𝕮𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖊 𝕾𝖒𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘

Needing Her | M.H.

[Minor Smut]

The silence of the evening hung heavy between you. You had barely spoken a word since you'd walked into the room, your mind tangled in a storm of emotions that you couldn't quite articulate. It wasn't that you didn't want to talk; it was just that the words didn't come. They got stuck somewhere deep inside you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to pull them free.

Maria noticed, of course. She always did.

She always seemed to know when something was wrong, even when you tried your best to hide it. She could sense it in the way your shoulders slumped, in the tension that laced your movements, in the quiet that enveloped you. And she didn't ask questions. She didn't push you to explain.

She just stayed close.

Her presence was a grounding force, steady and unwavering, as if her very being could hold you up when you were too exhausted to stand on your own. She waited. She always waited for you to open up when you were ready. And even though you weren't ready, there was something about her silence that made it easier to breathe, made the heavy weight inside your chest feel just a little less suffocating.

But even that wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough to quiet the storm inside of you, and it wasn't enough to calm the deep ache that seemed to be spreading throughout your entire body. It wasn't enough to make the storm of emotions you couldn't name feel like something you could control.

Instead of speaking, you leaned into her. It was the only thing you could manage, the only thing that felt like it might give you some kind of relief, even if it was temporary.

Maria was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with those sharp, knowing eyes, waiting for you to say something. To do something. But you couldn't find the words. Instead, you knelt in front of her.

You felt the tremble in your hands as you rested them on her thighs. It was subtle, but she caught it—the way your fingers twitched ever so slightly, the way your body was slightly off balance, as if you were fighting the urge to fall apart.

Maria's brow furrowed with concern, and she reached out, gently cupping your face. "Hey," she said softly, her voice as calm as ever. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head. You couldn't find the words. Your lips parted, but nothing came out, the weight of it all making it feel impossible to explain. "I just..." you murmured, your voice cracking. "I need you."

You couldn't look at her, couldn't meet her gaze, because you knew she would see everything—the rawness, the fear, the pain that you hadn't even been able to face yourself. "Please, let me do this," you whispered. "I need to feel close to you."

There was hesitation in her eyes, but it was brief. Her concern was palpable, but so was her love for you. It was the kind of love that didn't come with strings attached, the kind of love that never asked for anything in return, the kind of love that just wanted to see you safe, to see you okay.

But she didn't stop you.

She nodded gently, her fingers brushing against your cheek before she leaned back slightly, giving you space to move between her legs.

Without another word, you pressed your lips to the inside of her thigh. The kiss was slow, tentative, as if testing the waters, trying to ground yourself in the softness of her skin. She smelled like her—familiar and comforting—and it was the only thing that made you feel like you could breathe for a second, even though your chest was tight and your thoughts were in chaos.

The warmth of her skin underneath your lips, the way her body responded to you—it was familiar, soothing in a way that nothing else could be. You needed this. You needed her. You needed something to hold onto, something to drown out the pain that threatened to swallow you whole.

Her breath hitched when your kisses deepened, your tongue grazing her skin as you traced the lines of her body, moving slower now, your desperation growing with each passing second.

But it didn't make the ache inside you go away.

The storm inside you only seemed to grow louder, the overwhelming sense of loss and fear clawing at you with every move you made. You tried to drown it out with your touch, with your need, but the pain wouldn't quiet, no matter how hard you tried.

Maria's body tensed under you as you worked her with your tongue, and you could feel her hands moving, her fingers tangling in your hair. You couldn't tell if it was the pleasure she was feeling or the way your own movements were starting to become frantic. You could only feel the ache growing stronger, louder, as the tears threatened to spill over.

And then they came.

You couldn't hold them back any longer. The sobs came out of you, muffled against her skin as you pressed closer, as if you thought that pushing yourself harder would somehow make the pain go away.

But it didn't.

It only made it worse.

Her hand tightened in your hair, pulling you gently away from her, and for a moment, you thought she would say something—maybe tell you to stop or ask you what was wrong. But instead, she just whispered, "Stop." Her voice was gentle, but insistent. "Look at me."

You shook your head, refusing to meet her gaze. Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, the ache in your chest unbearable now. "I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice breaking as you tried to explain what you couldn't fully understand yourself. "I just... I wanted to make you feel good."

You didn't even know if she heard the rest. Your voice cracked as you continued, barely able to get the words out. "I wanted to forget for a little while."

Maria's hands were on you immediately, pulling you up and onto the bed. She didn't ask questions. She didn't try to force you to explain anything you weren't ready to say. She just held you.

Her arms wrapped around you as she pulled you close, holding you against her chest as her fingers gently stroked your hair. She pressed soft kisses to your temple, each one a balm against the fire burning inside you.

"You don't have to do that," she murmured. "You don't have to give me anything when you're hurting like this. Let me take care of you."

The sobs came harder now, and you collapsed against her, your body wracked with grief as everything you had been holding inside spilled over. You couldn't stop it. You couldn't stop the tears, the sobs, the suffocating weight of it all.

She held you through it, never letting go, never pulling away. Her touch was steady and unwavering, a lifeline in the midst of the storm. She murmured words of comfort over and over, her voice a constant reassurance that you weren't alone, that it was okay to feel this way.

Her hands soothed the chaos inside you, gentle and slow as they ran through your hair, as they rubbed circles on your back, as if she were trying to ground you, to remind you that you were still here. That you were still hers.

Eventually, your sobs quieted, and the tension in your body began to melt away. You were exhausted—emotionally, physically, every part of you drained. But even as your body relaxed against her, as the weight of your sadness started to lift, you still felt it.

The ache hadn't gone away.

But you weren't alone anymore.

Maria tilted your face up, her thumb brushing away the tears that still clung to your cheeks. She kissed you then, soft and gentle, a promise that she would be there for you through it all.

"You're allowed to need me too," she whispered, her forehead resting against yours. "Let me be here for you."

And for the first time that night, you felt like maybe, just maybe, it would be okay.

<3