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caffeinewitchcraft · 4 months

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The Hero and Hope (Part 2/5)

(part 1) (part 3)

The next time you go hunting, the Bahrs go with you.

“It’s really fine,” you protest. It’s early enough in the morning that the air carries a bite. With any luck, they’ll think the redness in your cheeks comes from the chill rather than embarrassment. “I’m not even going far in. It’s Hera’s birthday coming up and she likes squirrel…”

“You’re going to catch a squirrel without a blade?” Mr. Bahr – Ivan – asks. He tightens the strap on Mrs. Bahr’s back, making sure the quiver of arrows is snug along her spine. He pats her shoulder when he finishes and beams at you. “Are you very fast?”

Yes, you are. You’ve noticed that you’re even faster lately as your 15th birthday marches closer and closer. You purse your lips. “I set traps.”

“Don’t mind him, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr -Marie - says. She fondly shoves Ivan off the porch of the orphanage so she can get down. “He’s always joking.”

“What sort of traps?” Ivan asks. He runs a critical eye over your coat and pack. “Will that be warm enough?”

You’re not sure if your coat is warm enough for the weather or not. Another rising power: you’re nearly impervious to the cold. You shrug. “I’ll be fine. And just simple snares and stuff.”

“We can’t wait to see,” Ivan declares. He gestures towards the road. “Lead the way.”

You bite your lip. It’s clear that they knew you were going hunting today by their garb. Both are in sturdy, worn leather with swords on their hips and bows along their backs. They probably heard from Director Sarah and came specifically to make sure you kept your promise not to hunt alone. But… “The other kids will be sorry they missed you.”

“We’ll see them when we return victorious with birthday squirrels,” Ivan says.

“What a sentence,” Marie says dryly.

You aren’t going to convince them to let you go alone. You silently lead the way towards the orchard. Or, rather, as silently as you can. Ivan talks the whole time, asking questions about the apple trees and pointing to ducks flying overhead. You answer the questions you know the answer to and hum whenever you don’t. You wish you knew more about the vegetation, but the most you can tell Ivan is whether or not something is poisonous.

“Those ones,” you say, nodding to the low, circular leaves Mr. Bahr is pointing to, “are tricky. The real ones taste kind of sweet. The other kind that looks like that makes your stomach cramp for three days straight.”

“How can you tell the difference?” Ivan asks.

You shrug. “You can’t. I just tell the younger kids to bring it to me before eating it. Usually, I trade it for something actually edible.”

Marie, trailing behind you both, makes a noise of interest. “Usually?”

You feel your ears go hot. “Sometimes I’ll try it for them just to see if they can eat it. I’ve had enough of the bad one that it doesn’t affect me so much.”

“You try it?” Marie’s voice is sharp. “Isla, there has to be a better way.”

“Not really,” you say. You scratch the back of your head and quicken your step. You’re almost to the tree line of the woods. “The kids like sweet things. If I didn’t give in occasionally, they’d try it themselves. At least this way they check in with me first.”

“I still don’t think—”

“Sounds like Marie and I’ll be bringing some sweets along with us next time,” Ivan interrupts cheerfully. He points past the last apple tree about a dozen feet ahead. “Looks like the path ends there?”

“There’s an animal track about ten feet into the woods,” you say. You’re uncomfortable with Marie’s reaction. You know it’s not smart to eat poisonous plants, but what else were you supposed to do? Your worst fear is that the kids will one day get hungry enough to eat them without caring about the pain. Your shoulders round. “We’ll need to be quiet once we’re there.”

“I’m the best at being quiet,” Ivan says. He elbows Marie. “Right, Marie?”

“Right,” Marie says. Her voice is still a little strained, but you can tell she’s trying to hide it. “That’s why I married you.”

“That’s a lie,” Ivan says. He stage-whispers to you, “She married me for my amazingly dashing good looks.”

Marie huffs a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. You’ve entered the forest.

You were worried on the way that you’d need to tell Ivan that he needs to be quiet in the forest. You needn’t have been concerned. Both adults are silent and walk with quiet steps, their dark eyes alert on their surroundings. They move through the undergrowth gracefully, their years of experience showing in every step. You try to copy Marie’s soft footfalls as best you can and are pleased when your steps get a little quieter.

The Bahrs watch as you pick places for your traps. Ivan silently points to one of your knots, eyebrow raised. Guessing what he’s asking, you undo the knot and then redo it slowly. He nods in satisfaction and then gestures for you to give him the rope. Curiously, you do. Ivan completes the same knot, fingers steady through each step. When he’s done, he presents it to you proudly as if to say, See? I did it!

It makes you do something you very rarely do in the woods. You smile.

After setting the traps you take the Bahrs to your favorite resting spot. The clearing lies just by the edge of the shallow part of the river. About a mile downstream the banks widen and the North River joins this one, making it a dangerous place of rapids. Here, however, the water moves slowly and is shallow enough to be warmed by the sun.

Finally, you speak. “Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two and then we can go check on them.”

“Is this where you found the horned rabbit?” Marie asks. You sit on a large, flat rock by the river, but she stays standing. Her eyes carefully scan the perimeter of the clearing.

“Not quite. That was near the hills.” You point. “Fifteen minutes that way.”

“That’s close,” Ivan says. He frowns, concerned. “Was that the first demon you’ve seen here?”

“No.” When the Bahrs turn to you in alarm, you shrug. “Not all the time, but demons come here. They’re usually not interested in me though.”

“But the horned rabbit was?” Marie asks.

Interested is an understatement. You’re not an idiot. You know that demons are dangerous. That’s why you usually avoid them when you spot them. Normally they’re content to let you pass by, but not the horned rabbit. It followed you nearly all the way back to the orchard before you realized you needed to do something before it attacked you. “Yeah.”

“What other types of demons do you see here?” Ivan asks. His voice is light, but he’s looking at you with a very serious expression. “Maybe howling bats?”

“I hear them sometimes,” you say, “but I don’t stick around after dark.” Ivan and Marie exchange dark looks. You fidget on the rock. “What?”

“This is protected land, Isla,” Marie says. She purses her lips. “No demons should be south of those hills.”

“What other types have you seen?” Ivan asks again. He comes to squat by you so he can look you in the eyes. “And when?”

“Just horned rabbits.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asks. She runs a hand over her hair, slicking back the fly aways. “Horned rabbits aren’t usually sighted alone.”

You hesitate. It’s true that the horned rabbits are the only demons you’ve seen, but… “There have been some signs lately, but I don’t know if they’re demons.”

Ivan’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“Wolves,” you say. Both Bahrs stiffen, hands going to their swords. You speak quickly. “But I’ve never seen them! They might be regular wolves. I found the tracks at the base of the hill, and some bones, but they were a week old probably.”

“We’ll need to ask the Lord to investigate,” Marie tells Ivan. She looks deeply unhappy. “The patrol doesn’t cover this far south.”

“An oversight,” Ivan says grimly. He reaches out absently and ruffles your hair. It startles you, but it feels nice. Ivan makes an effort to smile at you. “Good eyes, Isla. Is there anything else you’ve noticed changing in the forest lately? Even something not demon related?”

Something funny is happening in your chest. Good eyes, Isla. You wrack your brain for anything else. “I haven’t seen any other tracks or anything and there’s only been four or five horned rabbits this season.”

Marie makes a small noise in her throat. When you turn to look at her, she hides whatever expression she’d been making. “That’s a lot. Did you need to use your sharp stick on all of them?”

Ivan startles. “Sharp stick?”

You rub the back of you neck. “Just two.” You look up at the sky. You only had a sharp stick that day, but there are times when you’ve come out here with a knife. Knife days are for when you’re looking for bigger game. “I’ve been pretty lucky hunting lately, now that I think about it. There’s been more deer and regular rabbits south of the river.”

“What do you mean ‘lately?’”

“The past month.”

Ivan and Marie exchange another long look. Before you can ask them what’s wrong, Ivan turns to you with another smile.

“Say,” he says, “what do you think about trying to bag something bigger than a squirrel today? You ever fire a bow before?”

Your eyes widen. “No.”

“You can use mine,” Marie says, pulling it from her shoulder. She holds it out to you. “We’re nearly the same height. The draw may be a bit heavy for you—or not.”

Embarrassed by the shock in her voice, you release the string. “I’m, uh, stronger than I look.”

“Good,” Ivan says. “That’ll make it easier to actually catch something today.”

The next few hours are the most fun you’ve ever had in the woods. Marie and Ivan go over every part of the bow with you, explaining the weight of it, the flexibility, the length. Marie and Ivan carry several different types of arrows with different tips, all good for different types of shooting. They let you practice on a tree across the river and each time you’re closer to hitting the center of it, they compliment how fast you’re learning, how accurate your eye, how steady and consistent your draw.

By the time they let you hunt with it, you feel like you’re walking on clouds.

The feeling lasts even after you return to the orphanage, a deer slung over Marie’s shoulders and your hands full of squirrel. There’s a pleasant ache in your back and arms from practicing with the bow. You can’t stop smiling. Everything Ivan says is out of the blue and Marie’s tired responses make it all funny.

At one point you’re walking behind them, watching their shoulders brush when the path gets a little too narrow. They’re smiling at each other and talking softly and for a wild, wonderful, awful moment, you imagine that you can keep this. You aren’t sure what this is. Their attention and their companionship, their gentle guidance and the way they speak to you like you’re an adult?

After Hera’s birthday dinner, the Bahrs stay extra late to help clean up and to spend time with the younger kids. You are still feeling a sort of bone deep happiness you’ve never felt before. Everyone is full and sleepy-eyed from the amount of food you were able to put on the table. The kids gather around their slates in the common area, learning a new type of drawing game from Ivan and Marie.

Hera comes up to where you’re leaning on the doorway. Quietly, she slips her hand into yours. You squeeze it.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” she says quietly.

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy Birthday.”

She hums and watches the fun in the living room for a long moment. She’s eleven now, three years older than you were that Winter. She’s the second oldest in the orphanage and, for the first time, you wonder if she feels the same sort of responsibility as you.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Hera says.

You make a low questioning noise in your throat.

“The Bahrs will be good to you,” Hera says. She looks up at you evenly, a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. “You deserve that, Isla.”

Every muscle in your chest locks, chasing away the pleasant languidness you’d been feeling. “That’s not—they’re not—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hera says. She stands on tiptoe so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, hugging you like she did when she was five. She whispers in your ear, “But I would be happy if they did.”

She lets go of you before you can tell her she’s being ridiculous, skipping into the room to join the drawing game.

You feel out of sorts for the rest of the night.

-----------------------.

(part 1) (part 3)

Thanks for reading! The full story is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you'd like to support me, please consider checking out my page!

This month will be seeing two main things update on Patreon first: Dandelion (x) and my Cinderella story (masterpost coming soon!) updates for both coming later this week!

#my writing #the hero and hope #second person #multi part fic #short story #kind of #the total piece is 20k words

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randomshyperson · 11 months

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Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap. | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful. In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner.

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure."

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?"

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection."

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you.

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first.

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel.

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around.

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization.

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me."

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up."

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you."

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart."

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose." You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice."

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way.

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment.

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks.

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious.

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority.

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear."

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?"

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces.

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order:

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face.

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath.

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down.

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot.

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck.

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her.

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

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megalony · 8 months

Text

A Burden On You

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, based on an anon request. I hope you will all like it, any feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme

911 Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) has a chronic illness and begins to worry that she may be relying on Evan too much. When she has an accident at home, she's too nervous to tell him or ask for help.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Happy birthday," A soft grin lit up (Y/n)'s face and she held out the navy blue and silver striped bag in her hand towards Eddie.

She could feel Evan's arms curve around her waist and a shiver flooded down her spine when he tilted his head to the side and kissed her temple. His fingertips ran up and down her hips and his chest pressed down into her back and shoulders, keeping her pinned against his front.

They both watched Eddie spin on his heels and a glimmer of shock fluttered in his eyes while he formed a bright smile. He happily took the present and leaned to the left to place it down on the table before he reached out for them both. He was careful. He always was when he was around (Y/n), just like the rest of the team. Eddie wanted to hug her but he never knew if he might hurt her or cause her some discomfort.

(Y/n) looped her arms around his shoulders, grinning wider when she became wedged in between them both like they were sardines squashed into a tin.

"You made it. How are you?"

"Good, we're good. I've missed you all, and Chris." (Y/n) patted his shoulder before she sank back into Evan's chest and reached down to hold his wrists that were around her waist.

She hadn't seen anyone from the station in weeks and it always made (Y/n) feel bad when she didn't get to see them or have a catch up.

"He's missed you too."

(Y/n) didn't always like socialising. It wasn't easy to be around people whenever she was in the middle of a flare up. She had fibromyalgia. Chronic pains that affected her in hundreds of different ways; little pains that Evan would barely bat an eyelid at, crippled (Y/n) down in agony. Illnesses flared up her pains and made her feel faint. Cold weather sank into her bones and made her stiff muscles even worse. Headaches felt like hammers tapping away at her head until she was sure her skull was caved in.

When her condition flared, it worsened (Y/n)'s sleep and she had a lot of trouble sleeping. She couldn't usually stay asleep for too long which led her to be tired during the days and if she slept for too long, her muscles seized up and it made walking or bending or any general movement almost impossible.

She had been all ready and lined up to attend the station Christmas party until she has a fall. She had been dosed up on painkillers and on the day of the party, (Y/n) could barely walk. Her leg had shooting pains radiating from her hip to her foot and her leg had seized up for days.

"Where is he?" Evan glanced his eyes around the station while he rested his chin on top of (Y/n)'s head and began swaying them from side to side.

He wanted to see Chris but he couldn't spot him anywhere in the station so far.

They had all decided that since Hen and Bobby were on shift today, they would throw Eddie a big party here at the station. Then at least everyone could be here to celebrate and it was a relaxed atmosphere and there was much more space to party.

"Helping Bobby put the candles on the cake. Which reminds me, I've got a bone to pick with you." Eddie pointed his finger at Evan who was trying his best not to grin.

He squeezed (Y/n)'s hip lightly when she leaned her cheek against his neck. He didn't have to look down to know she was grinning because she knew exactly what Evan had done to wind Eddie up. He couldn't simply turn up to the party and give Eddie a present, Evan had to play some sort of trick on him or mess him about in some way. He had had a quiet word with Chris yesterday ready to wind Eddie up.

"Oh?"

"Thanks for telling him I've just turned forty- which I haven't and you know it. He's been running round telling everyone he can't fit enough candles on my cake."

Eddie hadn't been best pleased this morning when Chris woke him up to wish him a happy birthday and suddenly exclaimed that he was forty. It didn't take long for Eddie to work out where Chris had learned that from. But once they arrived here, Chris gave a handful of candles to Bobby and began telling people he didn't have enough candles for how old his dad was. Eddie wasn't near forty yet, he had a decade to go before he would be forty.

"You're welcome old man."

"Buck we're the same age." The smile slipped from Eddie's face as he planted his hands down on his hips and shook his head.

"I'll go grab us some drinks," Evan kept his voice quiet and hovered his lips over the shell of (Y/n)'s ear. He grinned, brushing his nose against her skin as his grin morphed into a smirk when he knew he had riled Eddie up. He let his lips wander down to (Y/n)'s cheek where he pressed another kiss before he unravelled himself from around her and moved towards the stairs.

"He's just trying to wind you up, don't listen to him." (Y/n) patted Eddie's shoulder before she left him to look through his presents that were steadily piling up on the table.

(Y/n) fluttered around the station floor for a little while and had a quick chat with Hen before she moved towards the stairs. She knew Chris would be up there somewhere and she wanted to see and talk to him. It had been two weeks since Chris had been round to stay with her and Evan and (Y/n) was starting to miss him. He was like their nephew, they were his main babysitters and he regarded them as his aunt and uncle.

It took a while to get herself up the stairs. It didn't matter that her pain was on a very good level today, she still felt stiff today and her legs were barely under her control.

Exercise was one of the main things that helped her condition.

And with Evan being hooked on his training and exercise to help with his job, it was something they did together. Evan would go on runs and do hard training in the morning, but when he wasn't at work, he would train in the afternoon with (Y/n) for a while. They went on a lot of walks as well.

(Y/n) needed to keep moving, if she sat or laid down for too long, her muscles would start to seize up and her pain scale would increase. She was usually on the go from the moment she got up until the moment she went to bed. It didn't matter how slow (Y/n) moved or how little she managed to get done in a day, she was always up and about.

Her eyes found Evan before they scouted round and found Chris. While Chris was trying to fit as many candles on the chocolate cake Bobby made as possible, Evan was stood over near the pool table close by the fire pole.

He had two drinks in hand and his hips were slouched back against the pool table that wasn't being used.

A smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips as she advanced towards him, she could draw Evan into a game of pool while Chris was busy in the kitchen. He loved a game and whenever he lost, especially to (Y/n), he would get fired up and they would keep going until he won at least one round. And (Y/n) was feeling good tonight, she was having a good day and felt able to try and beat Evan in a game or two.

She advanced towards him and tried to see who he was with. (Y/n) didn't recognise her. She was probably one of the new recruits, Evan said they'd had quite a few new recruits in and out of the station in the last week or so.

Evan tried to force himself to smile as he leaned his hips a little further back into the pool table until he was almost sitting on it.

This was the part of parties he didn't like; getting dragged into conversations with people he'd rather not talk to. And Evan was programmed to be kind and polite, it was in his nature so he didn't find it easy to walk away or find excuses to leave.

He didn't want to be talking to Lucy.

She wasn't someone Evan was very fond of, she was very full of herself and she didn't fit well with the team. She seemed to want to do things her own way and work on her own rather than work with them all as a team. And the last time they had all been out to a club after work, Lucy had tried to kiss him.

That night had been forgotten. Evan had politely declined and hurried away as fast as he could, and from then onwards, Evan did his best to avoid Lucy. They both tried to be polite and pretend it didn't happen but he didn't want to be around her when she always tried to get a bit too close to him and she didn't understand he didn't want to be around her like this.

"So, you've brought you're girlfriend this time?" Lucy took a long sip of her beer and leaned her right arm out on the balcony rail. The way she tilted her head to the side and smiled made Evan shiver uneasily.

"(Y/n) always comes with me to the station parties." Evan's lips quirked into a dazed, slightly confused smile.

Why was she so surprised? This was a party and families and partners were always invited to tag along. And this party was for Eddie. He was Evan's best friend and therefore he was close to (Y/n). Of course she would be here to see Eddie and celebrate with everyone.

"You didn't bring her to the Christmas party, did you?"

"No, she wasn't very well."

Evan bit the corner of his lip and looked down at his feet. Why was she doing this? Where was she going with this conversation?

Christmas had been difficult for everyone. They had numerous emergencies, all of them had been called in for extra shifts at one point or another. Chris hadn't been very well, he had a bad chest infection which meant Eddie was stressed. And then (Y/n)'s condition had flared up and she could barely walk so Evan had been anxious and desperate to stay home with her to look after her.

He turned up for an hour at the Christmas party, then he went home to stay with (Y/n). It felt better to be at home than trying to party and have a good time when he wasn't feeling the festive mood.

"Oh, Hen mentioned she has fibromyalgia. Isn't that a bit, annoying, for you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Something dangerous burned in Evan's eyes and his smile turned into a broken grimace as he looked down at her. Whatever she was thinking, she best not say it to Evan because he wasn't going to hold his tongue or mince his words here if she went down this road. He wasn't in the mood for someone to start disrespecting his partner.

And the way Lucy leaned back and shrugged her shoulders gave off such a casual vibe that made Evan feel worse. She was openly being rude and stood so normal as if she wasn't doing anything wrong.

"I just mean that you're always looking after her, you're not meant to be her carer Buck, you have a life. It makes her quite a burden on you."

A tremor rattled through (Y/n) and she turned around quickly before Evan realised she had been close enough to hear. Tears burned in her eyes but she pushed them away and coiled her arms around her waist. She needed to move; quickly. Before Evan turned or looked over his shoulder and noticed she was here. (Y/n) couldn't deal with the conversation that would follow if he knew she had just heard that.

Her eyes locked on Chris who had finished adding all the candles he had onto the chocolate cake. She made a beeline towards the kitchen and stood next to him and Bobby, leaning down to kiss his temple when he looked up at her with a grin that made her heart swell.

A single tear traced down her cheek but (Y/n) quickly swiped it away and tried to take a steady breath to control herself.

"Dad's cake."

"He's gonna love it… although I don't know how long it will take him to blow out all those candles." Her voice came out oddly steady considering how uneasy and wobbly she felt.

Was she truly a burden on Evan? (Y/n) did her best not to call him if he was at work and she wasn't well or had a problem. She always told him to go out with the guys from work or his friends even if she didn't feel well enough to join. (Y/n) pushed Evan to do things and live his life and not stop or hang around for her.

At least, that's what she thought she did.

Did she hold Evan back? Did she burden him and make him care for her too much? Was he becoming her carer instead of her partner?

Evan was a busy man, he had a very demanding job and (Y/n) would hate to be a demanding girlfriend who stole his attention and all of his free time. Maybe she needed to try and make sure she didn't rely on him as much. Maybe, if she had another flare up, it would be best to keep it from Evan and try to look after herself. He couldn't always be there to help her and do things for her or look after her; (Y/n) needed to look after herself and put less strain on Evan.

"Listen to me," Evan pushed himself up off the pool table and took a step closer until he was towering over Lucy with a menacing look and a fire burning deep within his eyes. "I don't know who gave you the right to judge, but you need to stop. Now. I'm her partner, so whether or not I look after her- which is something I have every right to do- that's none of your business."

How could she stand there and talk to him like that when she didn't know anything about him and (Y/n)?

If Evan wanted to look after (Y/n) and help her when she was ill, he had every reason and right to do that. (Y/n) never asked, Evan didn't even offer, he just looked after her because he loved her and he wanted to. Evan had a deep rooted sense of wanting to be needed and if he felt needed, he would do everything he could to look out for his family and do anything for them.

He loved (Y/n), he loved looking after her and making sure she was alright and Evan would never want (Y/n) to think she had to cope alone when he was right here.

"Don't talk about my girlfriend like that again."

Evan glared down at Lucy until she held her hands up in surrender and looked down at his chest to avoid his furious gaze.

He turned around and left her standing there before he ripped into her even further and caused a scene. The fire burning in his chest simmered down when he looked across at the kitchen and caught sight of (Y/n). She was stood with one arm around Chris in front of a cake with the most amount of candles on that Evan had ever seen.

Evan leaned over and placed the two cups down on the counter beside the cake before he wrapped an arm around (Y/n)'s waist. His arm curved around her middle so his hand could curl over her hip and he tucked his face into her neck.

He felt the way she shivered when he kissed her neck but when he looked down, his brows furrowed. She was tapping her fingers against the counter and he could see her biting down on her lower lip so much she was almost drawing blood. She was anxious about something.

His head tilted up and he pecked her jaw, nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

"Everything okay?"

"Hmm. I'm gonna record you all, Chris wants you to help him give Eddie the cake."

He muttered a quiet 'sounds good' against her jaw and began smoothing his thumb over her hip. He wasn't entirely satisfied that she was alright, it was almost as if Evan could feel the unease radiating off of her and through to him and Evan hated not knowing if something was wrong or upsetting her.

But if she told him everything was alright, Evan wouldn't push the matter. He would take her word for it.

***

Tears streaked down (Y/n)'s face as she raked her hands up and down her thighs and down over her knees. Her eyes were starting to become puffy and sore and it only made her feel worse when she couldn't seem to stop herself from sniffing and letting herself wallow and weep.

Today wasn't a good day.

She had been tired enough to oversleep this morning and while the extra sleep had done her some good, it didn't help her legs. She had woken with knees so stiff they started to throb when she tried to walk about. Pins and needles had raked up and down her left leg from her hip to her knee and had lasted until mid-afternoon.

Everything hurt. (Y/n) didn't know why today she was having a flare up, but everything ached and burned and felt like she was being cut to pieces. Banging her shin on the corner of the couch had left her a crying mess even though it was a light bash. Small pains felt like the end of the world when her fibromyalgia was playing up.

Every hour, (Y/n) had forced herself to get up and move about, just to walk around the apartment and get some movement back. She didn't go on her usual walk outside because she didn't feel up to doing it alone.

Evan was at work until lunchtime tomorrow and when he was at work, (Y/n) usually skipped her daily walk because she hated to go out alone. She knew she wasn't burdening Evan by their daily walk because he loved his exercise so it benefited both of them.

Reaching up, (Y/n) dragged her hands down her face and wiped away the tears as she tried to take a deep breath. She had been laid in bed for just over an hour and she needed to move about. She would be going to sleep soon and sleeping made her stiffness worse so she had to do another lap around the apartment before she settled for the night. (Y/n) already knew she wouldn't be sleeping well tonight, both because she was in too much pain and because Evan wouldn't be here with her.

A silent string of curse words muttered beneath her breath when she started to walk away from the bed.

Her legs were barely moving.

Her left leg had gone back to being numb and useless and her right thigh was shaking when she tried to walk. She was going to have to keep moving for a while now to reduce the pain as much as she could before she went to sleep.

(Y/n)'s left hand grabbed the handrail and her right hand glided down the wall to help ease herself down the stairs.

Sometimes she felt like a little old woman when her legs barely moved and her fingers didn't want to curl or bend or move the right way. She felt like she needed to go up and down the stairs on her bum or her hands and knees. It was utterly humiliating if she was ever at someone else's house during a flare up. Walking and hobbling around like this was bad enough when she had to do this in front of Evan.

It had taken (Y/n) a while to let Evan see her like this, she didn't want him to pity her or look at her any differently.

And he didn't. If she wasn't feeling well, he would walk behind her and hold her hands or her hips and help her up and down the stairs. He would carry her if she asked or if she just gave him that certain look. He loved carrying her around, it was his favourite thing to do.

"No-"

A gasp burned in the back of (Y/n)'s throat when her foot slipped. She barely felt her heel scrape against the lower step but she couldn't hold onto the bannister and hold her weight up to stop her from falling. The pain of her back hitting the stairs blinded her and stopped her breathing but when she slid down to the left and smashed the left side of her chest against three steps, a scream tumbled past her lips.

Her body turned into a trembling, shaking mess on the floor when she finally stopped falling and landed with a horrid slap at the bottom of the stairs.

Her arms shakily coiled into her chest but her breaths burned into another scream and she stretched her arms back out.

Her chest was on fire. It felt like she was laid on hot coals. The pain was horrendous, like a knife stabbing into her ribs. Tingling sensations shot down the base of her spine. She could barely feel her legs except for the spiking pins and needles tearing through her muscles that went right down to her heels which were thudding and felt like pins were prodding at her heels.

Tears began to pour down her face and her wet lips wobbled and bubbled as she tried to breathe but ended up gasping and crying out loudly.

Her fingers were curled into her palms and (Y/n) didn't have enough control or will power to straighten them out. She shuffled her trembling hand around to the right side of her chest beneath her bra strap.

She had broken her ribs.

(Y/n) knew they were broken without having to touch them. She had broken a few bones in her life and she knew her pain levels. Her pain was more concentrated and a lot worse than what other people experienced. Small things were amplified and things like broken bones or torn muscles felt like she had been shredded to pieces.

Inching forwards, (Y/n) tried to slide until her back was no longer wedged against the bottom step.

Moving wasn't going to be easy. She doubted it was even going to be an option right now.

(Y/n) didn't have the energy to drag herself back up the stairs that had now become her enemy.

She wasn't going to crawl into the bathroom around the corner because she couldn't be bothered to dwell in there and cry. There was no energy to try and bandage herself up and patch herself back together.

The sofa was too far away to crawl to and her phone was upstairs on the bed so she couldn't call for help.

No!

No. (Y/n) was not going to call anyone for help. She didn't want paramedics coming round to take her to hospital. She wasn't waiting all through the night in A&E only to have an X-ray and be told she could be bandaged up and sent home with stupid painkillers that never worked to take the edge off. And (Y/n) wasn't calling Maddie and having her friend and sister see her like this. It wouldn't be fair to ruin her night like that.

She couldn't call Evan.

No way could (Y/n) call Evan when he was at work. She wasn't going to panic him and drag him home and make him care for her. He would have to help her back up the stairs and patch her up and console her and (Y/n) was not going to be the burden everyone seemed to think she was. She had to look after herself, Evan wasn't here and he couldn't always come home to look after her.

It didn't matter how much she wanted Evan to come home and hug her right now, she was on her own and that was how things had to stay.

A groan tumbled past her lips when she flopped onto her right ride and heaved herself to lay facing the stairs. Her arms stretched out in front of her so they weren't cocooned to her chest and causing her anymore unnecessary pain. She did what she could to straighten her legs out and stop them from throbbing and aching as much.

Her chin tucked down into her chest and she closed her eyes, despite the tears pouring down her face that would surely flood the apartment soon.

No, (Y/n) would stay here until she felt recovered enough to get herself back upstairs into bed.

***

It took (Y/n) well over fifteen minutes to heave herself up the stairs. It seemed pointless and futile to try getting up during the night when she was throbbing and aching and still drenched in tears. (Y/n) spent the night on the floor. She knew either way she wouldn't be sleeping and she had no effort to climb up the stairs just to lay and cry in bed.

Staying on the floor was easier and let her recover her energy. It was well into the morning by the time she managed to find the will power to start her ascent up the stairs. Her knees bashed and twanged against the steps and it made her whole body shudder each time. Her fingers dug into the steps and she leaned her weight onto the wall as she sat and shuffled up.

When she was up the stairs, She crawled over to the bed and spent another five minutes trying to heave herself up.

It was surprising how quickly sleep overtook (Y/n) once she flopped onto her stomach on the bed. Her body was exhausted. Her chest was in immense agony. Her brain was on last reserves. She had spent the night laid on the floor, unable to sleep and unable to move.

She didn't know what time she managed to get into bed, just that it was late into the morning. And she didn't know how long she slept for, just that it had to of been for a while because she managed to hear the front door opening.

If (Y/n) was more herself and less drained, she would of tried to get up and meet Evan at the door or at the very least, meet him at the top of the stairs. She wanted to get up and move about and stop him from realising something had happened for her to now be in bed at lunchtime. But she was aching and broken and felt too defeated to care.

Her arms curled around Evan's shirt that had been left on the bed and she burrowed her face into his pillow, breathing in his scent to try and stay calm and drowsy. She shuffled down a little until the cover was over her shoulder and mostly hiding her whole body and head from view.

Why couldn't she just disappear?

Why was Evan with her? Why did he love her when she truly was a burden? She was to much effort. Too much hassle. Demanding. In pain. Needy. Everything was wrong with her-

"Babe… baby, where are you?" Evan's sing-song voice rang out through the apartment as he dumped his bag down by the front door and moved towards the living room.

His lips pulled into a frown when he realised the tv wasn't on and (Y/n) wasn't downstairs. He knew her shoes and keys were still by the door along with her bag so she hadn't gone out anywhere. He knew the bathroom and kitchen were empty so he headed up the stairs.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest when he looked around the bedroom. The curtains were still closed; (Y/n) always opened them as soon as she woke up. She loved to look out at the view in the morning, especially on a sunny day like this. The tv was on but it was showing the news. (Y/n) didn't watch the news; she hated it. There was a glass on the floor and juice soaked into the carpet. Clothes and pillows were thrown onto the floor.

What had she been doing?

"Sweetheart, what are you doing? What's up?" Shockwaves rattled through Evan as he moved to kneel down in front of the bed.

He laid his arms out on the bed and carefully peeled back the cover while his chin propped up on his exposed arm. He brushed his finger across (Y/n)'s cheek and swiped his thumb across her lower lip, pulling it gently until she finally opened her eyes to blearily look over at him.

Evan knew her like the back of his hand. Her sleep pattern was always troubled because like Evan struggled to switch off or stay asleep due to his hyperactiveness and his job, (Y/n) struggled due to her fibromyalgia. They had routines to stop her from being in so much pain. She never slept in, especially not this late. She was always up and moving about to keep her muscles loose and working and from seizing up.

"Tired," (Y/n) tilted her head and kissed the palm of Evan's hand which she knew tickled him because his finger twitched against her cheek.

"Couldn't you sleep?" When she shook her head, Evan moved his hand and slowly carded his fingers through her hair. "Well, do you want to get up with me? Maybe a walk will make you feel better?"

They usually had a walk after dinner. Evan knew if (Y/n) stayed in bed for much longer she would feel worse when she eventually tried to get up and he hated to see her in pain. They could have lunch and go for a walk and try to stay busy for the afternoon so she could feel better and sleep well tonight. Evan would be here tonight anyway and she slept better when he was with her, he always knew that.

"Hm."

"Well I'll go grab a shower then we can head out, sound good?" He leaned across to kiss her before he got up and started to rummage around for some fresh clothes.

(Y/n) didn't dare look at her chest when she tried to get changed. Her fingers felt a little less tense than earlier so it was easier to change her shirt but lifting her arms high had her wincing and gasping in pain. She dragged her fingers through her hair and put it up into a loose ponytail but when she dragged her numb feet towards the stairs, shudders ran through her.

What if she fell again? What if she couldn't walk down properly?

(Y/n) didn't want to go downstairs. She didn't want to take the risk and hurt herself again. She didn't want Evan to see her be so stupid and silly and fall like she did last night.

Shivers rolled through her aching muscles and her chest twinged in agony when she looked at the stairs again. Tears welled in her eyes and she suddenly moved to sit down at the top of the stairs. Shuffling down would have to do for now.

She shuffled down one step before she cried out and leaned nearer to the wall. The thumping vibration made her chest jolt and stole the air from her lungs. Her forehead slumped onto the wall and her nails dug into her knees until she was sure she was drawing blood beneath her leggings.

"Baby, you alright up there?" Evan leaned against the bottom of the bannister but his smile faded again when he realised (Y/n) was in tears.

He joggd up the stairs until he was close enough to kneel down in front of her with her knees pressed up into his chest. He smoothed his hands up and down her thighs and kissed her thigh.

"You're really having a bad day, hm? Come on, let's get you down."

(Y/n) didn't want him to help. She didn't want to ask Evan for help, but she wasn't truly asking and he wasn't being put out. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden, but was she being a burden if Evan was only offering to help her down the stairs? He helped her all the time, did that count as being annoying to him?

And she didn't want to go down the stairs on her own. Not after last night. Her body was shaking just at the thought.

(Y/n) momentairely forgot about her damaged ribs until Evan tried to slip his arms around her waist. When he helped her he usually lifted her up and sat her on his hips so he could carry her on his front. He would squeeze her thighs and kiss her neck and tell her he wasn't putting her down until she had kissed him at least a hundred times.

The moment Evan pressed his arms into her sides and placed his hands down on her back, (Y/n) cried out. It was hard not to scream and she choked on a gurgling cry when Evan tensed and froze in front of her.

"What? What did I do?" Panic surged through Evan's voice and he tried to pull back to look down at her but she wouldn't let him.

Her face tucked into his neck and her trembling arms curled around his neck to stop him from trying to move away from her. Evan gulped when he felt (Y/n) begin to whimper into his neck and her shaking broke through into him and made him rock back and forth on the stairs.

"Baby, you're scaring me."

"J-just a bad day… my chest hurts t-that's all."

He didn't believe that, but Evan wasn't going to push the subject here on the stairs. He tried to think how to get her down without touching or hurting her chest.

"Let's try get you down, tell me to stop if you need to." He moved his hands down beneath her bum and cupped the top of her thighs. He leaned his weight backwards and very slowly straightened up to keep his balance so he didn't topple them both backwards down the stairs. Once he was stood up, Evan kept his hands on her bum and turned around to start walking down.

He could still feel the way she was shaking against him and her breaths were fast and shallow against his neck. She wasn't well today and it was worrying him to no end.

(Y/n) braced her hands on his shoulders and slowly uncurled her legs from Evan's hips until she was stood on her feet again.

Her head started to spin and her breaths started to run away without her. Each breath was starting to hurt. It was like taking a proper breath made her ribs splinter and break all over again and the thought had more tears rushing down her face. But she wiped them away and turned towards the door. She needed to put her shoes on and grab her jacket.

A walk would do her some good and hopefully take some of the pain away and make it more bearable. She would grab some painkillers when they came back and dose up so she could breathe and speak and move without worrying Evan. She wasn't going to panic him any more than this.

"We're not going if you're in this much pain. What did you do, bump into the door or something, baby?"

Evan braced his hands on his hips and cocked a hip to the side when (Y/n) looked down at his arm. He knew she tended to focus on his tattoos to distract herself when she couldn't look him in the eye.

"I'm okay. I need to keep moving, let's go on a walk." (Y/n) swiped the remaining tears from her face and tried to take proper breaths to calm herself down.

Anger tore through Evan when he watched (Y/n) turn her back on him and move towards the door. She wasn't well, he could see it. He could see the way she was still breathing fast and shallow and she was shuffling rather than walking. Her legs must be stiff and him touching her chest made her cry. Something wasn't right and she wasn't telling him.

When (Y/n) leaned down to pick up her shoe, Evan saw the way she winced and moved a hand to cradle her side but even her light touch seemed to burn her and make her whimper.

He wasn't playing this game.

Evan kept his steps light and agile and the moment he stood behind (Y/n), he didn't give her chance to argue or try and ward him away.

"Evan-"

A shriek tore past (Y/n)'s lips and she leaned forward to brace her hand on the wall when she felt Evan behind her. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up before she could stop him. He pulled it up to her shoulders and let the hem of her shirt fold over her shoulders and neck so he could see what she was trying to hide from him.

"Evan, I- I-"

"What the fuck happened to you?!" His hands hovered over her sides but he didn't dare touch her. He let her turn around in front of him and it let him see the damage more clearly. Bruising had bloomed all along her back and around the left side of her chest. Various colours ranging from black to purple to splotches of red and brown. She was a canvas that had been splattered with paint.

What had she done? What happened while he had been at work? Why on Earth didn't she call him?

A small knock to any part of (Y/n)'s body caused her immense pain so Evan couldn't imagine the agony she was going through with these kinds of bruises.

"What. Happened?" Evan held (Y/n)'s chin between his thumb and finger and tilted her head up so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. He could feel his resolve crumbling when tears started to drench down her face but he wasn't budging until she told him what had gone on here.

"I fell."

"You fell? Fell into what, baby? This is bad… Christ baby girl this is real bad." Evan crouched down in front of her and moved his hands to hold her hips. He kissed her stomach and felt a shiver tear through her abdomen before he looked around her chest. He tried to dance his fingertips along her chest as delicately as he could. Evan knew she was sensitive at the best of times but even more so when she was hurt.

He didn't want to touch her and add any more pain, but he wanted to see the extent of her damage. The way she cringed and cried out and grabbed his shoulders made Evan feel tears welling up in his own eyes.

"I think you've definitely broken a few… come on, talk to me."

(Y/n) stayed silent, rolling her lips together as she moved one hand to point towards the stairs.

"What… oh- fuck no. You fell down the stairs?" Evan pulled back up and dragged his fingers through his hair. "Why the Hell didn't you call me? Baby you've broken your ribs, you could have broken your neck why wouldn't you call me to come home? Why didn't you tell me when I came in?"

Tears traced down (Y/n)'s face before she could stop herself and her hands moved up to cover her face. She could feel each shallow breath panting into the palm of her hands and her tears soaked into her fingers. She didn't want to be doing this. She didn't want to be crying her eyes out in front of Evan like this, but she couldn't stop herself.

She couldn't seem to do anything right. All she did seemed to go wrong or make things worse and now she had panicked and upset Evan when that was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Baby why didn't you call me-"

"Because I'm not being a burden to you!"

(Y/n) dropped her hands back down before she smoothed them up and down her thighs to try and stop them from shaking and sweating. She could feel herself hiccupping through her words and her chest felt like it was shredded to pieces with each fast breath she panted.

But it was the look in Evan's eyes that made her heart drop down to the pit of her stomach.

His blue eyes seemed to turn five shades darker until they were navy blue, bordering on black. Redness swelled beneath his eyes and a sheet of crimson burned along his neck and flushed his face.

His brows furrowed and he seemed to straighten up and become taller at the same time as he took a step back.

Evan didn't understand. What had he done to give her that impression? What did he say to her out of context or in passing or without thinking that made (Y/n) wonder if she had become a burden to him? Whatever he had done, he didn't mean it. Evan never wanted her to have that kind of impression and he thought he had done everything right so she wouldn't ever think like that.

"Why would you say that?" The utter defeat in Evan's voice made a sob burn at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she tilted her head back as if it would somehow push all the tears to the back of her head.

"Because I am."

"What did I do?" His question left her stumped. Their conversations had shifted, he was on a different track completely. "What did I say to make you think that?"

(Y/n) moved her hands and tangled her trembling fingers together, shaking her hands out to try and release some nervous energy but it only made her fingers ache. Why was Evan on that track? He had never done anything that made her feel like she was a burden to him and she had never said something like this to him before. (Y/n) would never want Evan to think that way because there was nothing he could do that would make her think bad of him. Ever.

"Evan…" Her wrist swiped beneath her eye and collected a fresh stream of tears. "Everyone sees it. T-they see how I burden you… I can't rely on you for everything and keep doing this to you."

"Who the fuck told you that?"

Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip deep enough to draw specks of blood that pooled around her tongue and made her cringe. She could barely see Evan due to the tears cascading down her face and she wasn't sure she wanted to see his reaction either.

Her head tilted back to look up at the high ceiling above them when she whispered "Eddie's party."

A gasp tumbled past her swollen lips when Evan's hands suddenly cupped her face. She didn't hear or see him move. He stood directly in front of her, close enough that (Y/n) could feel each turbulent breath that fanned past his lips and mingled with her own. She could feel his rough chest rising and falling less than a centimetre away from her own and she couldn't look anywhere but at his eyes when he tilted her head back.

His thumbs glided across her burning face just beneath her eyes and he brushed the tip of his nose against hers until her breathing hitched and her nose twitched and tickled.

"That was one person who knows nothing about us. Baby, no one else thinks like that, no one else is that warped and stupid. What she came out with doesn't matter-"

"It does! Evan you… you shouldn't have to be my carer-"

"The only thing that matters here is us. If I tell you I wanna look after you then I will and no one can say shit about it. You're not making me do anything. If I wanna carry you up and down those stairs for the rest of my life, I'll do it. If I wanna stay home and help you when you're having a rough day, that's my choice. No one is forcing me to do anything, I look after my girl because I love you."

There was nothing anyone could say that would make Evan feel differently about this or make him see things differently.

Lucy had no right to say what she did and he wished to God that (Y/n) hadn't heard, or that she had at least listened to what he said in retaliation.

It didn't matter what anyone said because they weren't in this relationship. Evan wanted to look after (Y/n) when she was ill, he wanted to stay home and make sure she was resting and had her meds and he wanted to help her go on walks and exercise to feel better. He wanted to pick her up when she couldn't climb the stairs herself. Evan wanted to stay home with her rather than go out alone and have a boring time he would regret.

Evan was never going to regret staying home with (Y/n) or helping her or looking after her because he loved her and he saw caring for her as a sign of his love. It wasn't a habit or a ritual or a job he had to do.

Nothing would make him see this situation any differently.

"You should have called me."

"And say what? Evan you're a fireman, I c- I can't make you come home when you're at work and your job is important-"

"(Y/n) you're important too!" His tone and pitch took (Y/n) by surprise and she shuddered when his thumbs pressed into her cheekbones so he could get her to look at him again. "If you have a fall and you're hurt, then I expect you to call me. I don't want you hiding things like this from me. My job is just that, it's a job and it doesn't mean more to me than my family."

If she got hurt, Evan wanted to know. He wanted her to call him whether she was crying or screaming or half passed out on the floor. Evan wanted her to ring him and tell him she was injured and she needed help. He wanted to be the one to help her and if he couldn't come home right away, he would make sure someone was there with her.

He didn't want to sit at work being none the wiser that she was hurt. It ground Evan down and made him angry beyond reason that he had been thinking everything was fine when (Y/n) had clearly been in agony, home alone.

She should have called him.

"Promise me you won't try and hide things like this from me."

"I promise," Her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper carried away on the wind, but it was enough for Evan. It was enough to calm the storm raging through his soul and make him finally take a proper, deep breath.

He leaned down and closed the distance between them. Tasting her lips, stealing her breath, swiping his tongue across the little flecks of blood welling up on her lower lip. He let his fingers slide down to curl across the side of her neck while his nose brushed hers and his lips stayed hovering over hers even after they pulled back.

"Now please, let me take you to get checked out."

#buck imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #imagine #911 imagine #buck x reader

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elseishollow · 5 months

Note

you’ve awakened my love for nate archibald i swear 🥹

i was wondering if you could write something for him with love languages? like what you think his would be, when showing love or receiving it, or just whatever comes to mind if you’d like to write something like that! <3

hi, thank you so much! nice to know the nate archibald propaganda is working.

✶┈ HCS | LOVE LANGUAGES — NATE ARCHIBALD

• nate. he’s quite easy on the eyes but there isn’t a whole lot going on upstairs. however, if it’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s the language of touch

• it’s an instinct for him and frankly, if we’re being honest here, he communicates love through touch like it's his native tongue

• he will seek any and every excuse under the sun just to feel the warmth of your skin against his

• "here, hold my hand. It's cold.”

• “nate, it’s literally 90 degrees out.”

• “oh sure, blame it on the weather.”

• trust he WILL use any pretext to bridge the physical distance between you

• growing up in a repressive environment, nate learned to express his love through physical gestures rather than words. It's in the way he pulls you into a hug after a long day or rests his hand on your knee under the table

• there’s times where he’ll notice how down you’re feeling with literally one singular glance and he’ll just embrace you while he’s reassuring you with sweet nothings, consecutively telling you, “it’s okay”

• for quite some time. more than he’d like to admit

• he just wants you to be okay! he’s doesn’t like to see you sad, at all. he acts as if he’s just been wounded if you happen to be.

• quality. time. he’s more keen on quality more than quantity.

• cooking together, walking in central park together, reading together, studying together (which is more yapping than studying tbh) and so on

• as for receiving love, it isn’t exactly nate's forte, but when it comes to you, he's like a lovesick puppy in need of affection

• he craves your affection just as much as he gives it

• and when you look into his eyes, you see nothing but pure adoration staring back at you

• granted he’s had his heart broken before, nate tends to build walls around himself to guard himself from the pain of rejection and disappointment

• he can be hesitant.. and second guess everything.. and doubt himself.. and also overthink everything..

• BUT!

• with you, it's different. your love has a way of breaking down those walls, brick by brick, until there's nothing left but the raw, truth of his heart

• there are moments when his longing is so palpable, you can practically feel it in the air

• “if you don’t kiss me right now, I might actually die”

• but his other love language definitely lies in words of affirmation

• oh, brother

• "i’m not staring, i’m admiring”

• his heart spills over with praise and admiration for you, often beyond measure. he has this habit of gushing uncontrollably about you to anyone who will listen—be it his family, friends, or even strangers. they have all fall victim to some extent

• there was one time where he considered buying you flowers and ended up going on a tangent about every aspect he finds fit about you

• the poor florist could barely get a word in edgewise, they were undoubtedly relieved to see him finally leave their shop

• but who could blame him?? he adores you! loves you, even! it’s in his nature

• in short, he loves you, dearly. and he’ll makes sure you know it.

notes; I wrote this in a hurry, i’m sorry. I hope you like it!

#nate archibald x reader #gossip girl x reader #nate archibald imagine #nate archibald headcanons #gossip girl imagine

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kairismess · 10 months

Note

hii!!could you make something ab tsukishima taking care of sick reader?? i love your posts <3

let me fuss over you, dummy. — tsukishima kei x sick!reader

🏐 genre: fluff ~ !

✒️ word count: 376

💭 summary: tsukki was never one to shower you with his attention, until you get sick and he's forced to show just how much he truly cares about you.

🍥 author's note: i'm sick rn actually woah ,, hoping u liked this though anon !! <333

tsukishima kei, your aloof and sarcastic lover that doesn't usually choose to avidly show you his affections, and very little does he show you an overwhelming amount of attention... but that facade of his immediately shifts his mood to a complete 180 when he notices you feeling a little under the weather.

tsukishima kei, who keeps his salty demeanor up and asks you in a seemingly nonchalant voice, "what's up with you?" he might sound like a bastard as always, but internally, he's deeply worried about what's come over you and how you're feeling right now.

tsukishima kei, who doesn't wait for you to go into detail about how you're feeling and wraps his long arm around you and takes your hands in his other hand. "alright, alright... let's continue this talk when you're feeling stronger," he tells you as he guides you to your bedroom.

tsukishima kei, who knows just how you like the ambiance and atmosphere in your room to be when you're feeling down, stressed, or sick, just like right now.

tsukishima kei, who's scrolling through medical websites for simple home remedies for common ailments with the same symptoms you're experiencing right now, and preparing all the painkillers, pain relievers, cough drops, antitussives, cold smocks, thermometers, and everything else you'd need to monitor and relieve your sickness.

tsukishima kei, who ignores your whining about him being all fussy over you, despite him hardly saying a thing. he's not exactly a man of words, he's more of a man of action. if anything, him not saying anything snarky and just going around the house, trying to find everything and prepare everything that would relieve you of your sickness is him in his fussy era all over again, you'd sometimes think he's been possessed when he's doing this for you.

tsukishima kei, who is very much not possessed and sober, sighs as he checks your temperature and puts a cold smock on your forehead. he glances down at you with his honey colored eyes and furrows his eyebrows a little in a pout.

"as much as i'd like to say you're a little baby for needing this much attention from me... i honestly can't stand seeing you suffer like this, even if it's just a small cold. don't worry about me, worry about yourself; just lie back, relax, and get better. let me fuss over you, dummy."

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lavandulawrites · 2 months

Text

Yandere Alphabet With Lyney

Yandere Lyney x reader

Thank you!<3

Masterlist

Warnings: murder, violence, imprisonment, manipulation

Word count: 2205

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Lyney loves with his every being. As the ever romantic, his love is suffocating. His touches are constant and playful. He really can’t get enough of you. He will make performances inspired by you as a way of showing his love for you. He will constantly swarm around you, ignoring your annoyed expression. It’s intense and you can’t get him to stop.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As a member of the Fatui, Lyney doesn’t mind blood. He does however not wish for his sweetheart to see his misdeeds. You’re too kind for such darkness. He will give the people around you a chance to redeem themselves. If he sees them as treats, he will kill them. He knows how important family is, so he doesn’t want to kill yours, but sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to.

Such is life.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Lyney is a natural tease, so he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to tease his love. He will mock you with flowery words, making you just nearly miss the mockery. Other than his mocking comments, he will treat you like a princess. He will only bring you the finest of gifts and hold you gently.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Not too much except forcing you to be apart of his magic shows. He will dress you up in pretty costumes and drag you on stage, flaunting his beautiful lover with a grin. He doesn't’ care if you have stage fright, he needs you as a part of his show. You are his lucky charm.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Lyney is extremely vulnerable deep down. He have experienced a lot of pain and he doesn’t want to lose you too. He will be transparent with his love for you. He will confess to you with a rainbow rose in hand in the sunset. Barring as much of his heart as possible. He will however not mention the Fatui. It’s best for you to not know.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

If you fought back Lyney would be hurt, but not surprised. He really loves you and he wishes for you to love him back so he will try to compromise with you. He will let you out of the house and walk around town with you and the wilderness if you would like, but in exchange you have to refrain from snapping back at him.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Lyney loves games and will never pass up on one. Of course he loves you more than he can ever express, but he just can’t hold back his laughter when he caught you in the vents of the house. He will purposely leave his key on the dining table when he leaves for rehearsals (he has two sets of keys).

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with the magician was when you stumbled upon him on the side of a remote road. You have decided to take a detour to your home since the weather was good. Lyney had been standing over something resembling a human body. His face splattered in red and his eyes crazed. You had let out a bloodcurdling scream and tried to run away, but he tackled you down. With frantic breathing he told you he had to kill your beloved friend in order to protect you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to marry as quickly as possible with all the children from The House of the Hearth as weeding guests. He will arrange a beautiful and romantic wedding and a tranquil honeymoon. Family is everything for Lyney so he wants to have children with you in the future. He wishes to live happily ever after with you. He will never leave you and you won’t ever be able to leave him.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Lyney is an extremely jealous man. His jealousy is all devouring. He will always have his arm around your waist if possible. He won’t hesitate with showing your admirers the way of the Fatui. He gets jealous when you talk to anyone besides him (his siblings are the only exception).

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He’s extremely flirty and touchy. He treats you like a princess and loves to spoil you. Every time he gets home he will gift you flowers (he says you can never get enough rainbow roses). He is a good actor and his act of a charming prince almost too good.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Lyney is extremely cunning and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. His observant eyes missies nothing and he is able to come up with a plan on how to win your heart, with 100% chances of success (on his part naturally).

He sets up a scenic spot decorated with a 1000 red roses. A flock of white doves flies out of his top hat. He preforms various tricks that is sure to capture the heart of the audience. When the moon hangs high in the night sky, your heart is already his.

Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

The magician is already a two-faced man before he meets you given his position within the Fatui. When he meets you he showers you in sweet words and romantic compliments. When he crosses pats with someone he deems a threat to you or your relationship, his personality is completely different. He became cold and ruthless, showing no mercy as he skilfully slays them. If someone is to tell you about his two-faced behaviour, he is quick to silence them. No one is allowed to taint his rose.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Lynsey’s punishments are as unpredictable as his many tricks. Some days he doesn’t really feel like punishing you and other days he really makes it clear that he is the successor of The House Of the Hearth.

His punishments either consist of lack of food or solitary confinement. He isn’t too fond of punishments, but he recognises the effects it has that is in favour for him.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

You’re allowed to roam the streets with either him or his two siblings if you behave well. Lyney deep down wishes for your relationship to be somewhat normal, but if you are making it extremely difficult, he won’t hesitate to confine you within his home.

You’re allowed to read as many books as your heart desires and he even let you keep a little cat as a pet.

He will take you to his shows where he is thrilled to preform for his beloved.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

When it comes to magic and his duties in The House of the Hearth he sees himself as a really patient man, but when it comes to you it’s a whole other story. His poor heart cannot bear seeing you on your own in this big dangerous world. He knows he needs to take his time, but oh is it difficult.

When he finally has you within his arms he will no longer be patient. He has been waiting for so long, so what harm is there?

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you manage to escape from the great magician, he will do anything in is power in order to get you back. He will ask Father for help and despite her cold exterior, she will agree; because family is the most impotent thing and you have become a part of Lyney’s family. You’re to be weeded after all.

If you die Lyney will never be able to move on. His magic shows will decrease in quality and his work within the Fatui will be halfhearted. He will eat less and less and he will never see the point of living ever again. He will wait for his end, but never chase it. He cannot leave his siblings, even if it means finally being with you.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Lyney will at first feel a little guilty from separating you from his family. He knows more than anyone else how important family is. He will seek his sister for some advice and while she does feel bad for you, she will encourage her brother. Lynette wants her brother to be happy and she wishes for him to make a family of his own somewhere in the future.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His horrible childhood has definitely played a big part of how he became so very possessive when it comes to you. He has always been terrified of losing those he cares about and you’re far from an exception. When he first met you and fell in love, he knew he had to protect you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Lyney hates seeing you crying and he desperately tries to cheer you up with silly little tricks. If you scream or kick, he will give you time to calm down and if that doesn’t work he will slip some calming medicine into your tea.

If you ever try to isolate yourself, he will persuade you to open your door and come and join him in front of the lit hearth. He understands that you sometimes need time for yourself, but he won’t allow you to shut him out.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

At first the blond magician seem rather harmless with his friendly smiles and his passion for the art of preforming, but under his charming smiles lurks a monster who will shy at nothing when it comes to his beloved. He lured those who have wronged you and kills them in cold blood. He will return to you with a bouquet of beautiful flowers with a gently smile.

He is unpredictable and you never know what he truly thinks as he eyes the man you had just asked for directions. In other words, Lyney is a surprisingly dangerous man.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His weakness is without a doubt his family. His duties within The House of the Hearth sometimes require him to go away from some time, resulting in his siblings being the ones to take care of you. It’s then you chances of escape are the highest.

If you do escape it won’t take long at all till he finds you and drags you back with eyes colder than the unforgiving winter in Snezhnaya.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Lyney would never hurt you, at least not physically. He loves you too much and he cannot bear to see you in pain. If he accidentally hurts you, he will never forgive himself.

He will however play with your mind in mind games in order to wear you out emotionally which results in you clinging to him.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

The famed magician will stop at absolutely nothing when it comes to you. He will let the rivers in Fontaine run red if it means you will be his only. He is a smart man and he knows how to bend the rules to his advantage. You’re more important to him than his two beloved siblings.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It will take a few months max before he finally snaps. He will follow a seamless plan which he has carefully thought out. It won’t be long after the plan has been set in motion before you find yourself tangled in his web with no escape. Just as his vision, his love is passionate and flaming, which will never ever be extinguished.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Lyney will never break you. If he sees your mental health declining he will do anything in his power to help you. Be it outings to a remote cabin in Fontaine’s beautiful wilderness or a visit to the best psychiatrist in the entirety of Fontaine. Lyney’s connections are vast and there are many who owes him favours. He will make sure you return to your old self in no time.

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cxptain-capsicle · 7 months

Text

Beyond the Sea | Luke Castellan | I

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Unclaimed Poseidon Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Claustrophobia, near death, angst, fluff

Series Masterlist Taglist

Two days had passed, at least you thought it had been two days although there was no way to know for sure considering no light was able to reach you. You had been chased across upstate New York by a Minotaur that you couldn’t seem to shake. He cornered you into a small cave in the woods, so small the Minotaur couldn't get in no matter how hard he tried. The Minotaur scratched and clawed to reach you until the rocks of the cave cascaded down over his head forcing him to pull away, trapping you indefinitely in the cave. You screamed and pulled at the rocks but they wouldn’t budge. Panic set in, you were trapped and there was nothing you could do about it. So two days had passed, no food, no water, no light. You fought to stay awake past your growling stomach and dry mouth. White spots started to appear in your vision. “This is it,” You thought. “Death by starvation.”. You were finally seeing the light. Wait, you were seeing the light. Real light, sunlight coming through the cracks in the rocks. Voices shouting on the other side were muffled from your exhaustion. More light continued to shine through until there was a hole in the rocks big enough for the strangers to fit through. You couldn’t hear well, your vision was blurred, and the sudden light after so long of darkness was painful. A girl came through the hole first, her hair was long and curly but you couldn’t make out much else. Then a boy, tall with dark hair. Finally a second boy, and you knew you were hallucinating when you swore he had hooves. They all wore the same bright orange shirt as they rushed to your side. The dark haired boy went down to the ground, pulling you into his lap to prop your head up. The girl crouched down next to you and pulled something out from behind her back. A flask, she tilted your head back and poured the contents into your mouth. Immediately the aching and pain in your body was relieved and your dry throat stopped burning with every breath. The muffled voices started to become clearer.

“Is she even alive?” The girl asked impatiently.

“Real sympathetic Clarisse.” The boy holding onto you responded. “Hey,” He shook you slightly. “You there?” You tried to speak but the words couldn’t come out. You kept trying but nothing was working. “It’s okay, don’t worry. You’re gonna be fine.”

You’d never met this boy before, but for some reason you believed him.

“There’s a Minotaur!” Someone shouted from outside the door of your cabin. “On the hill!”

Luke and you simultaneously looked at eachother. You hadn’t seen a Minotaur in 3 years.

“Why is there a Minotaur on the hill?” You asked.

“Nothing good.” Luke said as he hauled himself off of the floor by your bed.

“Do you think it has to do with Grover?” You questioned. “He’s supposed to bring back that kid.”

That was enough to get you both in motion, following everyone to the boundary line. When you reached the boundary line you realized it was raining. Weather didn’t affect camp unless Mr. D, camp director, let it. Everyone was crowding at the edge, too hesitant to step out into the rain, into possible danger. You and Luke broke through the crowd, passing the boundary line and rushing to Grover who was crouched down. Grover was hovering over a boy who laid on the ground, he was young, long, curly, sandy hair that stuck to his face.

“Where’s the Minotuar?” Luke looked around frantically. Grover looked up at us, squinting through the rain

“He killed it.”

When you woke up you were in some type of infirmary. Morning light shone through the stained glass windows and painted colors on the floor. You were in the same orange shirt that the kids in the cave wore. When you looked around you saw the boy, the same one from the cave. He was sound asleep, slumped in a metal chair next to your bed.

You struggled to sit up in the bed but somehow you managed, waking the boy in the process. He jolted in the chair, rising to his feet in less than a second.

“You’re awake” He sounded shocked. “I’m sorry… Hi.” He smiled. “I’m Luke.”

“Hi,” You said, your voice too raspy to say much else and honestly not knowing what else to say.

“Oh, of course, water.” He reached over to the nightstand to grab a glass of water. You drank it in seconds, whatever they had given you in the cave had revitalized you but it didn’t even come close to this.

“Better?” He chuckled at your eagerness.

“Much.” You nodded. “How long was I out?”

“A few days. Your body was exhausted, who knows how long you were trapped in there.”

“Where am I?” You changed the subject quickly, the thought of the cave made you feel sick.

“That’s a long story.” He didn’t seem to know where to start. “Let’s talk about it over breakfast.”

Luke led you out of the infirmary and you realized it was a house, a massive house. So massive in fact that they called it the “Big House”. You left the big house and walked down a path that led to a cluster of houses in the shape of a U. Past the houses a pavilion, it radiated the smell of maple syrup and orange juice. Just the smell made you pick up your speed.

In the pavilion there were a few kids, all wearing the same shirts, sitting down for breakfast. When you walked with Luke into the pavilion everyone turned and stared but you were too busy taking in your surroundings. There were tall columns with flames on top surrounding the pavilion. There were tables all around it each with a white table cloth laying over it with a vivid violet trim.

“Here,” Luke gestured to a seat at one of the tables. “Sit here, I’ll grab you a plate.”

You sat down without hesitation, desperate to start eating. Luke was only gone for a minute before he came back with a full plate and a large chalice. As soon as the plate hit the table you started eating.

“Plenty more where that came from.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure you must be starving.” You took large gulps out of the chalice but no matter how much you drank there always seemed to be more.

“So…” He started slowly. “This place.” You were listening to him but you were significantly more interested in the pancakes.

“This place is called Camp Half-Blood. It’s a safe place for kids like us… half-bloods, demigods. Children of-”

“Greek gods.” You cut him off. He stared at you wide-eyed. “Like the ones from the myths.”

“How did you-?”

“Yeah it put it together when the giant bull man chased me across New York, and when the scorpion cat thing caught my house on fire when I was 15, and the massive bird chased me for five miles when I was 11, and-”

“You’ve known for that long?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a shocked statement.

“I’ve been chased around since I was a kid. I just never knew a place like this existed.” You looked around with admiration. “How did you guys find me?”

“Grover, he’s a satyr his job is to bring Half-Bloods to camp safely.” Luke explained. You felt a lot better knowing that the hooves weren’t a figment of your imagination. “When Chiron, oh- he's the camp activities director. When Chiron heard about the minotaur he thought it would be best to send Clarisse and me to help.”

Somehow reality just seeped in. Luke saved your life. You would have died in there, slowly, alone, afraid. You were going to die, then he found you, he held you in his arms and he told you everything would be okay. And for some reason, you believed him.

Please give me your feedback! <3

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo series #luke x reader #percy jackson show #percy jackson x reader #luke pjo #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo

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rafesapologist · 7 months

Text

the setback ─ rafe cameron (sequel to the set up)

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: not much, angst, mentions of addiction and drug use, mentions of alcohol

author's note: the sequel is here!! thank you guys for showing so much love for the set up and i can't wait for you guys to read the continuation of the series! mwah

Rafe wiped the sweat from his brow as he hoisted another crate onto the ship's deck, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight. The salty tang of the sea filled the air around him, mingling with the scent of freshly sawn wood and the metallic hint of the gold hidden within the crates. His father, a rugged man with a weather-beaten face and a glint of mischief in his eyes, worked alongside him, his movements deft and sure.

"You're moving slower than a sloth today, Rafe," Ward teased, his voice carrying over the sounds of the bustling port. "Pick up the pace, boy!"

Rafe shot his father a mock glare before responding with a grin. "Maybe if you'd stop distracting me with your incessant chatter, old man, I could actually get some work done."

Ward chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, but where's the fun in that? Besides, a little banter makes the time go by faster."

As they continued their task, Ward's tone shifted, his voice taking on a more serious note. "You know, Rafe, I've been hard on you over the years. Pushed you to be better than you thought you could be."

Rafe paused, surprised by his father's admission. He glanced up, meeting Ward's gaze with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

"But you've turned out to be my best child," Ward continued, his expression softening with pride. "Strong, capable, and fiercely loyal. I couldn't ask for more."

Rafe's heart swelled at his father's words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. For so long, he had sought his father's approval, yearning for even the smallest sign of acceptance. And now, here it was, offered freely in the midst of their everyday routine.

"Unlike your sister," Ward muttered, his voice heavy with regret. "Sarah always had a wild streak in her. Ran off two years ago, couldn't handle the life we lead. Sometimes I wonder if I pushed her too hard."

Rafe's heart clenched at the mention of Sarah, his sister who had always been their father's favorite. He'd watched with a mixture of resentment and envy as Ward showered her with praise and affection, leaving Rafe to feel like an afterthought.

"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd paid as much attention to me as you did to her, she wouldn't have felt the need to run," Rafe blurted out before he could stop himself.

Ward's gaze snapped to Rafe, his expression a mix of surprise and hurt. For a moment, the air between them crackled with tension, each of them grappling with the weight of their unspoken words.

But then Ward's features softened, his gaze filled with a mixture of regret and understanding. "I'm sorry, Rafe," he said quietly. "I never meant to make you feel like you weren't enough. You're my son, and I love you, no matter what."

Rafe swallowed past the lump in his throat, his eyes burning with unshed tears. In that moment, he realized that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for their fractured relationship after all.

Rafe wiped his forehead with his shirt, the midday sun beating down relentlessly as he and his father continued their task under the sweltering heat of Figure Eight's early summer. The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sweat, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the dock providing a backdrop to their labor.

"So, how're things with you and Sofia?" Ward asked, his voice cutting through the oppressive heat as he glanced over at Rafe.

Rafe paused, taken aback by his father's sudden inquiry. He hadn't expected Ward to broach the subject of his relationship with Sofia, not after their last conversation had ended in a heated argument about Rafe's antics.

"Uh, things are good," Rafe replied cautiously, unsure of how much he wanted to divulge. "We're… figuring things out, I guess."

Ward nodded, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "She's a good girl, that one. Strong-willed, like you. You two make a good match."

Rafe couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his father's words, a warmth spreading through him despite the oppressive heat. It was rare for Ward to offer his approval so freely, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"Yeah, she's something special," Rafe agreed, a fond smile playing at his lips as he thought of Sofia. "I'm lucky to have her."

Ward clapped him on the back, a grin spreading across his weathered face. "That you are, son. That you are."

As Rafe continued with his work, his thoughts drifted back to the early days of his relationship with Sofia, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. They had been through so much together, weathering storms both literal and figurative, yet somehow emerging stronger each time.

But as memories of their first meeting flooded his mind, Rafe's smile faltered, replaced by a pang of sadness. He remembered the excitement and nervousness he had felt as he approached her that day, the thrill of possibility mingling with the uncertainty of the unknown.

And then, like a sudden storm cloud on a clear day, another memory intruded upon his thoughts. A memory of someone else, someone who had once been a constant presence in his life but had vanished without a trace.

"You were still here," Rafe whispered to himself, the words barely audible over the din of the bustling port. "Before you ran away."

The pain of your disappearance still lingered, a wound that had yet to fully heal. Rafe couldn't help but wonder where you had gone, what had driven you to leave without so much as an explanation. Had it been something he had said or done? Or had you simply grown tired of waiting for him to change, to become the person you had hoped he would be?

As the memories threatened to overwhelm him, Rafe shook his head, banishing them to the recesses of his mind once more. There was work to be done, and he couldn't afford to let himself be consumed by thoughts of the past, no matter how painful they might be.

But deep down, in the quiet corners of his heart, he couldn't shake the feeling that he would never truly be able to move on until he had unraveled the reasoning of your disappearance and found closure once and for all.

With a determined shake of his head, Rafe pushed aside the tumult of emotions swirling within him and focused on the task at hand. He hoisted the final crate onto the ship with a grunt of effort, the weight of it a physical reminder of the burdens he carried both on and off the dock.

"Finished up here, Dad," Rafe called out, wiping his hands on his trousers as he made his way over to where Ward stood overseeing the loading process.

Ward glanced up, his brow furrowing in mild surprise at the sudden interruption. "Already? Well, I'll be damned. Looks like you're finally starting to earn your keep around here."

Rafe grinned at his father's gruff praise, a sense of satisfaction settling over him despite the lingering ache in his heart. "Guess I'm good for something after all."

Ward chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder with a rough hand. "Don't sell yourself short, son. You've got more potential than you give yourself credit for."

With a nod of thanks, Rafe stepped away from his father and headed toward the gangplank, eager to escape the confines of the dock and lose himself in the familiar streets of Figure Eight once more.

"I'm heading out to meet up with Sofia," he called over his shoulder, his voice carrying on the breeze. "I'll be back later."

Ward waved him off with a casual salute, his attention already turning back to the task at hand. "Take your time, Rafe. Just don't keep the girl waiting too long, or she might start thinking you've forgotten about her."

Rafe laughed, the sound ringing out clear and bright against the backdrop of the bustling port. "Trust me, Dad. That's the last thing I'd ever do."

As Rafe cruised down the sun-drenched streets of Figure Eight in his trusty old truck, a sense of freedom washed over him. The wind whipped through the open windows, tousling his hair and carrying with it the scent of salt and sea. He couldn't help but feel a surge of joy bubbling up inside him, the promise of the afternoon ahead adding an extra spring to his step.

But as he idly flipped through the radio stations, searching for the perfect soundtrack to accompany his journey, his heart skipped a beat when he stumbled upon a familiar melody. The haunting strains of "Gold Dust Woman" by Fleetwood Mac filled the cab of the truck, wrapping around him like a warm embrace.

For a moment, Rafe's finger hovered over the buttons, torn between the desire to switch the song and the inexplicable pull of nostalgia that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a song you had loved, one that had become intertwined with memories of lazy afternoons spent driving aimlessly along the coast, lost in each other's company.

With a sigh, Rafe let his finger fall away from the radio, surrendering to the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by the bittersweet melody, the lyrics weaving a tapestry of emotions that mirrored the tangled mess of his thoughts.

In that moment, you felt closer to him than ever, your presence lingering in the spaces between the notes, in the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. And as he drove on, your memory by his side, Rafe couldn't help but wonder if somewhere out there, you were listening to the same song, thinking of him as he was thinking of you.

As Rafe pulled into Sofia's driveway, he couldn't shake the feeling of being haunted by your presence, like a ghost lingering in the shadows of his mind. He sighed heavily, trying to push aside the memories that threatened to overwhelm him, focusing instead on the task at hand.

He turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat, the familiar comfort of his truck offering him a brief respite from the turmoil within. But even as he tried to clear his mind, he found himself unable to shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him from within.

With a shaky breath, Rafe closed his eyes, willing himself to find some semblance of peace amidst the storm of emotions that raged inside him. He reminded himself that he was here for Sofia, that she was the one who mattered in this moment, not the ghosts of his past that threatened to consume him.

Minutes passed like hours as Rafe waited in silence, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him like a heavy burden. But just when he felt like he couldn't bear it any longer, the front door of Sofia's house swung open, and she emerged onto the porch, a bright smile lighting up her face.

Rafe's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, the warmth of her presence chasing away the shadows that had threatened to engulf him. With a sense of relief washing over him, he pushed open the door of his truck and stepped out onto the gravel driveway, ready to leave the ghosts of his past behind and embrace the promise of the present moment with Sofia by his side.

Sofia's cheerful voice broke through the haze of Rafe's thoughts as she opened the passenger door and greeted him with a warm smile. The kiss she placed on his cheek sent a flutter through his chest, dispelling the lingering shadows that had haunted him moments before.

"Hey, you," Sofia said, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Ready for tonight?"

Rafe returned her smile, the weight of his worries easing at the sight of her infectious enthusiasm. "Absolutely," he replied, his voice laced with anticipation. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

As he stepped out of the truck and joined Sofia on the driveway, he felt a renewed sense of purpose wash over him. Whatever demons lurked in the corners of his mind, he knew that as long as he had Sofia by his side, he could face them head-on with unwavering determination.

With a quick squeeze of Sofia's hand, Rafe followed her lead as they made their way towards the house, leaving the shadows of his past behind and embracing the promise of the night ahead. Whatever challenges awaited them at the party, Rafe knew that together, they could conquer anything that came their way.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You were sprawled out on a hammock with JJ, the gentle sway of the hammock lulling you into a state of blissful relaxation. The warm summer breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers. You took a deep inhale, the fragrant smoke from the blunt swirling around you as you passed it back and forth with JJ.

"Man, this is the life," JJ said, his voice lazy with contentment as he took another hit before passing the blunt back to you. "Just kicking back, enjoying the sun, and getting high with my favorite person."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, the corners of your lips curling up into a lazy smile. "Right back at you, JJ," you replied, taking a long drag from the blunt before passing it back to him. "Couldn't think of a better way to spend the day."

As the two of you lounged in comfortable silence, the stresses of the outside world melted away, leaving nothing but the warmth of the sun on your skin and the soothing rhythm of the hammock beneath you. In that moment, surrounded by the peaceful tranquility of nature and the company of a good friend, you felt truly at ease, content to simply exist in the here and now.

JJ took another hit from the blunt, his gaze distant as he reminisced. "Life was wild back on the cut, huh?" he mused, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. "But I gotta say, we're much better off where we are now."

You nodded in agreement, the memories of your past life tugging at the corners of your mind. "Yeah, definitely," you replied, your voice soft as you passed the blunt back to him. "It's been a crazy journey, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

As you took another hit, however, your smile faltered, a shadow passing over your features. Memories of your time on the cut flooded back, and with them came thoughts of Rafe. "Remember those days at the chateau?" you said, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "Those were some good times."

JJ's expression softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, they were," he said quietly. "But you know what they say about nostalgia… sometimes, it ain't all it's cracked up to be."

You couldn't help but laugh at his words, the tension easing from your shoulders as you took another hit from the blunt. "True that," you replied, a wistful smile playing at your lips. "But hey, at least we made it out alive, right?"

With a shared chuckle, you and JJ settled back into the comforting rhythm of the hammock, content to bask in the warmth of the sun and the camaraderie of each other's company, even as the memories of the past lingered on the edges of your consciousness.

As you and JJ lounged on the hammock, lost in reminiscence, the sound of footsteps approaching drew your attention. You glanced up to see Kiara emerging from the house, a cooler full of drinks in her hands, followed closely by Sarah, a mischievous smirk playing at her lips.

"Hey, look who decided to join the party," Kiara said with a grin, setting the cooler down beside the hammock. "Thought you two could use a little refreshment."

You couldn't help but sit up in excitement, the prospect of cold drinks on a hot day too good to pass up. "Hell yeah, thanks Kiara," you said, reaching eagerly for a beverage as she offered them around.

Sarah followed suit, her smirk widening as she made eye contact with you. "Enjoying yourselves, I see?" she teased, her tone light-hearted as she handed you a drink.

You chuckled in response, taking a swig from the can and relishing the cool liquid as it slid down your throat. "Absolutely," you replied, a grin spreading across your face. "Nothing beats kicking back with good company and a cold drink on a day like today."

JJ echoed your sentiment, taking a drink of his own and offering a nod of thanks to Sarah and Kiara. As the four of you settled into easy conversation, the worries of the past and the uncertainties of the future faded into the background, replaced by the simple pleasure of the present moment and the warmth of friendship.

As you enjoyed the drinks and banter with Kiara, Sarah, and JJ, your attention was drawn to a nearby jacuzzi where John B and Pope lounged, seemingly lost in their own conversation. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of JJ's impulsive purchase, a jacuzzi that seemed out of place yet strangely fitting in the backyard of the house.

"Check it out," you said, nudging JJ with your elbow and gesturing towards the jacuzzi. "Looks like John B and Pope are living the high life over there."

JJ grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched his friends. "Hey, if we're gonna do this whole beach lifestyle thing, might as well do it right," he remarked, a hint of pride in his voice.

You couldn't argue with that logic, especially not when you saw the smiles on John B and Pope's faces as they relaxed in the warm water, their cares melting away with each passing moment. With a nod of agreement, you settled back into the hammock, content to bask in the simple joys of friendship and camaraderie, even as the world around you seemed to spin with uncertainty.

As you basked in the warmth and joy of the moment, a sense of contentment washed over you like a soothing tide. Here, in this idyllic setting, you were free from the debts and drama that had plagued your life back in the Outer Banks. The weight of those burdens lifted from your shoulders, leaving you feeling light and unencumbered for the first time in what felt like ages.

You couldn't help but marvel at the peace you had found in this new life, a life where you weren't constantly running from something or someone. Here, surrounded by friends who felt more like family, you finally felt like you belonged.

But even as you reveled in the happiness of the present, a twinge of guilt gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. You couldn't shake the feeling that despite the freedom and joy you now experienced, a part of you still felt tethered to the past, to the people you had left behind without a word of explanation.

Memories of your abrupt departure crept into your mind, casting a shadow over the tranquility of the moment. You couldn't help but wonder if you had made the right choice, if leaving had been the only option or simply the easiest one.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside the doubts and regrets that threatened to dampen your spirits, focusing instead on the warmth of the sun on your skin and the laughter of your friends echoing in the air. Here, in this moment, you were determined to embrace the peace and happiness that surrounded you, letting go of the past and embracing the promise of the future with open arms.

With a satisfied sigh, you finished the last sips of your drink and set the empty can aside. Feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin, you decided it was time for a refreshing dip in the jacuzzi. With practiced ease, you peeled off your loose t-shirt, revealing the vibrant bikini underneath.

As you sat up from the hammock, the cool breeze playing across your skin, you made your way over to the jacuzzi where John B and Pope lounged, enjoying the warm water. With a playful grin, you called out to them, "Hey guys, mind making some room for me?"

John B and Pope looked up, their faces breaking into wide smiles at the sight of you approaching. "Of course, come on in!" John B exclaimed, scooting over to make space for you beside him.

You slipped into the jacuzzi with a contented sigh, the warm water enveloping you in its comforting embrace. As you settled in between your friends, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the simple pleasures of life, for moments like these spent with good friends in the warmth of the sun. With a smile, you leaned back and let the worries of the world slip away, fully embracing the peace and happiness of the present moment.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Rafe leaned against the doorway of Sofia's room, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched her finish getting ready. She moved with effortless grace, her movements fluid and purposeful as she applied the final touches to her outfit.

"You look beautiful," Rafe said softly, his voice filled with genuine admiration as he took in the sight of her.

Sofia turned to him, a radiant smile lighting up her features. "Thanks, Rafe," she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You're not looking too bad yourself."

Rafe chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at her compliment. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for this girl who had stolen his heart, who had stood by him through thick and thin, who had helped him find his place in the world.

As Sofia put the finishing touches on her makeup, Rafe couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within him. Tonight was going to be special, he could feel it in his bones. And with Sofia by his side, he knew that no matter what the night held in store, it would be a memory he would cherish for years to come.

With a final glance in the mirror, Sofia turned to Rafe, a playful glint in her eye. "Ready to go?" she asked, holding out her hand to him.

Rafe nodded, a grin spreading across his face as he took her hand in his. "Absolutely," he replied, his heart racing with excitement as they made their way out the door and into the night, ready to take on whatever adventures awaited them together.

As Rafe and Sofia headed to Topper's house party, the anticipation buzzed between them, filling the car with an infectious energy. With the windows down and the music blaring, they sang along to their favorite songs, laughter dancing on their lips as they shared the joy of the moment.

Rafe stole glances at Sofia in the passenger seat, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her sing her heart out, her laughter filling the air like music. Her happiness was contagious, and he couldn't help but smile as he soaked in the sight of her, the love he felt for her radiating from every fiber of his being.

But as he glanced over at her once more, something shifted. For a split second, he thought he saw a flash of your face superimposed over hers, your eyes meeting his in a haunting echo of the past. His heart skipped a beat, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he blinked in disbelief.

The moment passed in the blink of an eye, leaving Rafe shaken and disoriented. He shook his head, trying to shake off the strange sensation that lingered in the air. But deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that your presence still lingered, a ghost haunting the edges of his consciousness, refusing to be ignored.

Sofia's sweet gesture snapped Rafe out of his momentary dissociation, her warm kiss on his cheek grounding him in the present. He blinked, the remnants of the strange sensation fading away as he met her gaze, her smile a beacon of light in the darkness.

"Can't wait for the party, huh?" Rafe echoed, a smile spreading across his face as he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "Me neither. It's gonna be a blast."

Sofia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she settled back into her seat, the anticipation palpable in the air between them. With a renewed sense of determination, Rafe refocused his attention on the road ahead, the memory of your face fading into the recesses of his mind as he focused on the promise of the night ahead with Sofia by his side.

As Rafe drove, the weight of what had just happened settled heavily on his shoulders, casting a shadow over his thoughts. Try as he might to shake off the strange sensation, the memory of your face superimposed over Sofia's lingered in the corners of his mind, refusing to be ignored.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe felt himself zoning out, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he lost himself in the rhythm of the road. The familiar longing for escape crept up on him like an unwelcome guest, gnawing at his impulses and filling him with a restless energy.

He couldn't help but feel trapped, caught between the pull of his past and the promise of the future. The road stretched out before him, endless and unforgiving, a tantalizing temptation beckoning him to leave it all behind and disappear into the unknown.

As Rafe navigated the streets towards the party, a sense of unease gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the feeling that this party was just another part of his plan to escape, a temporary reprieve from the weight of his troubles. And buried beneath that unease lurked the insidious craving for something more, something that promised to numb the pain and quiet the demons that haunted him.

Coke.

The mere thought sent a shiver down Rafe's spine, a mixture of desire and dread swirling in the pit of his stomach. He knew the dangers of succumbing to his cravings, knew the havoc it could wreak on his life and the lives of those he cared about. But in moments of weakness, the allure of escape proved too strong to resist.

As he pulled into the driveway of Topper's house, the bass thumping from the speakers and the laughter of the partygoers filling the air, Rafe felt a familiar sense of anticipation building within him. He knew what awaited him inside, knew the temptations that lurked in the shadows, yet he couldn't deny the pull they held over him.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe steeled himself for what lay ahead, determined to navigate the minefield of his desires with caution and restraint. But deep down, he couldn't shake the sinking feeling that tonight, like so many nights before, would end in a blur of euphoria and regret.

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alpurrtwhizkersss · 2 years

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Omg you're taking six of crows requests?!?

Can I get a Kaz x fem!reader where the two of them are a couple (or trying to be) like Kaz is less snappy towards her, they're working on his touch aversion and everything.

But then on a heist gone wrong reader is hurt/stabbed/shot and falls into the Harbour, and Kaz is terrified because of the water but he's more terrified of losing his girl and he realizes that none of the other crows will reach her in time so he dives into the water to save her and when he drags her back onto the dock they just hug each other and the reader is apologizing for ruining the heist, Kaz is just holding her tightly and telling her it's ok, she's safe and that's how the rest of the crows find them, curled up at the end of the dock. Maybe some soft kisses?

Kaz trying to deal with his trauma in ways like this makes me happy

His Star

Requested By: anonymous!

Warnings: Drowning, reader gets stabbed in the arm, Kaz deals with some trauma flashbacks/anxiety, possibly OOC Kaz.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Prompt: None

She/Her pronouns used to refer to reader.

Author’s Note:

hey!! sorry this one took so long, I haven't written for Kaz for a WHILE so I hope this meets your request!

Word Count: 1321

Kaz loved you.

Or, at least, you thought he did. He had never told you explicitly, but then, the ruthless young man had never told many people of his affections for them, choosing instead to close himself off to the world instead of facing his feelings.

Despite the mask he put over his emotions every day, you could still tell he loved you through the way he treated you, how he didn’t snap at you like he snapped at the other crows, and the way he looked at you.

Oh, how he looked at you.

Kaz Brekker looked at you as though he was a tired man, bound to the ground of the earth, weak and broken, and you were a star in the dark, endless sky waiting to lead him home, your brightness and your beauty incomparable to anything else.

There were many times Kaz had wanted to touch you, to reach his gloved hand out and graze it against your cheek, or to squeeze your thigh for comfort as you sat beside him, but he couldn’t. He feared that if he did, it would bring everything back. Bring Jordie’s death back. And the possibility was too painful to try.

You understood, of course, you would never push him to do anything he didn’t want to, so you left it alone. You never asked, you barely even thought, because even the idea of making Kaz uncomfortable or upset made guilt squeeze your heart sharply. You would listen if he brought up the idea, but you’d never do it yourself. You’d never put that burden on him over something he couldn’t control.

So you made do with what you had, you loved him in other ways, helping him with planning heists, gathering information to make his job easier, making sure he ate, checking up on him every so often (despite his protests), giving him small smiles across the Crow Club when you could see he was getting frustrated. Little things that made your presence known, but that didn’t intrude too much on his life, and you were happy that way.

“Y/N!” Jesper’s voice broke your thoughts as you slid down the rain-soaked tiles of the building you were scaling, landing gracefully on your feet as you shot along the gutter at the bottom and leaped onto the next one.

“What?” You yelled, hoping he would catch it over the raging wind, but all you heard in response was silence, and you realised you could no longer hear the cracking of his boots against the tile.

Risking a look behind you, you caught your gaze on Jesper’s long figure clambering back up the roof, two others, Inej and Wylan, caught your eye as well, though, where Kaz was you had no idea, and you skidded to a halt, stopping for a moment as you watched the security of the bank you’d just attempted to rob begin gaining on you, their yells rising far above the torrential weather, you watched the other Crows running along the top of the roof, you only caught on to why they were doing this as you turned back, and felt a swift, violent pain crash through your upper arm, you let out an ear piercing scream as the shock and pain overwhelmed you, making your vision blur and your knees buckle underneath you. Almost as soon as you made a noise, you heard Jasper’s pistols shoot rounds into your attacker’s body, quickly able to take out some other guards from his high-up position, yet nobody came to save you as your body tumbled into the freezing harbour water that cascaded against the walls of the bank.

Kaz yelled your name as he watched you disappear off the side of the roof and into the waters below. He had already chosen to stay behind when he realised that you had not heard Jesper’s call to retreat upwards, and he thanked the Saints that he did when he began racing towards the edge of the roof, still screaming your name as he searched for your body in the blackness beneath him.

For the first time in a while, Kaz took a sharp, relieved inhale at the sight of your head poking above the water, and soon your arms came thrashing with it.

As you caught sight of Kaz, you began yelling, mostly unintelligible words, but he heard his name ring in his ears, and he swore he felt his heart tear itself out of his chest when he recognised the fear in your voice.

The fear in your voice that brought him back to that night. With Jordie. Jordie and the boat. And the eerie silence only broken every so often by the groans of the wood and the shifting of clothes against the bodies of the victims that the plague had so cruelly taken.

No. Kaz scolded himself. Stop. Stop, you have to help Y/N. She’ll die if you don’t help her.

He didn’t give himself time to think again before throwing himself into the freeze after you, and almost immediately he felt the same horrible effect that he felt that night with Jordie begin to take hold.

He pushed through it as he kept his mind on you. He couldn’t let you die.

If you died, he didn’t know what he would do with himself, he likes to tell himself that he could get through anything. That grief didn’t affect him anymore.

But with you? You were his star, and if you weren’t there anymore, his sky would go dark.

Kaz could hear your sobs echoing through the night air as he pulled himself through the current and closer to you. Almost as soon as he touched your skin with his gloved hands, he had to stop himself from letting the panic take over, soon becoming grounded once again by your whimpers and pleas for help.

“C-come here, Y/N.” He stammered out, the temperature of the water mixed with the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his speech slurred and awkward as he pulled you towards his chest.

You soon found yourself approaching the harbour, and Kaz made it his first priority to hoist your body up onto the wooden decking, quickly pulling himself up after.

As soon as you were safely out of the water, you backed yourself up against a wall, leaning to the side to cough up what you’d managed to inhale during your panic. Kaz soon made his way over to you, rubbing your back gently as you grasped the wall for support, before falling back against it, still shaking with the sobs that left your lips. You soon felt Kaz move his hand hesitantly to the back of your neck, before taking a deep breath and pulling you in closer to him, holding you tightly.

“I’m sorry…” You cried, taking the collar of his soaked jacket into your hands as he shushed you. “I’m so, so sorry, Kaz, I- I ruined everything. I’m so useless-” You buried your head in his jacket as he shook his head, staring down at you with as serious a stare as he could manage, despite his heart rate going at 30 miles per hour.

“No, no, Y/N, stop it. You didn’t ruin the heist. It was doomed from the start, it was a stupid idea anyway. All that matters is that you’re safe, do you understand me? You’re alright, and you’re with me, and nothing’s going to happen to you.” Kaz’s voice managed to soothe your racing heart and mind, and your gentle nods soothed his own as he dared to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

That was how the Crows found you both that night. Kaz wrapped protectively around you, every so often placing gentle kisses to your hair, and you, his star, encased safely in his arms, having never felt so much love from anybody in your life.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #x reader #self insert #reader insert #six of crows #soc #shadow and bone #leigh bardugo

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moonsaver · 2 months

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Good day moon! Okay I normally don't do asks when it comes to yandere cause it's not my usual thing but seeing the last post you made of Yan!Sunday and his darling, that one where he just desperately wants to have that normalcy in their relationship but couldn't ever have it because of what he's done, made me think of something rather angsty; like how the darling's backlashes against his affections would probably go turn for the worst as time passes on, they don't hate him in a sense because he's really trying hard to not make them hate him and they can see that his love is real (just really fucked up) but that deep urge to hurt the person who took their freedom away is still there, it wouldn't just go away just because he loves them so much that he wouldn't dare to break them. Oh that satisfaction on seeing Sunday looking so hurt after yelling at him, they know it doesn't make them any better than him but at that point, what else is there for them to lose? Maybe in hurting him so subtly, they may find some pity in themselves for him to actually give him some semblance of love but until then, all Sunday ever receives from them are either silent treatment or backlash

Such relationship could only thrive in the worst way possible and maybe Sunday knows that but even then, he still holds out that little (delusional) hope that maybe his darling will still love him someday

Sorry for the rant, it's just that I feel for Sunday but his method will never work and it'll just deeply hurt him and his darling in the end asgfjgsfg also if it's alright, I'd request this but I'll leave it to you with how you write it, be it an imagine or anything else since I'm fine with it!

- Elys

Hello Elys! Im so sorry it took a long time for me to get to your request lol, tons of things got in the way but I remembered this request for a while.

In any case, I feel you've summed it up quite well!

Sunday isn't harsh or as brutal as I imagine him. Unlike my [i have to self advertise here, sorry HAHA] soft yan!blade, Sunday most likely wouldn't even need a bit of working around to be a softer yandere.

He's so loving, it's painful. His love is like despaired poetry for a lover who is still alive, just further than their reach. I imagine his love to be very tender, even as a yandere, if he doesn't become even softer.

And it's hard to convince him he's wrong – mainly because he already knows. But rather that's a bit distorted in his view; instead he thinks it's a wrongdoing against your nature as someone who wants to be free, but correct in the context of the situation rather than actually understanding it is absolutely wrong in general. And he doesn't budge. He's stubborn, almost infuriatingly. And instead of getting angry, I imagine he rather looks disappointed or disgruntled, which somehow does more damage/strikes more fear than anger.

And it's still heartbreaking; frustratingly for both of you, not just yourself.

You lash out, you scream, cry, wail, argue, relentlessly push and resist against him. it's your only way of getting back at him, you're sure as hell you're going to strike the hardest that way. And you relish the hurt you see in the eyes of your captor, but something more sympathetic tugs at you when you see his lovingly sad eyes. It's this cacophony of guilt, frustration, anger, and utter despair at the loss of your freedom. Sunday feels all of it, aswell, and you want to be relieved that he does – if it weren't for the fact he still wasn't letting you go.

He continually withholds your freedom from you. That single injustice to you is enough to weather your patience over time – your anger only burns hotter and hotter, pushing away any semblance of sympathy or reasoning, and it only hurts Sunday more, until you realise what you're doing, and quietly give in to sooth him for the time being. Just a little. Until that little injustice starts bothering you again. It's a toxic cycle.

And it hurts even more when Sunday tries to find normalcy in your relationship; he's trying so hard to be your lover, to hold you gently and bathe you with care, to dry you off and still love you after seeing you bare. He wants to come home and see you smile, be happy, elated that he's there, just as he feels when he sees you. But that's not what happens. His delusions and flimsy expectations are shattered the moment he steps into the dimly lit room, your form refusing to even look at him. The silence is strangely stronger than his hopes.

Anyways, that's all i can think of at the moment. I love angst yandere sunday time.

120 notes · View notes

kalims · 1 year

Text

⊹ sworn secrecy

premise. there has been an increasingly concerning amount of random notes you encounter quite literally everywhere, everyday. of which you can't seem to find who exactly keeps posting these.

when there's little wholesome messages for you wouldn’t you be curious as to who it's from?

after asking around, why does everyone saying different names..

content. gender neutral reader, fluff

characters. dorm leaders

cw. none

note. happy birthday to kween vil

"the first note I ever saw was right outside my locker,"

"oh by the hallway to turn right for the cafeteria? it sounds crazy but riddle rosehearts has been there early, always. maybe you should see if it's him?"

riddle rosehearts

first thought was that the statement of that person was absolutely wrong. you don't care if they've seen riddle around your locker early in school, (of which is actually perfect time to sneak in notes) nope. nu-uh. for the sake of your sanity you refuse to believe it.

if there was a person asking you who'd you'd think it was riddle was last on your list. you're pretty sure the guy literally hates you. why would he even bother to take out the time in his tight schedule to leave a 'you look enchanting today' , 'you're doing great' , or a 'if you're not too fond of these just say so, I don't know how else to express my affection' note in your locker that's just.. bizarre.

with the knowledge that riddle is possibly the same person you're looking for makes your interactions all the more awkward. at this point everyone's noticed the agonizingly dry, and tense silence. did you seriously just ask how the weather is doing?

clearly no one likes you because the teacher somehow got the highest thriving student in academic means to tutor you (who was admittedly failing class lately) so what do we have? more pain!

well that's what you honestly thought.

despite you thinking the sessions are just gonna be 95% anger and impatience it was surprisingly.. calm.

riddle was patient and polite enough to intake sharp breaths to contain a burst that could have possibly pop but you think he held back for your sake.

"my bad.."

"it's fine just. listen," he exhales.

then he just closes his eyes and takes several breaths. like he was calming himself and next thing you know he's going over what he said, slowly, carefully and more simple for you go understand.

after weeks of meeting with him for studying you just decide to ask one afternoon.

"those notes are not from me," riddle says. holding a stony face devoid of anger but a meaningful voice. "but I cherish the time we spend together,"

rarely do you ever see riddle adorn such a gentle face with even softer eyes. so safe to say you're completely stoned after registering the genuineness.

oh wow great. riddle isn't the person giving the notes, but he just hinted that he likes you? or.. well on his way to be cause there's no way the strictest guy in the world would casually say that.

"hey did you see anyone stick a note to my backpack?"

"note? where—oh by that bag, right. sorry I didn't I was picking out herbs for potionology. if it helps the only person around here other than me and you is the savanaclaw dorm leader,"

leona kingscholar

okay this is just crazy. riddle being one of the names being mentioned during your 'investigations' was shocking already to say the least but to hear the name of leona kingscholar get thrown around like that is just bizarre.

seriously? that guy looks like he does not know you even exist. heck, you're pretty sure you're one of those people that he sees, and then forgets. a backround character of some type, him being the one behind the notes is beyond you.

you're not even gonna attempt questioning him about it cause you're sure that all you're gonna get is a dead stare, and possibly, a load of mean words.

so you made up your mind.

leona kingscholar is out of question. therefore you're going to avoid him. surely it's just coincidence that his napping spot is near where you hang out after class, right?

isn't he apart of the magishift club? so why in the hell is he doing in your club room? playing with one of your members and actually beating them?

when you see his bored gaze skim around the room and land on you.. you just blank and wish you never joined the club.

"care for a match? you seem like you've got a smart little brain there," he drawls out, giving the student on the opposite seat a stare and they immediately rush away.

you swore your eye just twitch and he noticed because he just smirked. when you realize he's talking to you, you fumble. "uh—no thank you," your lips twitch into smile before dropping the next second.

his green eyes bore into you. "i wasn't asking,"

in the end you managed to beat him in a close match. clearly, that was your mistake cause now you're in a match with him nearly every time of the day since he's so adamant on beating you now.

one thing you learn is that he doesn't really like to lose. especially, in something he's confident he excels in.

the question lingers in your mind. maybe the timing in the botanical garden was coincidental but how can you think that way now that your encounter in the club room just really proved that theory wrong?

"so it isn't you?"

"no," leona says after a while. "I'd never do that,"

well what now? that's two wrong possible suspects. you thought he was done but no apparently. "I have.. other ways in showing my affection," he narrows his eyes. "take you for example,"

you snap your head to him. "excuse me?"

"oh hey! we met before didn't we?"

"yeah. you asked me about the note but I figured you'd want to know that azul's been.. kind of sketchy lately,"

azul ashengrotto

you know azul very well, contrary to your.. previous encounters. seeing as both of you are in the same club, it's privy to see each other daily and you can say that you're both in good in good, friendly terms but you can say that even asking the question you've asked the other two might just shatter that friendship.

also it's just weird to imply that seeing as azul is one of the people you've told about a note to, just one though and it would be embarrassing if he's actually the sender—and.. you just ranted to him about his notes.

well that's just another theory so!

out of everyone in the club he's probably the greatest. if you managed to beat leona you've no doubt that he can too (well. atleast if he puts his mind to it.)

it would be hard to hide your true intentions from azul. he himself has admitted that he's great at reading people and proved that point to you when he just points out the habits you do during games.

it just so happens you both play regularly hence how he notices.

"I know you're bluffing when your face is oddly serious because I know you're just pretending to be 'unreadable' to mask the results you're faced with,"

and he was completely right because you do shift your face into something stony so he wouldn’t be able to get a read on it but that completely had gone to waste..

it can't be azul, has he admired you all this time?

it can't be azul because he's like a daydream. like a cloud. when you'd go out for a walk, look up and try to grasp it but you can't because it's too far away. too perfect to hold in your hands and cherish so you'd just settle for admiring it from afar.

"I don't subject myself to feelings a lot. I'm a professional and I wanted to keep it that way," azul's face burns at the thought that flashes in his mind and the very next words he's about to say. "but I can't seem to do that with you," he admits.

it feels like he's going insane from every time he tries to not let you win, staying silent when there's a key point you're giving out from your face or when you beam at him.

you stare dumbly feeling your cheeks warm. an indirect confession?! another one?!

"don't you think dorm leader kalim might be the one behind it? I mean, out of everyone in NRC we're a little too prideful for something like that.. well him? isn't he perfect for it?"

"I'm starting to get suspicious with what everyone says,,"

kalim al asim

you know kalim al asim but you're not sure that he knows, knows you. he's like an angel to practically everyone, including you. and he can't exactly remember everyone he spares his kindness to so why should he remember you when all he did was share his 'secret spot' in the library?

you didn't exactly expect kalim to be interested in books, but he just says that he doesn't use it for reading but rather a quiet place to simply relax and bask the silence in.

wow. you suppose even guys like kalim get tired and indulge in a little escape.

you did not want to use his spot cause it's called his for a reason! and it feels like you're literally trespassing but godbless kalim because he really didn't mind and that offer was way too attractive to ignore.

sometimes you question how you even missed that heavenly corner in the library.

you yourself didn't particularly expect to end up in the library yourself but exams were coming up and you didn't want riddle's effort in tutoring you ultimately end up in waste. (also the amount of times he didn't snap at you.)

but—

"hi there! I see you're enjoying the spot I've given you," kalim jokes. inclining you to tear your eyes away from the sentence you've been re-reading far too many times.

kalim is sitting on the other chair which normally you'd be bothered with but this is technically his spot so you don't mind. the fact that he remembers is the least of your worries. "hello. yes, thank you. this place is heaven on earth," you smile.

"right? it's perfect," he shines down a bright smile at you. though blinded by it you still agree. it's right by a window with a great view of the campus, nearly no one is near it so it's really quiet, and. surrounded by cute little plants!

you bid kalim goodbye after he says that he just wanted to check if you've really been using it. seeing as he's got a class upcoming (which he actually almost forgot but good thing you asked if he just got out of one.)

in the end he drops by and chats with you everytime he can. sometimes you're the one running into him at the same spot, and he just so happened to arrive earlier.

you can say that you've gotten to be good friends.

to the point where his friend jamil comes and has to drag him away because apparently he's been skipping a lot of stuff just to come and talk to you and you've no doubt he's being serious when he yells that he'll come back as he's being hauled away by jamil and then reprimanded by the staff of the library.

"I've come back," he huffs proudly. kalim smiles brightly at you. "also sorry, I accidentally read a note that was stuck on your umbrella,"

... that one was, 'i really like you' wasn't it? if kalim's saying that then doesn't it mean he isn't the sending them?

then he laughs, "I'd have to agree with them! I do like you a lot too!"

your jaw drops. how can he say that so casually?!

"what do you mean?"

"maybe you're looking at the wrong places? maybe all these people being there are actually just coincidence. they're obvious guesses, no? if you asked me I'd look for people that usually have zero presence. they're the most sneakiest,"

idia shroud

huh.

okay you admit that was one of the smartest thing they've ever said even though they made.. like what? 2 wrong guesses on whoever? at most you don't really know a lot of people that could count as zero presence cause..

nearly everyone you know has some type of charm that attracts attention to them, be it intentional or not they have certain aspects that demand not to be ignored.

though in terms of reputation only one person comes into your mind.

... getting into ignihyde is one thing, coaxing the dorm leader to actually come talk to you, socialize is a whole 'nother story.

so you just settle for asking ortho for his game ID in a game you do play. you've only talked with idia a few times buy enough for you to say that you're atleast acquaintances.

most of the time you meet with him is pure coincidental. since both of your classes align to end and the others next one is the one the previous was in (to make it short you'd basically just switch rooms) so you'd stumble upon the other on the way there.

well not literally idia but just his floating tablet. you're nice enough to spare him a greeting and a little small talk even though most of the time it's you speaking.

to be fair he did stop to listen to you I that counts for anything at all.

ortho was nice enough to let him know about the pending request. probably because idia would have just ignored it. so for that you've officially succeeded in becoming friends with the.. top 1 player world wide with thousand of hours in the game.

you don't mention it when you join him for coop mode but the only thing that pops in your mind is;

"how do you get that crown?"

the chat bubble appears, then disappears before a message pops up. "srsly? this was literally a free item a few years ago *sighs* you only needed to log in to get it,"

you grumble. "I wasn't playing the game at it's release," no life. you twitch to add.

you've joined idia so many times that even he is comfortable enough to pop into your world and start picking out the flaws in your realm. he was all; "who even uses green and red together?"

you protested with great offense. "it was christmas back then!!"

he robs you of the materials you need which you regret telling him at all and leaves the one you don't need. (you don't know if it's all good or not because he let you rob his in turn and gave you 10x the amount you need saying this was from robbing other players)

you've never really envisioned getting so close to a person before. well, atleast you feel close to idia but you're not sure if he feels the same or would even like you admitting that.

which you won't! for the sake of your sanity and relationship.

he takes about a full two minutes to write a reply. deleting, re-writing it several times before he decides on one. "I knew someone as rare as you would get a lot of fans," it read. "I'm a fan of you too. I'm the biggest fan!" coupled with an angry emoji.

and there's the very same crown you liked the day you met in his world.

(the rarest item currently)

you don't wanna assume but the pack of sticky notes that tall, horned person just stuffed in their pocket is really familiar. almost like it's the one you receive everyday, only difference is that theirs is blank, and yours are filled with messages.

"hey! you—yes you! could I uh.. you're my friend now,"

malleus draconia

usually you're more level-headed than adopting random strangers in the halls and claiming them as your friend but after all the guys that were apparently not the perpetrator? you're pretty desperate at this point.

it was.. not like you at all, that you'd admit but it just stuck out to you (haha stuck-stick) so much that it was hard to ignore seeing as it was the same size.

(and no, the sticky notes for you aren't the bland, square ones but some type of luxury brand you're not sure yourself. also.. since when did sticky notes even have a fancy variant?)

this guy seemed like he's shocked by your audacity or just.. shocked in general because he stared at you so hard for about a minute straight before slowly saying;

"are you jesting?"

"no," you answer in a heartbeat.

oh well. you do need a new friend to bother and this guy will do.

(social anxiety is scared of this MC fr)

even though the initial shock wore off he smiled pleasantly at you but the surprised look on his face instantly came back when you introduced yourself and asked for his name.

something mischievous flashes in his eyes and you only realize that he's trailing after you without question. "you really don't know who I am?" wait should you?

you deadpan. "uh.. not really. that's why I asked you,"

he just hums.

his dog was really scary. you think his name was sebek but you don't wanna bother remembering when the first thing he gave you was a disturbed look.

tsunotaro (temporary) was a mysterious person by nature. you're by no means slow and is starting to pick the pieces together. was the reason he looked surprised by your sudden claim on him as a friend was because no one would talk to him?

heck. when you invited him to sit next to you in lunch your friends shared a collective glance and gave you some kind of excuse to leave.

the unbothered look on tsunotaro's face makes you question how many times exactly this has happened for him to be so casual about it.

"I'm sad for you," you slump and tsunotaro raises a brow at you.

"are you upset?"

"no—you don't seem to be upset by them blatantly showing that they wanna be around you," honesty! least they could do was be discreet about it. you wouldn't have questioned it if it hasn't been 5 times straight that they've left.

tsunotaro smiles at your look. "do not waste time pondering about it. I'm already used to it so it's alright,"

that's the thing he's supposed to be upset about it.

you shake your head. "since you don't wanna be offended I'll be offended on your behalf and be sad on your behalf,"

you miss the look on his face.

the heart feels so if you're feeling for him aren't you his heart?

eventually you found out that the sticky notes wasn't even malleus' but something a 'friend' of his requested. so he does know people other than you..

you didn't really want to let go of this thing you established so you didn’t, you held onto it in a vice-grip. sure. it might have started even though your intention was just the sticky notes but now that you had gotten to know him why would you let him go?

you're not sure just how exactly you got into this predicament.

he looks at you firmly. "my name is malleus draconia—" he pauses. "and i would like to be yours,"

... you're counting six people that were not sticky note person and somehow now like you too.

"ugh. you again, you're wrong again! I'm never listening to you. nope. my ears are sealed right now so don't even try,"

"oh? my bad then. I have some interesting news to share to you. I've seen vil around your locker lately, and not just lingering! he's actually staring at the notes! suspicious, right?"

end notes

vil schoenheit

okay so the others were clearly proven to be false and you've lost all hope now so you aren't even gonna try investigating this one cause you already know that it's false.

the vil schoenheit is not the sticky notes person.

maybe you're in denial but out of everyone he's the most prominent person. he did not just use his time to write sweet messages for you to read in his spare time does he? if he does he must have a lot of spare time.

WHICH HE DOESN'T.

compared to him you're like a lone star next to a moon. he shines the brightest and will continue to soak up the eyes of everyone else. you're just something people would look at for a second and forget.

meanwhile the beauty of the moon will remain and be admired.

you like to say that you were just being curious when you wake up extra early to linger in a corner where you could peek to see into the hallway where your locker way.

to your surprise he was really there. standing beautifully and staring at the sticky notes in a certain way you can't comprehend.

longing perhaps? a voice in your head suggests but you shake it off. why would he be longing?

you don't know what to do when he turns and meets eyes with you.. and you're.. currently peeking out the corner like you're stalking him.

maybe you hallucinated the flash of amusement in his eyes. "it seems as though I have a fan, won't you come out?" he abandons the locker completely and takes a look at you.

quietly you shuffle over a considerable distance in front of vil.

"oh,"

vil's face flickers in surprise. you feel like you just caught him red-handed.

"I know you,"

"... you do?" he does? you nervously point at yourself. is that even good or bad?

vil pursues his lips and looks down. he looks oddly soft. "we were casted into a movie together," he explains shortly. smiling thinly at the faint memories.

memories of you.

but you don't remember that at all, but it doesn't really give you an explanation as to why he'd gain a sudden interest. you were just a mere co-worker.

"you said you liked me back then,"

what.

he ignores the flabbergasted look on your face. "normally I would have not cared much, I get told that everyday. but you were persistent in your efforts, as annoying as it was,"

okay should you be freaked out right now or horrified? you did not want to hear that because it just made you seem.. obsessed. and you don't wanna get interpreted as that!

especially by someone as amazing as vil.

"you told me you liked me for me, and now I like you for you,"

"so.. you're the person that's been using the sticky notes?" you widen your eyes when he nods.

gods. of course out of all people it just had to be the person you were in denial about.

you furrow your brows. "but that's not enough for you to suddenly reciprocate. it was years ago,"

vil blinks and casually tears off a sticky note stuck in your locker. "I told you already. I don't like the memories of you. I like you,"

vil's lips quirk up into an easy smile, one you could call that you'd be enchanted with. alluring and beautiful in itself. he pulls out a piece of a sticky note, writes in it before sticking it in your chest.

you're too frozen to register the implication.

that he was the sticky notes person.

slowly you pick it off and he watches you. 'this will be the end of this' presumably referring to the notes. 'because there's no need for it when I can express my like for you freely now'

he tilts his head at you. "my, this takes me back. why don't we catch up over a cup of tea?"

you just let him usher you away.

now that you think about it you're just glad that it was way too early in the morning or else another person would have witnessed that.

*rook in the trees rn*: right

uhh... vil was always the og sticky notes guy I was gonna do but I wanted to switch to idia then remembered it's vils birthday rn so ion wanna betray him LMAO

I know it's weird that vil's the sticky note person but I just thought it was sweet that he could do something simple like that

maybe it's the most he can express it? no one would bat an eye on a sticky note besides the person that receives it so it's perfect.

I don't rlly like vil's part it has lot holes IMAO BUT IDK

there's open interpretation. you can always pretend that vil isn't the sticky notes person and another character is LOL.

2K notes · View notes

hayatheauthor · 5 months

Text

Crafting Sad Scenes: Writing Tears and Emotional Depth

Creating authentic emotions is vital for immersive storytelling, which is why I decided to make this series on how to write different emotions. After exploring rage, it's now time to delve into sadness!

When it comes to portraying sadness, delving into various aspects of your character's behaviour and environment can deepen the emotional impact. Here's a guide on how to evoke sadness in your writing using different elements:

Facial Expressions

Downcast Eyes and Furrowed Brow: Describe how their eyes lower and brows crease, reflecting inner sorrow or distress.

Quivering Lips or Trembling Chin: Note the subtle quivers in their lips or chin, indicating emotional vulnerability or the effort to hold back tears.

Pained or Distant Gaze: Highlight a gaze that's distant, unfocused, or filled with inner turmoil, showing their emotional detachment or deep sadness.

Tear-Streaked or Reddened Eyes: Mention tear tracks or reddened eyes, portraying recent or suppressed crying, enhancing the visual impact of their sadness.

Hollow Cheeks and Sunken Eyes: Describe physical changes like hollow cheeks or sunken eyes, reflecting fatigue, despair, or prolonged emotional distress.

Body Language and Gestures

Slumped Shoulders and Hunched Posture: Show their dejected stance with slumped shoulders and a hunched posture, conveying a sense of heaviness or defeat.

Fidgeting or Clasping Hands: Detail how they fidget nervously or clasp their hands tightly, indicating inner turmoil or a need for comfort.

Absentminded Touching of Face or Hair: Mention absentminded gestures like touching their face or running fingers through their hair, reflecting introspection or sadness.

Slow or Listless Movements: Describe their movements as slow, lethargic, or lacking energy, mirroring their emotional state of sadness.

Avoiding Eye Contact or Retreating: Highlight how they avoid eye contact or retreat from interactions, seeking solitude or trying to mask their emotions.

Dialogue and Inner Monologue

Subdued or Monotone Speech: Show their dialogue as subdued, with a monotone delivery or pauses, conveying emotional restraint or inner pain.

Expressing Regret, Loss, or Longing: Use dialogue to express their regrets, sense of loss, or longing for something or someone, adding depth to their sadness.

Internal Conflicts and Self-Reflection: Delve into their inner monologue, revealing their conflicts, doubts, or self-reflection, showcasing the complexity of their emotional journey.

Using Metaphors or Symbolic Language: Incorporate metaphors or symbolic language in their dialogue or thoughts, enhancing the poetic or introspective nature of their sadness.

Environmental Cues and Setting

Bleak or Desolate Settings: Set scenes in bleak or desolate environments, such as abandoned places or dimly lit spaces, amplifying the sense of isolation or melancholy.

Rainy Weather or Gray Skies: Describe rainy weather, gray skies, or somber atmospheres, mirroring their emotional state and adding a reflective tone to the setting.

Diminished Colors or Lack of Vibrancy: Use descriptions of muted colors or a lack of vibrancy in the surroundings, reflecting the character's subdued mood and emotional depth.

Actions and Reactions

Withdrawing from Interactions: Show them withdrawing from social interactions, seeking solitude, or avoiding activities they once enjoyed, highlighting their emotional withdrawal.

Seeking Comfort Objects or Routines: Describe how they turn to comfort objects or routines, such as listening to music, writing, or engaging in familiar activities, as coping mechanisms.

Emotional Outbursts or Sudden Changes: Portray occasional emotional outbursts, sudden changes in behavior, or moments of vulnerability, revealing layers of their sadness.

Impact on Relationships and Interactions: Explore how their sadness affects their relationships and interactions with others, showcasing the dynamics of empathy, support, or misunderstanding.

Types of Tears and Emotional Triggers

Watery Eyes: These tears often accompany moments of deep emotional pain, such as hearing hurtful words, experiencing profound disappointment, or feeling overwhelmed by sadness. Characters may blink rapidly or struggle to maintain eye contact as tears well up, indicating their struggle to contain their emotions.

Quiet Tears: Quiet tears are silent and discreet, often shed in moments of solitude or introspection. They may occur when a character reflects on past memories, grapples with internal conflicts, or experiences a poignant realization. These tears are a subtle yet powerful expression of inner turmoil.

Full-On Sobs: Full-on sobs involve audible crying, heaving breaths, and visible emotional distress. They typically arise from intense grief, loss, physical pain, or overwhelming stress. Characters may find it challenging to speak coherently or control their emotions during such outbursts, revealing the depth of their emotional turmoil.

Tears of Joy: Tears of joy occur in moments of immense happiness, relief, or heartfelt connection. They often accompany scenes of reunions, achievements, or profound expressions of love and gratitude. These tears symbolize emotional release and the overwhelming experience of positive emotions.

Tears of Empathy: Characters may shed tears of empathy when witnessing others' suffering or hearing poignant stories. These tears reflect their compassion, sensitivity, and ability to deeply connect with the emotions of others, adding layers of empathy to their characterization.

Writing Prompts and Exercises

Write a scene where your character experiences a sudden wave of sadness in a public setting, struggling to conceal their emotions.

Craft a dialogue between two characters, one trying to comfort the other who is deeply saddened by a personal loss or disappointment.

Describe a setting that reflects the mood of sadness, using sensory details to evoke emotions and create atmosphere.

Explore a character's inner monologue as they reflect on past regrets or missed opportunities, expressing their profound sense of sadness.

Create a symbolic object or motif in your story that represents your character's journey through sadness, using it as a recurring theme for emotional depth.

Incorporating these elements can enrich your narrative and evoke powerful emotions in your readers, fostering a deeper connection to your characters and their emotional journeys.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks?

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey!

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martiansodas-blog · 2 years

Text

Talk me through it

Your sexual experiences were never a priority for your partners. They never even cared for you when it was over. When your friend Joel finds out, he wants to be the one to change that.

Joel Miller x reader

Contents: Smut, age gap, friends to lovers, huge praise kink, aftercare, fluff.

Authors note: My first fic in a few years

Your body in Jackson but your mind a million miles away, you were daydreaming about a man two decades your senior.

What did his hands feel like after a hard day of work? Coarse and dry most likely.

But we’re they gentle when they came in contact with someone else? When they were taking off someone’s clothes…

Snap out of it

He’s simply a regular at the bar. An acquaintance. And even that was pushing it. The only people he truly softened for was Ellie and Tommy.

You gaze at the clock : one hour left. The last hour is always the longest. Most customers had filtered out and you were cleaning with your coworker Amanda.

“How did your date go?” You asked

“Didn’t know if he was my type at first, but after he ate me out I decided he was.”

You tried to chuckle with her but your body cringed.

“You enjoy that?” You asked embarrassed.

It seemed like everyone liked it but you. Was there something wrong with you? Dumbfounded Amanda looked back at you.

“You don’t?”

“I don’t know, receiving head is just…boring. It’s not painful, it’s not exciting, it’s just meh. I’d rather move on to the main event, ya know?”

Her expression didn’t change.

“What are you talking about!? Receiving is practically the only thing that makes being born female worth it.” You both laughed as you stood on your tip toes to put a glass away.

Your words made Joel’s whole body stiff.

One night with me. One night with me and I’ll give you the head you deserve. Stupid boys your age don’t know how to pleasure a woman.

He couldn’t say that tho, especially not in public. Hell go for something calmer.

“Maybe you just haven’t been with an experienced enough person.”

You jolt around in shock. You had no idea until now he was in the bar, let alone listening to your conversation.

“Um, yeah, maybe. It’s not a big deal for me.”

You shrugged the topic off and quickly turned around making yourself busy. You went beat red knowing the most attractive man in town heard about your sex life, or lack thereof.

It’s a big deal for me, you’re torturing me here.

Joel decided he shouldn’t say anything else and risk making you uncomfortable, it wasn’t his intention. Without saying another word he headed home.

“Maybe he’s right, maybe you should have a night with someone older.” Amanda said in a suggestive voice. When you laughed this time it was out of awkwardness.

“Good one, I don’t think so. Im not one for one night stands. Plus, in a commune this size, Ive had a good look around and haven’t been attracted to any guys.”

Lie.

You and Joel were on good terms. You don’t use the word ‘friends’ because Joel isn’t really friends with anyone. At least he wouldn’t say that. He doesn’t let his walls go down enough for that. But he does care about his inner circle and that’s obvious.

You could tell you were one of the people he softened for. Mainly it was Tommy and Ellie, but somehow you always managed sneak your way in there. Most of the reason being you were giving him drinks.

Your affection for him was one sided, but it didn’t matter. He was never going to find out. Your crush just gave you something to look forward to during work.

• • •

It’s an hour before closing and Joel had yet to come in. Odd. Maybe he was under the weather today.

Pulling you from your thoughts was the bell of the door opening.

Speak of the devil

“Hey! Was wondering when you’d show up.”

He smiled at you. Thats rare. He liked a little too much that you wanted to see him. He wanted to see you too, he just still not good at expressing his emotions and letting people in.

“Whiskey?” You assumed.

“Actually, I was thinking of not drinking here tonight.”

The smirk on his face showed that he had a plan but you couldn’t figure out what in the world it was.

Why would he come to a bar if he wasn’t going to drink?

“How about I be the bartender for once. I hope that’s not forward of me to ask, but would you like to come by my place after your shift? If you’re too tired I understand-“

“Yes that sounds great, yes.” You could hear your smile in your voice.

“Alright then, peach. You know which house is mine. See ya then.” He got up and walked away.

Peach. He’d never called you that before.

Yes, you did know which house Joel lived in, but you’ve never been in it. You wondered what kind of decorations he hung up. Did it smell like him? You could barely stand still the remainder of your shift.

You have to put away your school girl crush.

• • •

As soon as it hit the hour you threw off your apron and went into the bathroom to freshen up.

You wished makeup survived the apocalypse, just a little to make your eyes pop.

What are you doing? He’s not your boyfriend.

You really must stop letting your mind wander. You ran your fingers through your hair and tried to get the smell of spilt beer off you. You don’t know what to expect. You’ve never hung out with Joel like this.

A few minutes later you’re knocking on his door. Nearly vibrating with nerves.

He opens it and

God

There’s that enchanting smile again.

It’s contagious. For a few seconds you two just gaze at each other with grins.

“Hey” you said shyly

“Glad you came, come on in.”

He opened the door as far as it went and you stepped in.

Definitely Joel Millers place.

Not much decorations, but his presence is here. Things Ellie has made for him hung around the living room. Things that survived of his from before the apocalypse. It felt homey. It felt safe.

He led the two of you into the living room. When your legs hit the couch you let out a sigh.

There were already two cold beers and glasses of water on the coffee table in front of you. Normally you don’t like to drink because you’re around it almost everyday and the smell gets annoying. But with Joel it seemed fun.

You both picked up your bottles and instead of making small talk or clinking the drinks together, you just nodded at each other and sipped.

Oh wow, this was actually kind of good. Where did he get this from? You groaned as it warmed your body.

“Haven’t been able to rest that much today. Work was busy. This is nice, Miller.”

He shifted closer to you. Closer than a acquaintance would normally sit. Not that you’re offended, you almost feel flattered. Joel speaks in actions.

“As long as you don’t go tellin people I’m nice.” He joked

“I like nice Joel.” Your voice wasn’t light anymore. “I hope I get to see more of him.”

You knew once those words came out of your mouth that they pushed a boundary. It’s a miracle anyone in this type of world is nice. It’s not an expectation you have anymore.

Your sentence didn’t seem to bother him, though. He stared at you for a few beats. He scooted once again until your knees touched. You’d never been this close to him, it was making your face get hot.

You both seem to have fallen into a comfortable silence, studying each other. There are details on his face you’ve never seen before. He pulled off facial hair like no other. His beard a mix of white, gray and brown.

You don’t know how long it stayed like this, but when you looked up at him to feel out the situation, he wasn’t looking back at you.

He was looking at your lips. You assumed they were dry or you had something on them. Instinctively you licked them.

“Don’t do that to me.” He whispered.

Your heart stopped.

“What?”

Instead of answering he put his hands on each side of your face. You made eye contact and thought you must be dreaming.

I’ve had dreams of him before, this must be another one.

But no. You can smell the drink he had and feel his big hands.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. You didn’t need time to think.

“Yes.”

In milliseconds your lips touched.

If this is a dream I never want to wake up.

The kiss starts gentle. Feather light. Sweet. Your noses bumping into each other. Not at all what you expected from Joel Miller.

You press your face into his to make the kiss more intense, but he puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you where he can be tender.

You pull away. Both taking a moment to process.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t want him. Especially after that kiss.

“I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

He breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen. Any nerves or unfamiliarity between you two is gone.

“Com’ere”

Now you’re both giggling and hugging. So happy that feelings have been confessed.

Your head nuzzled into his neck gave the perfect opportunity to whisper in his ear.

“You’re not going to break me. I want you to kiss me like I’m not delicate.”

Something snapped in him.

Maybe it was your warm breath on his ear, maybe it was that you were close enough to straddling him but not there yet. Maybe it’s because he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, no, on earth.

He grabs your face with more force this time. Kissing you aggressively. You enjoyed how his fingers dug into your jaw. You gasped and he took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours.

He grabbed your legs and settled you over him. It was obvious he was strong but goddamn. He lifted a fully grown woman like it was nothing. It made a fire start in your lower belly.

“I need you. I need you right here on this couch.”

You didn’t respond. Too drunk on him already. You knew once his cock touched you there’d be no thoughts left in your brain.

He chuckled at your state, snapping his fingers to get your attention.

“Sweetheart are you with me?”

“Yeah sorry, I just can’t believe I’m doing this with you. You’ve already made me feel better than any guys I’ve been on dates with and-” your words got muffled by you taking off your shirt. You went braless today.

Now Joel was the speechless one. Staring at your chest. Running his hands up and down your sides.

She isn’t real. She can’t be.

“You’re so … beautiful. Now I really can’t wait, darlin.”

With the same urgency as before he picks you up and laid you out on the couch. Kissing your stomach, not giving you time to process.

He continues kissing down your body while unbuttoning your jeans. He rips them off along with your underwear in one motion.

Jesus, fuck.

“You’re already dripping for me, aren’t you babe?”

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

He lets out a noise that can best be described as feral.

“But, um, you don’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal to me.”

The man looked up at your from between your thighs.

“Will you let me have a taste? If you say stop, I’ll stop.”

“…Okay.”

“Mmm, let me show you how a real man makes you feel.”

All apprehension and doubts you had floated away. Joel licked up both sides of your folds slowly, and you swore you could cum right then.

Your core fluttered around nothing. You needed it again and again and again. He was taking his time with you. Mapping your body out. His tongue making sure to know every inch of you.

The deeper his tongue went, the more your body relaxed. You don’t think it has ever relaxed this much.

The house filled with sinful noises. Your moans, him lapping against you, the couch cousins being gripped.

When he groaned it sent vibrations through your whole body, pushing you closer to the edge.

He went back to licking you from bottom to top. Flattening his tongue as much as possible. Leaving a kiss on your clit before going to the other side.

I love it when he does that. God.

He started to pick up his pace. Inserting his tongue as deep as it goes. Eating you out like a starved man. And he was. You were his new favorite meal. He’s perfectly fine with not getting laid tonight and doing this instead.

“Fuck please- ohh-”

He loves that he can make you sound like that. It makes his cock beg to get out of his pants.

“Joel,” you whimpered out, grabbing his hair.

“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me. You’re the sweetest fuckin thing.”

His words were sweet but his tone was filthy. It made your back arch. He knew you were close. He kicked it up a notch and inserted a finger in you.

You gasped at the size and feel. You could finally clench around something and your body was so happy.

“Fuck it feels so good! I’m close.”

I know you are

“You’re doing so good.”

He added a finger and moved them in a come hither motion.

You were done for. His calloused hands bringing you to release. He kept pumping in and out of you, getting all he could of your liquid. When he saw you regaining your breathing he removed his hand.

Laying there for a few minutes with half lidded eyes, you felt like you were on drugs. You were trying to find your composure but your body wouldn’t stop tingling.

The man who just gave you your best orgasm crawls up and appears in your view.

“Hey there sweetheart.”

He has the biggest smirk on his face, arms on either side of you. You don’t care. You’d give everything up if it meant you’d get more of his talent in your future.

“That was incredible.” You exhale

“For me, too.”

In what was becoming classic Joel Miller fashion, he presses the gentlest of kisses to your lips, then rests his forehead against yours.

“Did I wear you out?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I have a lot planned.”

You bite your lip in anticipation.

“Oh yeah, cowboy?”

He liked the nickname.

“Yeah, but I prefer to fuck my pretty lady on my bed.”

With that he stood up and carried you bridal style to his room. It was darker in there with one orange lamp on which made the mood even more sensual. He placed you on his bed and resumed the position he was in before.

“I’m gonna make sure you feel me tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You let out a whimper. Crashing into another kiss.

It was his turn to take off clothes.

You hastily unbuttoned his flannel and threw it across the room. He would laugh at your urgency if he wasn’t just as bad.

You smooth your hand over his new bare skin. Soft with scars. You reached his belt and he pushed your hands away to do it himself. Taking the belt then his jeans off much faster than you could’ve.

You stared at his outline, unable to mask your expression. You can tell he’s big without even seeing it yet. By the smirk on his face, he knows it too. You were really boosting his ego tonight.

“You gonna gawk all night or should I take it out?”

Fuchsia creeping onto your cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve been with anyone your caliber before.” You say meekly, still looking at his clothed cock.

He bring his face right above yours and tilts your chin so your eyes meet.

“Sweet girl, I’ll be gentle. I’ll start slow for you.”

You’re reassured. You feel safe with him.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He brings his lips to meet yours once more. Not breaking it while he tugs off his boxers.

Your breath quickens as you get nervous again. He immediately takes notice and strokes your cheek. Caring about you in every touch.

You feel the head of his cock meet your entrance. Your head falls back against the pillows. He takes this as a sign to push in a few inches deeper.

“That’s my girl.”

Your gasps like angels singing. Your legs squeezing around me because you need more.

Joel goes like this for several minutes. Pushing in, letting you adjust, making sure he doesn’t immediately cum, then pushing again.

You needed movement. Unable to control the pleas that left your mouth.

“Joel, fuck me. I can take it. Stretch me out.”

He can’t say no to you. Especially when you’re like this.

He pulls almost completely out of you then slams back in. Going from 0 to 100. His tip touching your cervix.

He was reaching depths of you no man ever had before. You couldn’t help but be loud.

“I know baby, I know. Let it all out.”

His words made you moan even more. You’re so turned on it got caught in your throat. No one had ever talked you through it before. No one had said such dirty things to you while making you feel this good. No one has made you feel as good as you deserved.

“So good. So good for me.”

You were so wet it was seeping out of you and onto the sheets. You’ve had the briefest feel of him and are already addicted. You rolled your hips into him and hooked your legs around his waist. Instantly he groaned at the feeling.

“Just like that baby, there you go.” His low voice registered in your ear. You always admired the sound of his voice but you never thought it’d be praising you. It was a fucking drug.

He kissed you hard on the mouth and it made the little bit of your body you had control over go limp. He took this opportunity to take your hands and pin them together above your head. It turned you on so much, your back began to arch. Anyone within a ten mile radius would be able to hear you.

Joel had to focus to get a complete sentence out because of how tight you were clenched around him.

“You sound so good. I love hearing how I make my girl feel. You’re so spent on my cock, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Of course you are. Never truly been taken care of, have you?

“N-No.” you whimpered.

“Think you can take more of me, sweet thing?” He let your hands go so he could caress your cheek.

You were nervous but you nodded.

“Good girl.” He smirked at you when he said it. He loved how much power he had over you.

He grabs your legs and put them over his shoulder. With intense speed starts fucking you again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he pulled obscene noises from your mouth.

“Oh god oh god”

“That’s my girl. I love being buried in your perfect cunt.”

Your back was arching, your fists were gripping the sheets and your clit was throbbing. Your orgasm was nearing quickly.

Your moans got higher and closer together as your legs squeezed around him.

“Words baby, use your words.”

“Fuck, I’m close. Oh I’m close, oh Joel please. It feels so fucking good.”

He knew exactly what you needed. He circled your clit with his rough thumb and continued to thrust into you hard.

“Good girl, cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

“Oh god oh god-”

You came harder than you ever have before. Leaving a mess on and beneath you. Your ears have a light ringing in them and you were seeing stars. You couldn’t even register if Joel was still near you until you felt a warm washcloth bringing you back to reality.

You opened your eyes and saw him. Someone you knew now you couldn’t live without.

He delicately rubbed one of your legs with one hand and cleaned you up with the other. Making sure you wouldn’t be uncomfortable if you fell asleep right there, which after that experience, was likely.

His actions are a huge juxtaposition to his reputation. He is not stoic and harsh and self centered. He is caring and affectionate and thoughtful.

You smiled up at him while half asleep.

“Thank you.” You managed to choke out. Your voice was half gone.

“Of course, darlin. It’s only the decent thing to do.”

He tossed the cloth on the floor and placed a soft blanket under where you both came. He’d wash the sheets later.

“No guy I’ve been with has really given me aftercare before…”

For some reason saying that was more venerable than the act you just did with him. Your face feels hot.

“You deserve so much more than what’s been given to you. And I don’t just mean with sex.”

You knew if either of you said much else you’d burst into tears. You made grabby hands at him and the two of you fell into a warm cuddle, touching as much of each others skin as possible.

“Goodnight, cowboy.”

He kisses your forehead.

“Goodnight, peach.”

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