you stepped back. "I know you were talking to Maria! You must be acting like some little bitch who didn't get enough dick! You went to bed with me knowing I was in a relationship with Tess! What did you expect?! That I'd give you a plastic ring the next day and we will play family?!"

You were so shocked that instead of shoving him out and slamming the door shut, you just stood there and cringed. And suddenly a tiny voice behind you made Joel shut up, and you took a deep breath.

"Mommy?"

You quickly wiped your tears away before turning to him. Your son was standing in only pajamas. He was hugging a teddy bear to his chest. You could see that he was scared. That asshole's screams must have woken him up. You smiled at him and knelt in front of him, completely ignoring Joel's presence.

"Teddy, baby, what happened?"

The little boy sniffled and asked, "Why is this man shouting? Will he hurt you?"

You ran your hand through his brown curls and shook your head.

"This man... He's just talking too loud. I soon finish talking to him and I'll come over to hug you." Teddy didn't look convinced so you added, "And I'll bring you some warm milk with honey."

The toddler nodded and you kissed his cheek and waited for him to leave.

All the while, Joel stood silently, staring at the boy. He looked like a little copy of him, and for a second he wondered if he was his father, but dismissed it. He didn't know what happened to you when you left Boston. Anyone could be the boy's father.

You regained your confidence. You quickly got up and walked over to Joel, pushing him towards the exit.

"Listen to me, asshole," you hissed, but not loud enough, so Teddy can hear you again. "Yes, I talked to Maria because you're not a good person. For God's sake, Joel, you know it. You've done terrible things and you will continue to do them. Look at you. You come in here and yell at me. You call me a bitch and…" You took a deep breath and rubbed your temples. "You don't think you've done anything wrong to me? Hmm? So think about it, would you like someone to treat that young girl, who is under your care, in the same way as you treated me?"

"Don't bring Ellie into this," he growled.

"I won't if you stay away from me and my son."

"Okay," he muttered, and without further delay, he turned and walked away.

As you closed the door, you felt your legs shake, but you couldn't break down. Your son needed you.

As soon as he entered the house, Ellie immediately asked him: "Did you show that bitch where she belongs?"

"Don't call her that," he muttered.

The girl seemed clearly surprised. "Why?"

"Because I'm asking you to."

"As you wish," she replied and shrugged. "But what's next?"

He sighed heavily and held the bridge of his nose. "Just avoid her. She won't cause us any trouble if we don't cause her trouble."

"Okay," she moaned dramatically. "You softened, Joel."

He smiled and shook his head. "Possible."

Joel's problem was that avoiding you wasn't easy at all. By some coincidence, you two always left the house at the same time, even if you changed your hours. You passed each other in the stable and in the dining room. You always looked away and pursed your lips.

You hated it, but over time you just tried to accept it.

The most important thing was that you somehow managed to keep your sweet son away from that monster.

Joel was moody as he entered the stables. He was on patrol with Barbara again and... To put it mildly, he hated her. The woman was about forty years old, a tall, slim blonde with a mouth that wouldn't close. She was gossiping about everyone and worst of all, he noticed that she was trying to hit on him. Every chance she had, she touched his knee, shoulder, side... He always shuddered at it and wanted to growl at her to fuck off.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the running boy, who hit his legs and fell on his bum. Joel immediately noticed tears gathering in his big brown eyes.

"Shit" he muttered under his breath and nervously looked around searching for "mother bear". You weren't anywhere around, so he knelt down beside the boy and offered his hand. He stroked the child's head. "Sorry Teddy, I didn't notice you... You're faster than a horse."

The baby boy looked at him surprised and with his help got up. "Really?"

Joel smiled. He didn't want the boy to cry. He had to comfort him somehow. "Sure! Fast as lightning. You're a fast little pony."

The little boy chuckled, his curls falling over his forehead. "Mommy always says I'll lose my legs if I run that fast."

"Hmm, interesting," he said and began to gently brush sand off the boy's pants. "What else does your mom say?"

Teddy grabbed his shirt. "That I should not talk to you."

"Teddy!" The boy immediately turned to your voice. "I was looking for you."

Your heart started beating faster when you noticed who was kneeling next to your son. You reached out your hand towards the child, wanting to get him away from this asshole as soon as possible. Your son waved to Joel and ran over to you.

You wanted to scold your son, but... He was so sweet and innocent. You couldn't blame him for being curious and open-minded like any child.

Joel slowly stood up and breathed a sigh of relief. He was afraid you'd make a fuss, but apparently, the presence of a child had a calming effect on you.

But throughout the patrol, he couldn't get the image of Teddy out of his head. He didn't listen to Barbara's chatter at all and suddenly asked, "What do you know about Y/N who lives next to me?"

The woman was clearly surprised that after such a long silence, he spoke to her. She furrowed her brow and smiled wickedly. "I think she's too young for you."

Joel winced. He didn't want to play in this game, but he wanted information. "Are you implying I'm old?" he asked resentfully.

The woman was clearly flustered. "No, I don't. That's not what I meant... It's just... Y/N has a mean personality and tends to stay away from men."

"And yet she has a child."

Barbara nodded. "Yeah, but she was already pregnant when she got here. Apparently, the father is someone from Boston."

Joel pretended with all his might that the news was not like a bucket of cold water for him. As if casually he said. "What kind of guy goes on a travel with his pregnant partner?"

"He didn't seem to know about the pregnancy. Y/N said she got pregnant the day before she left Boston, and the kid's father was an asshole."

Joel gripped the reins tighter and swallowed. "Really?" croaked.

Luckily for him, Barbara was so engrossed in talking about you that she didn't notice his nervousness. "I'm sure on 100%. I was on patrol at the time that we found her and that friend of hers. But I don't know if she was telling the truth. Maria was also pissed at her for risking pregnancy, so maybe she said that to calm her down. But I'm telling you, leave her alone, the city is full of better women."

She winked at him, but he no longer looked at her or listened. He was lost in his thoughts and wanted to talk to you as soon as possible. He had to know the truth, and he didn't know whether he'd be relieved or sad if Teddy wasn't his child. And if it turns out that he has a son ... Another child to lose.

You had already put your son to bed when you heard a knock on the door. You felt nauseous when you saw Joel. You tried to control your nerves and hissed, "Are you here to scare my baby again?"

"Just tell me, did Teddy is my son?"

You frozen. You felt as if all the oxygen had escaped from your lungs and you were to suffocate. You stared at him and remained silent. You knew the longer it went on, the more you convinced him of paternity. You finally cleared your throat and managed to choke out, "No..." Joel felt a mixture of relief and sadness, but just as he was about to ask another question, you added. "You're not his father. You're just a sperm donor."

He looked at you sadly and tried to find some words: "I…"

You saw how sensitive he was at that moment and decided to hit even harder. "Do you remember, Joel, I was just a hole you filled with cum. No feelings. Let it be. You don't have any feelings for Teddy. He's my son, only mine. To you, he was just a mistake."

Joel never thought that the words he said to you back then would come back to him and hit him with such force. He didn't even know what to say and just waited to see what you would do next.

"Now, to quote you, fuck off before Teddy wakes up."

And then you just closed the door in his face anyway and smiled. You didn't even care if Joel stayed at your door all night like a homeless mongrel.

You've never felt so satisfied in your life.

Part 1

Part 3

Taglist: @ajeff855, @anislabonis-love, @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi, @i-workwithpens, @milla-frenchy, @quality-lust @liatome @sarahhxx03 @creedslove @jojo-munson @pascalislove @sofiparallel

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller and you #dom!joel miller #joel is asshole #hurt #sadness #angst #Ellie Williams #joel and ellie #the last of us #tlou fanfiction

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berrystiles · 1 year

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Word Count: 10.1k

Content Warnings: Angst, Lovers to strangers kinda deal ya know, some cursing.

Summary: It's the summer before you head off to college, and there's a fear about that decision that keeps creeping in. You try not to let it drown you, spending time making summer plans for your friends and with your boyfriend Steve. It feels like you can do this, and you're happy to be staring into the summer ready to make memories that will carry you into college. However, unbeknownst to you something else is brewing and Steve has plans of his own. One unexpected breakup later and your summer now looks a lot more like trying to overcome heartbreak.

Author Note: I'm the only one to read over this, so me and Grammarly are all I have regarding editing. Also, I guess this is just what I write now! Inspired by my favorite sad girl songs, if you know them I'm sure you'll see them. I have ideas for a part 2 of this if anyone would be interested? All of this was supposed to be a one-shot type of thing, but it started getting long. Part two would be a resolution as we fade into a happy ending, and get some much needed answers.

Ao3 Link - In case you want to read it there

Steve Harrington is soft smiles passed your way over the tops of all the children he babysits heads. He is weekend movie nights spent curled up next to one another on his couch, so close that you sometimes think you could become one person if you tried hard enough. He’s not your first relationship, but sometimes when you can’t sleep at night there’s a reoccurring thought that he is going to be your last. Steve has been orbiting around your life since elementary school, close but never within reach. That was the way, only knowing him through rumors passed around the halls of Hawkins High, two passing ships in the hallway between classes. This last year though has brought him into your world, no longer is he a passing comet that you stop to stare at. Now he’s yours and your mom will chide and say it’s just high school love, but you can’t imagine a world where his hand doesn’t stay attached to yours. Call it whatever you want, but something about this just feels too real. The kind of love you hear about in novels, the kind people wax poetic structures about. You’re not sure what you did in a past life, or what karma you collected over time, but you’re thankful for the universe putting the two of you together.

The only bleak part of your future with Steve comes after summer ends. You’ve just graduated, and school is expected of you in a way that you know you can’t turn down. Steve has been more than understanding, it’s a pressure he recognizes from his parents. You have no clue what you want to do but your dad swears that you’ll figure it out when you get there. You manage to get into a good school but it’s 5 hours away from Hawkins. Your parents are ecstatic, they can’t stop talking about all the ways you’re going to grow in this next phase of your life. Your parents are the people who met in college, and even though they won’t say it there’s something about you needing to attend that feels a little like them trying to relive their glory days. You love them but you’re not sure if they know you or if they really listen when you talk.

You find that if you put on a smile and nod along to what they say though it gets you through conversations faster. It’s a small price to pay so you can escape the house and rush to Steve. Steve who you hate to leave behind, sweet Steve who has been there to hold your hand and be your rock through it all. You’re not sure if you’d be able to put up with your parents’ expectations if he wasn’t there with you holding you up. You worry you put too much on him like you weigh him down the same way your parents tend to do. Sometimes you tell him your concerns, and he’s always quick to quiet the fear.

The thing with Steve is he is so soft sometimes, and yet you can’t help but feel protected in his arms. Still though, even as he brushes your hair to the side, as his lips touch yours and he peppers you with affection and reassurance, you make a vow to yourself to try and reduce how much you complain. You can’t stop the anxiety that sometimes spikes up despite his kindness that maybe this all hurts a little too much for him. After all, his family held similar expectations for him. You know that his dad is a different kind of mean and demanding than yours. Your family feels like a small-time problem when put into the perspective of Steve’s parents.

You have a mantra you follow, reminding yourself that school, as daunting as it is, is still months away. You have a whole summer to forget about it all. A whole summer of nothing but your friends and Steve. You know you’ll be right next door at the arcade, your shifts and Steve’s always lining up because of a favor Keith owed you. There are plans in place that will carry you through. There’s the drive-in and their Friday night movie deals, sunny days that will be spent at Lover’s Lake, the regular Sunday brunch at your favorite diner, and so much more. You make sure to focus on those things, knowing that all of it will be enough to get you through that first semester of school once you finally go.

However, like with most things that seem to happen in Hawkins, your good luck runs out. You hate to say it, but you didn’t see it coming. Delusional bliss is apparently where you’ve been living and the rose-colored glasses you didn’t know you were wearing are snatched off your face without a moment of hesitation. Looking back the signs will be there in glaring neon colors, and you will hate yourself for missing them. For missing them to the point that you couldn’t even backtrack to fix where your so-called perfect relationship went off the tracks.

It's a week into summer and things are not at all going to plan. Your parents are pressuring you to cut your summer short and go to school three weeks early so you can settle in for classes. And honestly, it’s not the worst idea and if you were anyone else maybe it would be appealing. However, you’re on a fixed time frame and you don’t plan to give up one ounce of time with Steve and your friends before you absolutely must. Despite schedules syncing up, there’s a distance growing between you and Steve. At the time you understand, there are kids to be driven around and then his parents unexpectedly show up back home. You don’t blame him for the distance, you take it in stride and offer your support just like he’s been doing for you. The future version of yourself, will look back and call you an idiot for not digging deeper. But why would you? In all the time, though maybe it hasn’t been that long, Steve has never once been the cause of your anxiety. Never once has he ever done anything to make you question your relationship, or whether you can trust him or not.

After a week of only seeing Steve in passing and on lunch breaks, you finally get the chance to have uninterrupted time with Steve. He catches you on a break at work and asks if you want to get dinner once your shifts end. He doesn’t carry that same glowing smile he always does when he drops these moments on you, but you brush the thought aside assuming this is the residual damage from his parents. You’re just happy at the prospect of being with Steve so you’re quick to agree, and even quicker to pull him in for a kiss to seal the deal. In your excitement, you don’t notice how this kiss doesn’t feel like a welcomed hello, and later you’ll tell yourself that it was the first sign of goodbye. But in the moment Steve is pulling away, and he’s looking at you like he's tracing and memorizing everything about you. “I’ll see you after work,” is the parting sentence before he’s jogging back to Family Video.

Steve and you meet in the middle of your two jobs, and he holds out his hand just like he always does. He leads you to his car, asking you about your day. You tell him about the party coming in, and about all the different characters of teens who came in. You prattle on and on, all the way to your favorite diner. You ask him about his day and try to get him to talk more. A quiet Steve, with eyes not shining, is a version you hate to see. You want nothing more than to pick him up, hopefully, wash off all the grime that his parents so obviously threw on him in the short week they were home. It’s always hard doing this walk and dance, the scars his parents leave him with always cut deeper than you have an awareness of. But it’s never this impossible, by the time you’re leaving the diner you’re more worried about what happened during this visit home than you ever have been. You’ve learned with Steve that when it comes to his parents you can’t poke too much otherwise, he gets spooked. Normally, he finds a way to talk about it usually when you’re both back at his place and the light is off for the night. When it’s so dark in his room that you can’t see the way his face is lined with grief, and pain that he shouldn’t have to experience. You’re so used to the pattern that you don’t mind the car ride after dinner being just the sound of the radio. It’s not unwelcomed, it’s just a part of the pieces that happen, which is why you’re surprised when Steve parks in front of your house.

“Oh, are we not going to yours?” Your brow is furrowed as you turn in your seat to face Steve. Even when you don’t stay at his place, he still is always looking at you when you turn to leave. This time though Steve’s hands are still holding on to the steering wheel, and he can’t turn to face you when he finally gathers the ability to reply. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

The radio is still on, and your ears pick up Whitney Houston singing a new song that’s been playing everywhere. “What do you mean,” your stomach feels like it’s falling right out of you and your brain is giving radio silence as you try to gain some understanding of what the hell is going on. You watch as Steve takes a deep breath like he’s centering himself before turning to face you. Every time Steve has ever looked at you it’s been with nothing but softness, an unquestioning gaze that always tells you what he’s thinking. The Steve before you though, these are eyes that aren’t that sweet look he normally gives you. Instead, this one is cold, one that you can barely recall. You have to pull at memories from his reign as King Steve to find some type of look that’s like the one you receive now.

“I just don’t think this is working,” he shrugs like this isn’t the biggest thing to ever happen before. Like he’s telling you something that should be common knowledge.

“I don’t understand, Steve.” There’s a burning feeling in the corners of your eyes. The sensation is a warning that if you don’t pull it together, you’re going to start crying. You don’t know how to pull it together because what little Steve is telling you sounds an awful like a breakup.

Steve sighs, something heavy like he’s just so tired of having to explain himself. It’s an odd sound and it rubs you raw because he hasn’t explained anything. How can he already be tired of a conversation that makes no sense?

“Look, I don’t want this to be harder than it is,” you cut him off before he can continue. “So don’t make it hard, just tell me what’s going on and why you’re saying all of this.” You don’t recognize your voice. The pleading tone sounds watery and not at all like what you know yourself to be. You don’t think you’ve ever begged someone in this way before.

“I just don’t feel the same way for you,” it’s so blunt and to the point that it leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t understand,” you’re repeating yourself and you hate that. You’re not stupid, you can usually piece things together faster than this. The phrase, ‘having the rug pulled out from under you’ rattles around in a way that suddenly makes total sense.

“I don’t know how to explain it any better. I don’t want to date you anymore. I don’t want to see you.” You didn’t realize before that the cold tone he was using still allowed for kindness. In this final statement, his words are ice, and you feel like you just took a plunge into Lover’s Lake in the middle of winter.

You have more you want to say, questions that you feel need to be asked. If you stay though you feel like you’re not going to get them, and honestly, it’s taking more energy to keep yourself together than it would be to stay. You’re not sure if you say anything else if there’s some kind of acknowledgement on your part. All you know is that your body is screaming at you to run. Staying in that car doesn’t feel like a place you belong, so you’re quick to get out. You don’t even make it to the door before Steve is peeling off and driving himself home. The action feels like the last break in any resolve you had. Your Steve would always wait until you were inside before leaving. Always telling you he'd rather know with certainty that you were safe before he ever left. It was one of those things that told you how caring he was, that showed how he loved you.

______________________________________________________________

In what will later be referred to as The Aftermath, you have the next day off. Your mom hovers at your door, knocking and knocking. The sound makes your head hurt and forces you to pull your covers over your head like it’ll drown out everything else. If you had anyone else as a mother, you might be able to convince yourself that she’s doing it from a place of concern. The truth is that this is the same woman who when you came in last night, uncontrollably sobbing and barely getting out the words ‘Steve’ and ‘broke up’, your mom was asking if this meant you’d go to school earlier like she and your father want.

The tears had stopped sometime around when you finally found yourself falling asleep. They haven’t picked back up and everything you ever learned in biology screams out you’re dehydrated. There are things you should be doing, things that you have done for yourself when other relationships ended that made it so the person you were dating was nothing more than a faded memory. Maybe if you go through the ritual of it all, the gathering of reminders, and the disposal of memories it’ll make you feel better. There should be phone calls to girlfriends, and movie nights set up to help push you through these feelings.

Instead, you continue to stay in bed. Your limbs feel like lead, weighed down and stuck, too heavy for you to move. Your curtains are drawn so tight that not even the hot Indiana sun comes through to ruffle you into motion. Your wall has your attention, and you find yourself using the texture of the paint to trace all the lines in your relationship with Steve. Maybe if you follow them to the end like a map, they’ll tell you where you are and where you go from here.

In the midst of The Aftermath, in the bed of your grief, you manage to make one phone call. Well… that’s a lie. You make two phone calls. In no surprise to the imaginary audience watching you grieve; the first call is to Steve. The phone rings and rings and rings. Steve never answers and it should be a sign. You get the standard Harrington voicemail. Steve’s mom’s voice becomes the soundtrack to your day. She tells you to leave a message, and that the family will get back to you when they can. You open your mouth, no plan on what to say but surely there’s something there in your head that will tumble out. The answering machine beep is met with your silence though, just your breath coming through, you wonder if Steve will know it’s you even if you don’t leave your name. Does he still have you memorized in all the ways that you still know him? Did he forget about you in just the span of a day? Worst thought of all, did he even really take the time to trace you down in his memory the same way you did him?

You hang up after that last thought, still no name and still carrying the hope that it could be enough. Your second call is made two hours later when there’s still no call back from Steve, even though he should be off today too. Even though, there’s a piece of your mind screaming over and over that he should have heard the silence in the message and been able to read through it. Maybe that’s unfair of you to place that on Steve, but it also feels unfair that he had the power and took action to bring you where you lay now. The second call is to Keith at the arcade, where you know he’s working since you’re off today. The favor you cashed in on is wasted because your request is for him to take back your schedule.

“I can’t work the day shift anymore,” your voice is hoarse and throat sore as the words stumble out.

“That sounds like a you problem,” you grimace as you hear Keith chewing what you know are those stupid cheese snacks he always carries around.

You hold back a groan and tell yourself your next move, while incredibly bratty, is the only way that you return to work. Your parents hate you working at the place anyway, but you like the independence, you like having your own money and you don’t want to give up another thing this summer.

“It’s going to be your problem because I’m not working any shift that overlaps with Harrington. I’ll quit.” You hate how Steve has transformed into Harrington. Hate how removed it sounds, not at all reflective of how close you had been. If you say his first name though, you know you’re going to cry.

Keith whistles, the tone way too low and drags out in a way that makes you feel a wave of creeping anger you’re not used to.

“So, you and Harrington are over then. Knew he was stupid but didn’t think he was that stupid.”

“He’s not stupid,” your defense is soft, it feels telling of where you are. It isn’t harsh in the way that it should be. It’s not your job to defend Steve anymore, he let you go from that position last night after all.

“I’ll change the schedules,” is the response you get back and it’s the nicest thing that you think Keith has ever said to you. However, you know Keith, and this feels a little too easy.

“Is there a catch?”

“Nah, just can’t afford to lose you so consider it your lucky day.” It doesn’t feel like your lucky day, but you don’t say that. Just mumble out a thank you after he tells you that your shift tomorrow will be the closing shift and Harrington will be gone by then.

True to his word, when you pull into the shared parking lot of Family Video there is no sign of Steve’s car. There’s an awareness that it won’t always be this easy, that Hawkins is too small to go all summer without seeing him. And despite Keith’s previous comments on how he couldn’t afford to lose you, there’s also a silent understanding that he’s still going to be an absolute shit about all of this for the rest of the summer. Keith doesn’t know any other way to be, and it’s a moderate price to pay for your ability to at least show up to work without breaking down.

Dustin is the first one you see in The Aftermath, and you can tell by the way he keeps glancing at you in the arcade that he already knows what’s transpired between you and Steve. You’re not sure if it’s the telltale sign of the obvious breakup look you’re sporting, or if it’s Steve’s own admittance to the teen. Could be a combination of the two though. You looked in the mirror before leaving today. You’re fully aware that you look and feel like shit, and there’s no way to sugarcoat that.

Normally, Dustin would come to chat with you. Whether he’s with the rest of the party or by himself, he always says hello. He would do it before Steve, and you hoped that he’d do it after too. Dustin doesn’t say hello though, he avoids your gaze when you catch him looking your way, and even though you know at one point, he should come to you to complain about a machine he just leaves instead. The act makes you sad, it’s the first divide between the friendships you created and thought you would get to hold on to. Dustin might be in high school now, but he’s still a kid. Rationally, a piece of you should be able to string together how his silence speaks more about how he doesn’t know what to say and less about a side he’s choosing. Reality rarely ever plays out as it rationally should, so instead Dustin just becomes the first domino that falls, and you feel like you should have known everyone else would go along with him.

______________________________________________________________

The next three weeks find you oscillating like a fan. Days spent hiding in your room, working up the courage to move and take care of yourself. Then nights of work or spent rummaging through polaroids that catalog your relationship. You always told yourself you put them in a scrapbook, something to hold the years together so in old age you’d have something to shuffle through. It sounds silly now, but the pictures sit in a shoebox of movie stubs from the Hawk, the receipt from your first date together, and the paper menu from the diner that you talked a waitress into giving you. There are notes scribbled on lined paper that were slipped into your jacket pockets when Steve would kiss you goodbye as he dropped you off at school, dried flowers from prom, and so much more. After a week of crying over the pieces, ink smudging thanks to fresh tears your body can create again now that you’re hydrated, you manage to shove the shoe box in the back corner under your bed. You had to slide it back there with the broom, but you know it’s not within reach now and that feels like progress.

You still dodge calls from your friends that you collected outside of your relationship. When they manage to catch you on the phone they whisper sweet condolences, but underneath it’s an unspoken blame of how you should have known. “He was the King of the school, he only knows how to break hearts,” your friend Val tells you over the phone one night. Val pops her gum on the other end of the line, and it sets off a chain reaction of emotions. You feel like you’re going through the five stages of grief in that moment. Val tries to invite you out and reminds you that Hawkins has more boys than just Steve Harrington. She promises you a good time, a night to help you forget all about Steve. You make an excuse and promise to go out next time, but both of you know it’s a promise you won’t keep.

Your parents seem to have set up some game plan amongst themselves. They’ve learned that they can’t tell you that your heartbreak is juvenile. Instead, they preach about how open you’ll be to new opportunities when you head to school. Your dad has the course list, where he got it from you don’t dare to ask. He tries to plan out your future over dinner, but you don’t even know what life you want for yourself. Before this you just saw Steve in the future, you had naïvely assumed you’d have time to sort out the rest. But Steve’s in the rearview now, and your parents want to know what life you plan to have in your passenger seat.

It's three weeks of juggling it all, but you still haven’t seen Steve. It should feel like the universe is still on your side, but really, it’s more of a cosmic joke. It should be finally time for some peace, instead, the world feels the need to implode again. Your parents are out of town, an annual get-together with their old college friends, and you’re home alone. It’s late, you’ve only been off work for 20 minutes when you get to the grocery store. The pantry at home is bare bones and you’ve been putting off the need to go shopping for the last three days. You’ve been supplementing meals through various fast-food restaurants on the outskirts of town. But you’re tired of driving so far away, plus the taste of grease has become less and less appealing as the days have dragged on.

The evening finds you shrugging off your name tag from the arcade and running into Bradley’s to do some shopping before they close for the night. The air conditioning hits you right as the doors open, it cools your skin in a way that summer nights never will. You close your eyes and pause for a moment, maybe you look crazy, but it’s late and you don’t anticipate anyone else is going to be poking around the store. You grab a cart and you’re on your way, trying to be mindful to be quick because you know how it feels to work a closing shift. You wander up and down the aisles of the store, with no real list in mind just grabbing what sounds good. Your diet is still in a post-break-up mode which means you’re either only consuming junk food or pushing food around on your plate still too sad to eat. Which means, it’s time to be gentle with yourself and just grab the food that calls to you. Now is not a time for healthy eating and hitting every food group on that pyramid they went over in health class.

Because of this though you aren’t paying attention to what’s in front of you. You move through the aisles of the store with your eyes on the shelves, still having confidence in the fact that it’s just you and the store clerk in here. But remember, Hawkins likes to implode both literally and emotionally. You swing your cart into the next aisle, already excited to be browsing the cereal options. You only make it a handful of steps forward, eyes already searching for the cinnamon toast crunch which you’re rarely allowed to bring into the house otherwise your mom will complain. Your cart jolts and pushes you back, and you look up to find that you’ve hit another person’s cart.

You feel silly, and your cheeks are warm in an embarrassed flush. “I’m so sorry,” the words tumble out as you drag your gaze up to see what suburban mom you’ve managed to piss off tonight. When you see who it is though you find yourself wishing it was a mom about to yell at you, instead it’s Steve, you find yourself in front of. He says your name, a hint of surprise, and what you might have previously labeled as nervous energy. You must look stupid, both of you really, just standing in silence as the hum of the grocery store lights buzz on and the radio station the store is set to plays out louder than it should. Steve’s cart is full of popcorn, and snacks that you can trace to each teen you know he babysits, there’s even Robin’s favorite chips and the beer that Eddie likes to drink. All of it slides together and reminds you that it’s Saturday, which means movie night at Steve’s.

You don’t know what to say, and you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Frozen so that you can’t even run to escape the impending collision that is about to take place. It’s Robin rounding around the corner, her voice loud and unapologetic in a way you have always admired. “Hey, dingus, should we grab some ice cream for Erica, or do you think…” her voice trails off as she catches sight of you. “Oh,” and you look to Robin, she raises a hand to give a small wave at you and smile. It’s enough to also jump Steve into movement again, saying your name and you don’t wait to see if there’s more.

You don’t say anything as you turn to leave, though maybe you should have, at least to Robin. But she’s the headlights turning off and giving you the freedom to run. You can eat another fast-food burger tonight, and you hate that you’re just leaving your cart in the middle of the cereal aisle. But you can’t, you won’t just sit there and let yourself wonder that store when it’s obviously not a safe place.

The air conditioning hits you again as you run out the doors. No time to pause this time, and you actually seek comfort in the sticky heat that greets you outside of Bradley’s. The crickets sing to you as you rush to fumble with your keys and drive away before your past tries to catch you outside. You got three weeks of no Steve, and you had been lulled into this fantasy of maybe being okay someday soon. This though, this small interaction, where you didn’t even really talk to him, has shown that you’re not close to that. When you finally manage to pull into your driveway, your hand bangs down on the steering wheel. You mumble to yourself, “that was so stupid, you just ran?”

You’ll eventually make your way into the house about 15 minutes later, after you had completely gone over the entire interaction about three times. You know it will continue to replay all night long. It’ll be inside that you realize you never even stopped to get food, too focused on seeking the safety that you can apparently only find in your room these days. Time drags on and you keep opening and closing the fridge and the cabinets hoping that food will magically appear the next time you start looking. It’s late, Bradley’s will have to be a tomorrow you type of goal. You know Steve and the group will be up late tonight which means the morning will be safe.

You’ve resigned that tonight’s dinner will be a pack of saltines you find buried in the back of the pantry when there’s a knock on your door. Your friends know not to show up unannounced, and if your parents managed to come home early, they wouldn’t be knocking. It’s Hawkins, you remind yourself as you creep to the door, but then the additional it’s Hawkins kicks in and there could be anything waiting for you. You grab your mom’s tennis racket from the closet by the front door and peek out the peephole, but your porch light isn’t on, and you can’t see anything. When you open the door, tennis racket at the ready, there’s no one there. Instead, sitting on the mat right in front of your door is three bags of groceries from Bradley’s.

The bags contain all the items you remember dumping into your cart, including the added addition of one box of cinnamon toast crunch. You can’t prove it, there’s no note, but you don’t really need it do you? There are only two people who would have had access to the cart you left behind, and only one of those two would have added in your favorite cereal. An internal debate rages inside of you, one side of you wanting to leave the food on your porch. Hoping that maybe later Steve will drive by and see it still sitting there. Maybe it will be an ounce of the hurt he's inflicted on you. The other part of you though, the part whose stomach is literally just growling at the prospect of food, wins out. You drag the bags inside and spend the night cycling between the incident in the store and what the bags of food on your porch mean.

The next day feels like a relapse, and you find yourself pacing by your phone, the internal debate to call Steve rages on in your mind. The number of times you pick up that phone and start to punch in his number is too many to count. There’s only one time when you get through the whole number, you only let it ring once before you’re slamming the phone back down and rushing off to your room. You throw yourself onto your bed, face first into your pillow, and you scream. It feels like every emotion that’s been building up since that night in Steve’s car just forces its way out of you. You spend the rest of your day in bed, Don’t Dream It’s Over plays on repeat as you stare at your ceiling and only recognize time passing by the light that streams in from your window.

When your parents come back a week later you say that you want to leave Hawkins earlier after all. They don’t even ask why you changed your mind. They don’t press the issue, which you figured they wouldn’t, but it still stings. instead, they celebrate. Your mom pulls you into her arms and excitedly tells you that it’s the second-best decision you’ve ever made. Your dad chimes in about how the first was applying to college in the first place, his hand feels heavy on your shoulder. The smile you wear feels like it was pasted on, like some macaroni art piece a kindergartener does. Your parents don’t notice though, they never do, they move on already making plans about your departure. The choice doesn’t feel right, but then again, you’re not really sure what the right choice is any more or how it should feel.

______________________________________________________________

You spend the rest of your summer forcing yourself into spaces you don’t want to be in, but it feels like you have to. You got to parties with Val, you spend summer days at the pool with your friends as you planned. It may not be all the friends that you had anticipated being with but it’s something. You feel like with each activity you do you’re adding another band-aid to your heart hoping that this time maybe it’ll stay together. There are times, like at the community pool, when you sit with your friends, and you don’t really feel there. It feels like you’re playing a part and you’ve never been a good actress, so you’re still surprised when everyone just believes it.

Time and life keep moving forward and you wish it felt like you were too, but you still feel stuck. Your parents think that time won’t start moving until you’re away at college, and your friends believe that you need to start dating someone new to feel like you’ve moved on. You don’t think any of them are right but again you’re still stuck wondering what the right move is and how it’s supposed to feel.

What you do manage is to only catch glimpses of Steve for the rest of the summer. You see him at the movies dropping the party off, and you catch him one day leaving Family Video when he’s stayed too late. There’s another day at the grocery store, where you find yourself hiding behind a display stand to avoid the awkward run-in. You see him but you don’t think he ever sees you. You’re not sure if that’s exactly what you want, but if it is then why does it still also ache? A week before you leave you seek Steve out. You spend the morning giving yourself a pep talk, you take the time to perfect your outfit and ensure that you look better than you feel. This encounter is in your control, and you want to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.

You march into Family Video. You’ve been waiting for Robin to leave for her break and for a lull in customers to happen. When all the stars align you take a deep breath, shake out the nerves and move forward with purpose. You have a week left in Hawkins and all your teen magazines have told you that if you want to start college off right you need closure.

The bell above the door rings out in a way that feels louder than you remember. You don’t let it stop you though, you move forward and watch with some satisfaction as Steve’s head pops up and surprise washes over his face. Good, you think to yourself, finally, he knows what it’s like to be ambushed. You’ve planned out what you want to say so once you’re at the counter you speak before Steve can completely derail you.

“Harrington,” the last name comes out a lot calmer than you thought it would, you feel confident. “I leave for school next week…”

“Next week?” Steve interrupts, he looks like he has more to say but you send a glare his way which is enough to have him holding back words. If you paused long enough to just stare at him, you might wonder if he's disappointed, but you don't let the silence linger long enough to notice.

“As I was saying, I leave next week for school, and you owe me some type of closure or explanation for what happened. I’ll be at the diner tomorrow night, 7 pm and I expect you to show up.” You’re proud of yourself, your voice has an edge to it that leaves no room for disagreement.

Steve just says your name and he says it in the same soft way he did when you first started dating. You feel ruffled and some of that confidence feels like it’s being washed down a drain somewhere. “No,” you interrupt him. You can feel the tension in your forehead, you know your brows are furrowed and the frown on your face is reflecting your real emotions instead of some mask you’ve been wearing.

“You just dumped me, out of the blue and you gave me no explanation. I’m leaving next week, and you owe me this. You don’t get to dump me, say that you don’t care for me, and then leave groceries on my doorstep, Steve.” Something in your words must hit a soft spot that you know Steve still has inside of him. Even if his feelings for you are long gone, Steve has always been gooey and soft like caramel on the inside.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.” You stare at him a moment longer, trying to figure out if you’re getting an honest response. Once you’re sure you are you nod and turn to leave. When you were dating you never liked saying goodbye to Steve, it was always a see you soon. Now when you leave there’s no goodbye, but it’s more because you don’t want to waste another word on him. Not when you need to prepare for tomorrow.

______________________________________________________________

The next night finds you showing up at the diner first. The waitress recognizes you and tells you it’s been a while since she’s seen you. You don’t have the heart to tell her the reason why, you just smile and walk to the booth that used to belong to Steve and you.

You don’t feel as prepared for your conversation tonight as you would like, but you do feel less fragile. Somewhere between yesterday and today, you’ve managed to slide into the anger stage of your grief. There are times when you’re not sure if you’re going to just hit Steve as soon as you hit him, or worse. Worse is that small intrusive thought that you have about kissing him one last time. It’s weird because you’re so angry, the angriest you think you’ve ever been before. You feel like a pot that was left on a burner too long, just boiling over the edge and sizzling when you hit the stove eye.

And yet, behind all that anger there’s still the part of you that loves Steve. That piece of you can’t even remember the last time you kissed. You have fuzzy memories of when it might have happened. Maybe a goodbye kiss as he dropped you off at home, something that happened underneath his comforter as you both tried to hide away from the world a little longer. Either of those or something more is possible. It’s just... how were you supposed to know you needed to remember it? You think that maybe this time if you knew it was the last, you’d feel more prepared this time. Maybe it’ll help you feel better.

You slide the salt shaker between your hands, watching as it glides over the table as smooth as butter. Another glance at the clock tells you that Steve is late, Steve who was never late to anything that had to do with you before. The heat starts to turn up, and you feel more and more like that roaring boil of the pot. Twenty minutes after the hour he was supposed to be there the bell chimes above the door.

You don’t give in to the urge to look, you watch the salt continue to glide over the table. You know already it’s Steve because that same waitress is telling him that his girlfriend is at the regular booth. Steve doesn’t even correct her, at least not that you can hear. Steve slides into his seat as easily as the salt continued to glide on the table. All the anger you felt feels like it whooshes out of you. You go from feeling like a boiling pot to a balloon that was blown up and then let go before the air could be sealed inside.

As you sit across from him, the silence stretching on like the miles on an interstate you find yourself spiraling. People, mostly your friends and parents, have implied that it was childish of you to assume that your relationship with Steve would be anything long-term. And maybe you were, maybe somewhere in it all you got swept up in teenage fantasies. Sitting across from him though reminds you how it happened. For all the pain he’s caused, Steve Harrington is still the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen.

The people of Hawkins can gather and label you as simple-minded for all you care. Slap a label on you and shelve you in the town library with all the other romance novels, you don’t care. Because for all that they say you saw yourself creating a future with this man in front of you. Sure, maybe you romanticized it all, but God… you would have married Steve if he had given you a chance.

It’s that thought that spurs you back into the anger portion of The Aftermath. Because you didn’t build your relationship up by yourself. Steve was there too, he’s the one that layered the cement for your foundation. Steve with his endless flirting, his soft compliments, his whispered promises of forever. And even at the end, Steve left you with no explanation for this exit he took. And you can’t start your journey until he finally tells you why.

“You never really gave me a why for what happened at the end. I hate that it’s been months and I can’t let go of you, and maybe I’m just oversharing here, maybe I cared more, but I have to know. Steve, what the hell happened to us?” You’re surprised how quickly the words come out, but you’re pleased that they sound so tough. If Steve is surprised that you had to break the silence, he doesn’t show it.

“We’re young, this wasn’t going to be forever.” Steve’s voice isn’t loud, but it feels like it echoes in the diner. You want to sink into the vinyl of the booth, but you know you can’t.

“See, you say that but,” you take a breath to collect yourself to figure out how you say this all. “We talked about plans, Steve.” You look up, it’s easier to stare into the fluorescents than into Steve’s eyes. Your nerves make themselves known as you feel your fingers picking at the dry skin around your nails.

“Maybe somewhere along the way, I was looking farther into the future than you were. And if I was then I guess that’s on me. But I didn’t even know forever was an option until you gave me the words to use.” You shake your head like it’ll knock away your disbelief. Your gaze drifts from the lights to your hands gathered on the top of the table now.

“There was that time,” You lay your hands flat on the table hoping the action will stop the nerves from expanding. “We had only been together for like 4 months, and it was that really rainy day?” It’s a question, a quick uptake that doesn’t need an answer. You finally look to Steve again, waiting for some recognition to spark in his mind before you bulldoze on.

“We stayed in your bed for hours, wrapped up in one another. It was the laziest and softest day we had since we started dating. And there was that moment, and you told me that you wanted pause time.” A grimace of a smile forms, and it’s a bitter laugh that accompanies it. “You wanted to stay in that moment forever, do you remember that?”

Steve, who has been so emotionless through your every moment since you broke up, seems to finally crack. You watch emotions slide out of him as you wait for a response.

“I remember.” It’s a whisper, a barely audible acknowledgment of your past. If words could hold weight though, if they could carry more than a sound, you think those two would weigh a ton. They sound heavy at least, and for once you’re happy you don’t have to offer to carry them for Steve.

“So, when did that change?” You press on, encouraged by his response.

“I wish I could tell you. I wish there was a day or a time if that would help you. It was slow, and then it was just there and so I ended it.” Steve’s response is a rush of words, and his gaze isn’t even on you. It all collides together like a car crash. And just like a car crash once the collision hits, you can’t look away from it. It feels like a tragedy, and you know you shouldn’t stare, but human nature is human nature, and you can’t change that. Maybe there’s more to say after his confession but instead, Steve leaves without saying goodbye. His departure is quick and you calling his name is the only thing that follows him.

You stay stuck in that booth for a while, Steve’s words rolling around in your head like a tumbleweed. This was supposed to be closure, but it doesn’t feel like anything has been closed. You feel like you’re trying to piece a puzzle together but some of the pieces are still missing. Steve is the only one that has them but he’s refusing to let you see them, so you don’t even know what you’re trying to put together.

A small nagging part of you feels like there’s still more to this. Like something bigger is at play. But if Steve isn’t willing to share with the class despite all your opportunities for him to do so you’re at a loss. You have to, at a certain point, accept the fact that this is an unknown portion that you’ll never get answered. You hate that, hate how bitter it tastes, but you have no other choice than to find a way to work towards it. Because if nothing else, this night has shown that you can’t keep this candle burning when someone is actively blowing it out. It’s time to snuff the flame out yourself. You want to hope that maybe it’ll be easier once there’s some distance between Steve and yourself. Maybe if you’re no longer hiding from him at the grocery store that door that feels like it’s still wide open will start to close and you can move on.

______________________________________________________________

The day before you leave feels like a round of goodbyes. You hadn’t told anyone besides Steve that you’d be leaving early. Your friends are surprised, and you smile and tell them you’re just excited. Steve had always been your secret keeper, the only one that knew the fear you had around going to college. So, you know your lie will go over smoothly with your friends, and just like you’ve been doing for the remainder of the summer your mask of ‘I’m fine’ will help sell the story more.

It's the kids and Robin that you feel the most torn on, the ones that you struggle with when it comes to a goodbye. The breakup fractured a lot of things in your life, and it feels like maybe you lost them all somewhere this summer. They were never really yours though, so how you could have lost them you’re not sure. In the end, you solidify your resolve and even if it means nothing to them it does mean something to you. You’ve already worked your last shift, and yet you sit in the shared parking lot of your former work and the only place you’re guaranteed to find everyone you need all at once. Since the mall is long gone, this is the best place to be on a hot summer day. Unless you want to share the pool water with the rest of the Hawkins. You wait, you let Steve leave for his lunch, and you take that as your moment.

There’s no speech planned, nothing too major in your goodbye. Robin’s surprised face is what greets you when she looks towards the bell ringing. A soft exclamation of surprise escapes her and she looks confused. “I don’t want to waste your time,” you find yourself telling her. This is the quietest you’ve ever seen Robin.

“I just wanted to say goodbye. I know you’re his friend, and we haven’t really talked since… Well, you know when, but sometimes you felt like my friend too and so I just wanted to say goodbye before I left and that I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you before this.”

All your words sound so unsure, and you feel like you should be phrasing questions instead of just statements.

Silence hangs over the store, and you feel like if you don’t leave it’s just going to grow more awkward. “Okay, well then.” You mumble to yourself, and you force a smile and a wave before you turn to go. You make it to the door, it’s open and you are half in the heat and half in the air conditioning when Robin finally speaks.

“I’m sorry,” it’s not what you expect, and you throw a glance over your shoulder. Her face reflects the apology she’s given you. “We were friends, it’s just-” You shake your head and interrupt.

“It’s okay, Robin. He was your friend first, I’m glad that he had you and the kids.” You smile, and it feels real this time. “Maybe when I get back for winter break, we could be friends again?”

“I’d like that.” Robin matches your smile, and her nod is enthusiastic. You wave one last time and head fully out into the heat, you’ve got one more stop right next door and then your goodbye tour of Hawkins will be over.

The kids are right where you expect them. Tangled together around one of the games, with Max behind the controls. You wait until the losing screen comes on before addressing them. Your goodbye with the kids is just as short as your one with Robin. “You know I’m kind of gonna miss watching you all hold these games hostage,” Your tone is cheerful, not at all scared like you feel inside. The kids are quick to turn around and it’s Will that matches your tone when he calls your name. Will has always been the kindest of the bunch, and he’s quick to hug your side while everyone else smiles and says hello.

Max is the one to break the greetings, always the most impulsive of the group. “What are you doing here, do you work today?”

“Uh no, actually I came here looking for you guys.” You feel like you stumble over your words, especially as Mike gives you the most suspicious look you’ve ever seen him throw your way. He’s always hard to please, but you feel like maybe you shouldn’t have added him to the goodbye tour after all.

“I just wanted to say goodbye, I know we haven’t talked this summer but still.” You find yourself shrugging as you finish talking.

“You’re leaving already?” It’s Dustin this time, and you find yourself surprised. He hasn’t talked to you since the breakup, and you assumed that would carry over to this conversation. His tone sounds disappointed, and you find yourself feeling guilty for a reason you can’t name.

“I leave tomorrow,” there’s a chorus of groans and refusals that leave the kids. Something like regret swells up because sure these were Steve’s kids first, but they were kinda yours too. You knew them before Steve and had a whole weird dynamic with them before you even knew Steve worked next door. A part of you feels like you messed up this summer by not making more of an effort with them.

“I’m sorry about this summer,” the expressions they turn your way feel like they know too much for kids who are too young to be wrapped up in your love life drama. “We’re sorry too,” Lucas tells you. “You have nothing to apologize for okay,” you look at each one of them, the look on your face leaves no room for argument. It’s always worked with the group.

“Maybe when I get home for winter break, we could all do something together?” You offer them the same olive branch that was extended to Robin. Everyone, Mike included you’re happy to note, nods their head. You find yourself ruffling Will’s hair, he’s still the closest to you. “It’s a plan,” you tell them. “I’ll let you get back to the game, make sure you keep that top spot!” Max tells you not to worry about it, a smirk already forming on her face. You give them all one last smile and make your way out of the building.

You think you’re done, and you feel as at peace as you think you can manage under the circumstances of it all. You unlock the door of your car, plans already in mind for what is left to pack up for the trip tomorrow when someone is calling out your name. You look up and find Dustin running towards you. You meet him part of the way, and he’s throwing his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. There’s a huff of surprise that forces its way out upon the impact, but you don’t hesitate as you return the hug.

His voice is muffled, and you rub soothing circles on his back. “Dustin, I can’t understand you.” You keep your voice soft like you’re talking to a startled animal. It’s just a moment before he pulls back, and you’re met with a teary face. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you this summer,” Dustin’s words are rushed and come out as almost one sound. You find yourself shushing him and pulling him in for another hug. “You’re all good, it’s okay.”

You give him a minute to just feel his big feelings before you push him back. Your hands rest on his shoulders and you find you don’t have to bend down too far to meet his gaze. You wonder when he started getting so tall and remind yourself it was probably sometime this summer.

“Dustin, I’m not mad or upset or anything okay?” You wait for him to nod along to what you’re saying. “I’m sorry you got caught up in all this,” there’s enough stress on sorry that you think it could take off like a jet with the force you’re pushing it out. “Steve and I were the adults, you shouldn’t have been caught up in the middle, okay?”

Dustin looks like he’s going to argue, “No arguments! This was between us, and we should have made that clear.” Dustin stares at you for what feels like a minute before he nods.

“I’m gonna miss you,” is what Dustin tells you next. “Keith is never gonna be as cool as you. Whose going kick all the older kids off the games for me?” You laugh, happy to see him joking with you now.

“I’m going to miss you too, kid.” You give his shoulders a squeeze, “I’m going to give you a secret, use it responsibly, okay?” Dustin gives you an excited look and nods his head quickly, “I promise,” he says.

“If Keith gives you any trouble, just tell him that you know about Lucy.” Dustin has questions you can tell. “Keith won’t ask you to tell him, he’ll be too embarrassed. If he asks how you know, then you just tell him I told you. He’ll do whatever you want.”

There’s a part of you that feels like maybe you’ve given him too much power, but Dustin’s always been a smart kid and Keith has always been a dick to him, so you don’t feel too much remorse. Someone should be benefiting from the information anyway, and Dustin feels like the right one out of the party to hold on to the information.

“With great power comes great responsibility,” You quote to him, it’s a quip he used to tell Steve all the time before you started dating. Something from a comic book if you remember correctly.

Dustin’s smile is blinding, “You were always too cool for him you know, it’s his loss.” You smile and hope it doesn’t come off as sad as it feels. “Thanks, Dustin.”

You ruffle his hair, just like you had done to Will. Dustin bats at your hands and you push him toward the arcade, “Go spend time with your friends. I’ll see you in December.”

Dustin starts to go but turns back just as quickly. “You promise?” The happiness that had been there before has been replaced with worry again. “I pinky promise,” you hold out your pinky to show him you’re serious. Dustin comes back just to seal the promise and then waves goodbye again returning to the arcade.

The next morning, when every spare inch of space in your car is covered in your belongings, you finally feel like you could actually leave this place feeling okay. Things are not at all the way you thought they would be when the summer first started. You also still feel a weird sort of dread about attending college, but it feels like you could conquer it. If you could do this, this weird limbo break-up, then you think college can’t be that bad.

Your parents aren’t going with you. Despite their excitement and all the ways they’ve pushed you into this decision, they have both told you they feel you have to do this alone. Everything is set up for you, your dad has given you a paper with your new address on it and a credit card for emergencies. You know in both their eyes they’ve done their job as your parents. They’ve paved the way for success and now it’s your responsibility to make them proud.

It feels fitting that you leave Hawkins the same way you started the summer, all alone. You tell yourself that this is what you need. You tell yourself a lot of things as you make your way to the town line. You try not to look in the rearview mirror, too afraid that you’ll see everything you’re leaving behind and change your mind. You remind yourself it’s a few months, and that you can do this. You just hope that you aren’t lying to yourself. You may not feel happy, but you also don’t feel completely numb either. Maybe that’s the right type of progress though.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #She's back at it again with another sad fic #but no one dies this time so progress #berrystiles writes #rwylm

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Larissa Weems gets pregnant by Y/N part 4

Okay, took me way too long to get this out lol. Anyway, here’s where we discover who Y/N’s parents really are! Let’s get into it!

“Mom? … Dad?” You ask in disbelief.

Larissa’s head immediately snaps to you, her eyes wide. “Wait… What?!” She gasps. These people can’t possibly be your… Parents.

Morticia and Gomez Addams?

No. Preposterous.

Larissa wants to ask you to explain, but you’re at a loss for words. She can tell you’re completely stunned.

Morticia puts her hands to her mouth in shock. She hasn’t seen you in so long. Her first baby… Her eyes well up with tears. “Cara mia…” She sobs quietly, so grateful to see you.

You’ve really missed her and go over to give her a hug.

Morticia holds you close and kisses your forehead. She pulls your face back a bit so she can look at you closely. “So grown up,” She marvels, both in awe and sadness. This… Isn’t the way your life was supposed to be. Separated from your family like this…

You and Gomez have a… Very strained relationship. And that’s being generous.

Shortly after all of the shit that went down with Garrett Gates, Morticia discovered she was pregnant with you. She was terrified, of course. Being a teen mom is far from an easy task. However, she was also thrilled. She and the love of her life were about to have their own little baby.

Gomez was… Less than enthused, though. The last thing he wanted at his age was to be a dad. After you were born, he began to develop a deep resentment towards you. It was obvious in the way he spoke to you and interacted with you. He was gruff when you asked him questions and was often sarcastic, making you question just about everything you did.

With Wednesday and Pugsley, Gomez is a very different and doting father. He’s matured in that respect. But, he never really got over what he thought you “Did” to him. In his eyes, you robbed him of his youth.

Your relationship only got worse and worse as you got older. He began to yell at you more. He threw things at you. You always felt like you were walking on eggshells around him.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You knew your mother, sister, and brother loved you, but… You had to get out of that damn house. You decided to leave the same day you turned eighteen.

Morticia sobbed and begged you not to go. She felt so guilty.

It was heartbreaking seeing your mom so upset. But your mind was already made up. Your first order of business after leaving the house was to change your last name. You also never let your family know your whereabouts. You knew Morticia would just come find you and bring you home otherwise. But, you did try to call and facetime her when you could.

You got a job to support yourself and worked your ass off to get scholarships so you could go to school.

While Morticia is endlessly proud of what you have accomplished all on your own, it hurts her to know that you had to suffer partly because of her actions.

She wouldn’t leave her husband. She just… Couldn’t. She loves Gomez so much. She kept thinking that things would change over time, but they didn’t. Morticia chose him over you. As much as it makes her want to be sick… It’s true. She’s your mother. Her number one goal should have been to keep her child safe, loved, and protected… And she failed.

Unaware of the self-hatred coursing through your mother’s very being, you offer her a warm smile before you walk back over to be with Larissa.

Larissa looks at you and smiles softly, trying to convey that she will help you through whatever’s going on

But, before anybody can say anything, Pugsley slips past Gomez, who is stubbornly refusing to look at you.

“Y/N!” Pugsley shouts, running over to you and wrapping you in a hug.

You laugh breathlessly as your little brother all but knocks you over. You hold him tightly and pat his back. “What’s up, killer?” You ask.

Pugsley pulls back and grins up at you. “Not much, I guess. Just happy to see you,” He says.

You smile and ruffle his hair. “It’s great to see you too, Pugsley.”

Surprisingly, Wednesday also approaches you, albeit much slower and calmer than Pugsley did. Her face is just as solemn as ever, but she wordlessly reaches out and gives you a quick hug as well.

Wednesday has a special place in her frigid heart just for you. She was devastated when you had moved out. You were her best friend. She could tell you anything and you always gave her the best advice. She knows you left because Gomez was so hard on you, but she selfishly wishes that you had stayed, just so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

Before your sister can pull away, you tilt her chin up so you can look at her better. “Hey, short stuff,” You grin.

Wednesday damn near smiles for a second at the old nickname you just used for her.

Ugh. Too many emotions.

She silently scurries back over to Gomez and Morticia, head down and hands clasped.

Pugsley reluctantly follows suit, catching the stern look Gomez is shooting him.

The room is silent and Larissa clears her throat, rather uncomfortable. “Why don’t we all take a seat, hmm?” She suggests.

Everyone agrees and you sit right next to your girlfriend. You’re not moving an inch from her side. She’s the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

Larissa’s hand finds yours and you take a deep breath. As long as she’s here, you’ll be fine… You hope.

Morticia has taken notice of how… Close you seem to be with Larissa. However, now is certainly not the time to question it. She’ll… Just put a pin in that for later.

Larissa takes a look at Wednesday’s file on her desk and desperately tries to steer the conversation onto a less tense path. “Now, I see that Wednesday will be transferring to Nevermore in a few days-”

“Why are you here?” Gomez suddenly interrupts.

Everyone’s eyes whip to him.

The room is dead quiet once again.

Gomez is staring right at you with the same hatred you’ve come to expect from him. It makes you feel like a defenseless little kid again.

“Gomez,” Morticia warns.

You feel Larissa’s hand tighten around yours. It calms you. You take a deep breath before answering. “I teach here,” You say simply, meeting his glare with a stony one of your own.

Morticia gasps at this. “Oh, Y/N, how wonderful!” She gushes. Maybe… She can come see you now. And… You, Wednesday, and Pugsley can spend some time together again.

Gomez, on the other hand, groans and rolls his eyes. “Great…” He says under his breath, clearly annoyed.

As much as you wish you didn’t care, Gomez’s reaction cuts you deep. Why does your own father hate you so fucking much?

Larissa looks at the pain on your face. She can’t stand it. You are such a wonderful person. You don’t deserve to hurt like this. “Y/N? Why don’t you take Pugsley for a tour of the grounds while we talk about Wednesday’s enrollment? There’s a lot to see,” She offers, trying to get you out of this toxic environment… For a moment, at least.

You and Pugsley’s eyes both brighten.

“Yeah, Y/N! Let’s go!” He cheers.

You chuckle at your brother and nod. “Alright, let’s go, bud.”

You give Larissa a grateful smile. She always knows how to make everything better.

As you go to stand up, Larissa has to stop herself from leaning in to give you a kiss. The last thing you need right now is for your family to know that you two are together… Much less that she’s having your baby.

It’s like a fucking soap opera.

But… Something finally hits Larissa. Like a ton of bricks.

She’s… Going to give birth to Morticia and Gomez Addams’… Grandchild in just a few months.

Talk about an awkward class reunion…

Note: Gomez is a total dick in this one. I mean, I love him as a character, but I needed a villain 😭 Let me know what you thought! :3

Masterlist

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #netflix wednesday #morticia addams #gomez addams #pugsley addams

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aemonds-fire · 6 days

Text

The Sapphire Spell Ghost Aemond x Female Reader Part Seven - Swept Away

Can a spell cast by Alys long ago bring Aemond Targaryen back to life centuries later in Westeros? When the remains of the Kinslayer are found and put on display in a Cabinet of Curiosities, the ghost of Aemond discovers the proprietor’s beautiful daughter is the only person who can see or hear him.

Dark Ghost Aemond x Female / Slow Build / Dark Romance

Word Count: 4575

Chapter Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Questionable Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Profanity

The Sapphire Spell Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

You did not think it possible for one to experience so many emotions and so much upheaval in such a short time. Just over a week has upended your life, leading you from painful heartbreak to, well, you're not sure where.

It has been three remarkable days since you helped a weakened Aemond into your parlor. Three whirlwind days of seeing his strength quickly return and an insatiable curiosity about his new world take hold. His captivating presence sweeps aside your sadness, but Aemond could also sweep you away, making it easy to lose yourself in him.

The two of you have sat together as you introduce him to opera on the cylinder phonograph. You watched him go through your library, already taking a stack of books back to his room to begin reading. He also stood quite patiently as you took his measurements and pinned your father’s shirts and trousers to send off to the tailor, ordering clothes that would fit him properly.

But with a glance in your direction, he can make you feel like there are butterflies inside of you during these innocent interactions. You find yourself wishing to be in his masculine embrace again, not to cry in sorrow, but to indulge your craving for his touch.

Those feelings could tempt you to cast aside your inhibitions and society’s expectations regarding a lady’s conduct. But there is something else, something you can't put your finger on—a gnawing intuition that, by helping him, you have irrevocably changed the course of your life.

While his behavior has been nothing but gentlemanly, there is an unsettling aspect to him. You’ve glimpsed flashes of a turbulent intensity simmering beneath a composed exterior. However, at the moment, your main cause of worry is his complete dismissal of the practical problems his existence poses for you.

Over breakfast, you have your first real disagreement about his desire to explore the city. During your long conversations with him, you tried to describe all of the activities to be found in this new Kings Landing. You understand his desire to experience all of the things the city has to offer; this is a perfectly natural request, especially for him.

“Aemond, mourning in today’s society is a very strict custom. Ladies are expected to refrain from socializing and frivolous pursuits for an extended period of time,” you try to explain to him. “To be seen publicly in the company of an unknown man is scandalous enough; to do so while in mourning will destroy my reputation."

“To be expected to barely even leave your home is absurd,” he huffs in annoyance.

You continue; your increasing stress is causing you to ramble. “When the servants return, I have no idea how I am to explain your presence here.”

Simply shrugging his shoulders, he replies, “They are servants and need no explanation. You are the lady of the house, and I am your guest. That is all.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel a headache coming on. “That may have worked for a royal prince, but it will not work for me. An unmarried man living with an unmarried woman…” You can't even finish the sentence; you just shake your head in growing distress.

Sighing, Aemond extends his long arm across the table, taking hold of your hand. "You are worrying too much," he says, taking on a confident tone that you find calming. While his thumb caresses the back of your hand, he goes on. “You need to remember that you are not alone. I am here with you. I will not allow anyone to show you any disrespect.”

When you open your mouth to speak, he gently cuts you off. “Do you really not wish to go out, or is it because you have been told you cannot go out?”

Your smile at that question gives him his answer. “Whenever Aegon or I wished to go into the city, we would disguise ourselves in peasant clothes. We shall simply do something similar."

You can only shake your head at his sly smile, knowing that you cannot refuse him.

His personality is powerful and alluring to you; he makes you feel that if he says he will make everything alright, he will.

After quickly clearing the table, you leave to go to your room to find something to wear. As you leave, you mutter to yourself, "You're going to ruin me." You miss the smirk that comes over his face as he follows behind you.

You choose an older, dark-colored dress that is a bit worn and a little out of style, along with a veiled hat, hoping to look less affluent than you are. Since Aemond’s new clothes arrived the day before, you paired some items with a few of your father’s older and worn garments, but with his new black leather eye patch, he still cuts a striking figure.

Aemond's hair is simply tied back. He already made it clear that he doesn’t care if men’s hairstyles are shorter; his hair will not be cut for any reason. As you are preparing to leave the house, you learn that he does not like hats and has no intention of wearing one. Trying to explain to him that no one, male or female, goes out without a hat does not sway him at all. Furthermore, you learn that he has "borrowed" a dagger from the collection that once belonged to a Braavosi sealord.

“I will not take you out into the city without a weapon to defend us if needed,” he argues as you give him an exasperated look. “Hmm…, fine, I will wear the hat, but I keep the dagger,” he obstinately huffs, his scowl and defiant posture making it clear the weapon is not negotiable.

Despite your misgivings, you cannot help but delight in Aemond’s joyful moments. Kings Landing has changed in many ways, but in some ways it has not. Some of the streets still have names that he recognizes.

A walk in the park lets him reacquaint himself with the feel of the sun on his face. The cooling breeze carries the scents of grass and flowers in the air, rustling the leaves on the trees. The sight and sounds of people strolling past and engaging in various activities capture his attention.

The two of you wander the city, with you following his lead, occasionally pausing when something stirs memories for him. You can feel the emotions swirling within him as he looks at the remaining ruins of the Red Keep and the hill where the Dragonpit once stood. At times, Aemond does not say much, and you let him sort out his feelings without interference, quietly offering comfort with a gentle touch on his arm or holding your hand.

At one point, he leads you up a walkway near the old Iron Gate to the top of the wall surrounding the city. The two of you stay silent for a few moments while taking in the view of Blackwater Bay, but Aemond mostly stares off into the distance.

“Vhagar was much too large for the Dragonpit. She used to sleep on the beach over there,” he tells you quietly, pointing to a large stretch of sand.

You have learned that he is good at masking his emotions, rarely letting on what he truly feels, but you can hear the wistfulness in his voice.

“I’m sure you miss her. She must have been quite a sight to behold.”

That gets a bit of a smile from him. “Yes, she was.”

“Drogon was the last dragon anyone ever saw. No one knows where he went or what happened to him.,” you say, turning to look at him. "I can't imagine what it must have been like to see dragons flying in the sky over the city."

“It was an incredible sight, though one I took for granted then.” He turns to you, giving you a curious look, and asks, "Have you ever dreamed of flying on the back of a dragon?"

Laughing, you respond, “Perhaps as a child, but I’m sure I would be utterly terrified at the sight of a dragon now. Flying on one, no, I don’t think I would.”

Getting a rare grin from him, he disagrees. “Hmm, I think you would love it once you got past your fear.”

Later, you're on the Street of Looms, where he pulls you into a leather goods shop. You see him breathe deeply, taking in a fond and familiar smell. There is a long, dark leather coat that makes his eye light up. You end up purchasing it along with boots and several other items for him, giving the proprietor your address for delivery.

After making your way to the Street of Flour, you two rest with a quiet meal in one of the many establishments to choose from. After the sun sets and the evening crowds begin to get more lively, you both take in an outdoor performance that you both find highly entertaining.

Eventually, pleading that you can walk no more, you find a carriage to take you back home. During the ride, with the street lights casting fleeting shadows, Aemond leans over to you. “I want to thank you for today and for everything you have done for me.”

“You’re welcome" are the only words you can speak. Anything else you might have said catches in your throat at the impassioned look on his face, his eye burning your skin with the heat of his gaze. Feeling self-conscious, you try to look away, but his fingers on your chin prevent you from doing so. His lips barely brush against yours in the faintest hint of a kiss as the carriage begins to slow before coming to a halt in front of your home.

Once inside your quiet house, you both make yourselves more comfortable, with Aemond rolling up his shirt sleeves and unbuttoning his collar. With the feel of his lips on yours causing lingering sensations, you nervously turn on a lamp in the parlor, giving the room a faint glow. Anticipation for what may come next sets your mind and body aflutter.

Aemond strides to a table along the wall, opening a bottle and pouring two snifters of your father’s brandy. You take a seat on the couch as he hands you your glass, your fingertips brushing in the exchange.

Smiling as you notice his choice of drink, you remark, “I see you found the brandy.”

“Yes, this is very good. We did not have this centuries ago.” He remains on his feet with an almost heightened energy about him, despite the day’s activity.

“There is something I need to talk with you about," he says, looking at you with a serious expression on his chiseled features.

Eyeing him curiously while taking a sip of your brandy and remembering that it is much stronger than what you usually drink, you merely nod in encouragement.

“I do not plan to remain in Kings Landing for long,” he says firmly. “I need to go to Old Valyria.”

Your lips part in shock, and you almost stumble on your words. “Aemond, no one goes to Old Valyria. No one has ever come back from Old Valyria.”

Finally joining you on the couch, sitting so close that you can smell the orange and spices of the brandy on his breath, he responds without hesitation, “I can. I know things about Old Valyria that no one else does.”

Your mind spins in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen Old Valyria, when I would allow myself to drift for long periods of time,” he explains, growing more intense as he speaks. “The Doom destroyed much; there are only some ruins left, but the land has recovered. It is a beautiful place now.”

The mere thought of Aemond disappearing from your life is enough to cause your heart to sink, but the shock of his intention to travel to a place that is believed to be a dangerous and deserted wasteland is something you desperately want to talk him out of.

“Ameond, anyone who has gone there has never returned; they have vanished without a trace,” you remind him, unable to keep your growing distress out of your voice. “I cannot understand why you would want to go there.”

“I have to go there,” he insists. “The land is protected. Some people, descendents of Valyrians, have slowly returned, and they live there, hidden from the rest of the world.”

Your dismay at his unwavering certainty about a course of action that you feel is insanity has you desperately asking, “Even if there are people there, why do you have to go there?”

His eye almost burns you with the intensity of his stare, and the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile that has no humor in it. “I will restore not only House Targaryen but Old Valyria. I will rule a new Valyrian kingdom.” He pauses for a moment to allow his words to sink in before continuing, “I will rewrite my legacy. I will not be remembered as a Kinslayer, but as a true-born son with the blood of the dragon who built a kingdom from ruins.”

Stunned by his words, you cannot hide your disbelief. “You plan to go to Old Valyria and somehow take over and become a king?”

His face instantly hardens. “Do not doubt me,” he warns, his voice lowering.

Instantly, you know deep in your bones that he will never be dissuaded from the path he intends to take. The near madness you see in his eye is almost frightening, and the ferocity of his determination radiates from him. It dawns on you that everything he suffered—even death—did not quell his blatant desire for power. Above all else, he seeks to rule, and that chills your blood.

There are also other emotions that make you press your lips together to keep them from trembling. His leaving will feel like another loss for you, another empty space in your life, so soon after losing your father.

Suddenly, you need to be away from him. You feel like every emotion you possess is churning within you and threatening to overcome you. You take a deep breath, hoping you can speak without faltering. “I’m afraid the day has been more tiring than I expected. Please excuse me; I believe I shall retire for the night.” Without waiting for a response, you get up, going up the stairs as fast as your trembling legs can carry you. You only allow a tear to fall from your eyes once you've shut your bedroom door behind you.

As you lean against the door, you hear his footsteps on the stairs. The sounds grow louder as he comes down the hallway. You hope he continues past your door to his own room, but he does not. You feel the vibration along your back when he knocks firmly on the door.

“Please open the door. You didn’t let me finish.”

Wiping the tears from your face, you step away from the door. “It’s getting rather late. I think it would be best if we talked again tomorrow."

“No, we will talk about this now,” he stubbornly insists before opening the door himself and entering your bedroom.

Startled, you take a step back, your eyes flashing in surprise and anger at his intrusion into your room. “Aemond, I do not wish to discuss this further. If you choose this madness, then so be it. I cannot stop you.” Unable to deal with this now, you tiredly sigh, “Please leave,” as you try to turn away from him.

Before you can even take a step, his hand grips your arm, pulling you back. Towering over you, he insists, “You will listen to what I have to say.”

His grip on your arm is firm, but not hurtful. Biting your lip to hold your tongue, you decide to let him have his say without complaint. Looking up at him, you wait for him to continue, knowing that the hurt you feel must show in your eyes.

Unclenching his jaw, he takes a breath, his eye never wavering from yours. "I must go to Old Valyria; I will be their king. I want you to come with me and be my queen.”

Your shock leaves you speechless; your lips parted in astonishment. Your eyes search his features, realizing that he is completely serious. Before you can speak, your head is instinctively shaking in refusal. “No, I can’t. My life is here, with the museum. I can’t leave everything I have on some folly that I don’t believe is possible.”

Fearful that your words would anger him, you are surprised when your rejection only brings a smirk to his face. Suddenly, he holds you tightly in his arms. “It will be anything but folly when we rule a new Valyrian kingdom together,” he whispers in your ear. “It will take time, but I promise you that our children will be princes and princesses.

He rests his long fingers on the back of your neck, preventing you from pulling away as he kisses you, softly at first, and then with an unquenchable hunger that leaves you clinging to him. His insistent tongue, warm and wet, parts your trembling lips and deepens the kiss. He only breaks his torrid kisses momentarily to murmur more promises against your skin.

Overcome by sensations you've never felt before; you can only breathlessly gasp his name. You do not even know what you want. The part of you mesmerized by his Targaryen beauty and powerful presence yearns for this, despite a voice inside you warning against it and trying to remind you who he truly is.

With his lips scorching your skin and his hands pulling at fabric and tearing buttons, he overwhelms your misgivings and fears. A powerful arm around you, tightly gripping the curve of your hip, holds you to him. A strong hand is determined to caress and knead every inch of skin it can find, as well as expose more. Sharp teeth nip your flesh before soft, wet lips soothe it. And it is your own body that betrays you by refusing to offer any resistance.

It is only the press of his hardening length against your body that startles you, rousing a sudden fear at how quickly this has escalated. “Aemond…we shouldn’t,” is all you can breathlessly murmur before he silences you with another deep kiss, halting any resistance as he pushes his tongue past your lips, invading your mouth. He easily lifts you off your feet, carrying you to your bed and laying you down before covering your body with his own.

When his large hands start squeezing your bare breasts and teasing the stiffened peaks with little tugs and pinches, your skin feels aflame, forcing you to bite your lip in order to keep from moaning loudly. You watch when he dips his head to your breast, unable to look away as his pink tongue darts over your hardened nipple, lapping and flicking, before his lips latch onto it and he starts to suckle like a hungry babe. “I’m going to make you mine tonight,” he tells you, his soft voice thick with lust as his mouth moves to the other breast. The scorching, wet heat of his lips, as well as the slow swirling of his tongue around your pebbled peak, leave you dazed and whimpering.

Raising himself off the bed, he stands at the edge, a hungry gaze in his eye as he takes in your nearly naked form. He pulls off his eye patch, tossing it aside, showing you the bewitched sapphire. Confidently, he strips off his remaining clothes, and with one hand, he gives his hard length a lazy stroke.

The lustfulness he has awakened battles with how vulnerable you feel at the sight of his finely sculpted body, long limbs, and defined muscles. But it is your view of his long cock, with prominent veins and a glistening pink head, that lights a warmth between your legs. A paralyzing mix of thirst and fear leaves you helpless when he takes hold of your ankle. He runs his slender fingers up the length of your leg, undoing your garters to tug down your stockings before repeating the sensual movement on your other leg. He has long since cast aside your stays and petticoats, leaving you completely naked as he pulls off your silken chemise.

Your eyes go wide with shock when he kneels on the floor and pulls you closer, settling his face between your parted legs. With one hand firmly gripping your thigh, he murmurs "So pretty" against your skin between wet kisses. His fingers slide easily through your moistened cunt, with feather-light brushes over your bundle of nerves.

You lay with your eyes on the ceiling of your room, trying to process these new sensations he is eliciting between your legs. Your nails dig into your palms with each stroke of his long finger through your folds, as well as with each tease of your sensitive bud. He’s silent now, and somehow that only intensifies your awareness of every sensation. A sharp gasp breaks the silence in the room as he inserts a long digit inside you, swiftly followed by the heat of his tongue flicking your little pearl.

He alternates between licking and gently sucking on your little bud, using his mouth to tease and toy with it, causing your breathing to become more ragged. Your back arches off the bed when he begins pushing two fingers inside of your tight cunt, finding another intensely sensitive spot within you and keeping up a steady rhythm. It takes a moment for your muddled brain to understand that the wet squelching sounds you hear are from him pumping his fingers in and out of you, while his thumb now rubs the bundle of nerves. Little whimpers escape you as an unfamiliar tightening thrums deep inside you, causing you to bite your lip to keep from crying out.

“Cum for me, raqiarzītsos. Cum on my fingers.” (little darling)

His commanding tone makes you snap your eyes open, only to find him intently watching you lose yourself to a peak that feels like electricity flows through your veins and leaves you shaking with euphoria. You can barely make out the word “gevie” whispered against your skin as he leans over you, his lips leaving wet kisses as his mouth moves up your quivering body, pausing to suckle loudly at your breast, his tongue laving your stiff nipple. His large hands grab you under your arms, lifting you further back onto the bed before settling his slim hips between your legs. (beautiful)

He captures your mouth in a deep kiss that takes away your breath, his tongue twisting with your own, letting you taste yourself. You can feel his stiff member, long and thick, hot against your thigh. “It’s time to make you mine,” he breathes as he slides his cock through your wet folds. He hooks his arm under your knee, opening you wider for him as the tip of his shaft begins inching inside of you.

You’re gripping his arms tightly as a burning stretch increases as you take more of his painfully hard cock inside of you, ripping a sob and his name from your lips. You tug on a handful of his silvery hair when a sharp twinge of pain from a forceful thrust fills you with his entire length. Your innocence and his size make you fear you are being split apart, bringing tears to your eyes and causing you to cling to him tightly.

Aemond holds himself steady inside of you while brushing his lips against your cheek, softly whispering beautiful-sounding Valyrian words to you. Slowly, he withdraws almost all the way before easing his length back in. “The pain will fade quickly, I promise,” he murmurs.

You can feel the tautness of his muscles as he keeps a slow, easy pace, giving your body a chance to adjust to him. The pain does lessen, diminishing with each stroke and changing into something pleasurable. When you open your eyes, you hear a deep hum of satisfaction. You fix your gaze on his face.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises you as he gradually increases the strength of his thrusts, rocking his hips against you. As he pants against your neck, he exclaims, "So fucking tight, raqiarzos." More soft groans and hums fall from his mouth as he takes his own pleasure from your body.

With each snap of his hips, a silvery curtain falls around your face. His sapphire eye gleams, and his nose brushes yours. His scent, which includes hints of leather and musk, intoxicates you as he pushes your thighs up, allowing him to bury his cock deeper. This new angle allows him to bully the sweet spot inside you harder, making you moan out loud and rake your nails along the pale skin on his back. His fingers move between your bodies to find their way to your already stimulated bud, rapidly rubbing circles.

The coil of pleasure begins to build low in your belly again, causing you to cling to him tighter, wanting the feel of his weight on you. A quick gasp of his name is all you can utter as you bury your face in his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Your peak hits like a dam burst inside you, releasing waves of ecstasy along every nerve. Your body trembles and writhes beneath him, stifling a strangled scream as he continues to thrust forcefully into you.

“Ao issi ñuhon, ñuhus ābrazȳrys, ñuhus dāria." (You are mine, my wife, my queen.)

His words are more guttural grunts than speech, as your walls clench around his length. While still in the throes of your own peak, you faintly feel his cock twitching inside you. After a few erratic thrusts, he slams his cock as deep as he can go and stays there while he cums, grunting low and panting in the crook of your neck with his own release.

The world seems surreal as you lie underneath him, every sense heightened. The glistening sheen of sweat on his body, the soft hair on his chest and legs caressing your smooth skin, and the size of his palm splayed around your hip all leave a lasting impression in your mind. You shiver slightly when he rolls off you, taking his warmth with him. As he rises from his bed and approaches your washbasin, you observe faint blood streaks on his softened cock.

After gently cleaning you and them himself, Aemond pulls you under the covers with his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him, with faint brushes of his lips along your jaw, and softly murmuring in High Valyrian to you.

“Aemond,” you whisper when you finally find your voice, unsure of what you even want to say.

“Sleep now, raqiarzītsos. I have you, and everything will be alright,” he murmurs soothingly, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I will always take care of you.”

Exhaustion and his warmth soon overtake you, allowing you to drift off to sleep, but not before one last thought and a flicker of apprehension go through your mind. ‘What have I done?’

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