#I’ll just be like I’m not sick and expect it to leave my body

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 4

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Jake spends the night and is there to comfort you after another nightmare.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (f receiving). Mentions of medical stuff, hints of postpartum depression, probable naval inaccuracies, probable medical inaccuracies, mentions/memories of losing a spouse.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

“Which one is the shampoo?” Jake asks from behind you in the shower.

“This one,” you reply, handing him the bottle over your shoulder. “Oh, you don’t have to-“

“I want to,” Jake interrupts as he begins to wash your hair. “Besides, I’m the reason you had to shower.”

You laugh, remembering the horror on his face when he realized there was cum in your hair.

“It’s fine,” you sigh as his fingers massage your scalp, “but I’ll let you keep going; that feels amazing.”

“Mmm, good,” his cock twitches against your ass but he makes no move to take things further as he turns you to rinse. “Conditioner?”

You knock over one of Drew’s toys as you hand him the bottle and your stomach turns unpleasantly as it brings you back to reality.

This is too intimate.

“Wait, I can-“

“Let me,” he murmurs. The rumble of his voice makes you shiver. “When’s the last time you let someone take care of you?”

Before Andy got sick. Before he died and took a piece of you with him.

“I don’t remember,” you lie, eyes closing as he works the conditioner through your hair.

“Just friends,” he reminds you, “no strings, no expectations.”

“Just friends,” you agree.

He works a moan out of you when his thumbs push into the muscles of your neck.

“You’re so tense,” he observes before turning you again to rinse.

You hum in agreement and let him wash you next.

You reach for him after, hot and hard between his legs but he stops and gently pulls your hand away. “Don’t need a repeat of earlier,” he smiles against your kiss.

You whimper; still worked up from earlier and knowing he’s that affected by you has more arousal pooling between your legs.

“I wanna take care of you first,” he says, pulling back reluctantly. “In bed, where I can take my time.”

You nod. That sounds good too.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

You give him a questioning look a few minutes later as he lays a clean towel on your bed, clad only in his underwear.

“Figured you don’t want this all over your bed,” he explains, holding up a lotion bottle from your bathroom. “Lay down, I’ll give you a massage.”

“Okay,” you reply softly as you drop your towel, biting back a smile as he sucks in a breath. Like he hadn’t just seen you naked moments earlier.

It’s your turn to inhale sharply when he climbs over you, resting his weight on your upper thighs.

“This okay? Am I too heavy?” He asks, pausing as he warms the lotion between his palms.

“No, you’re fine,” you murmur, resting your head on your crossed arms. “Oh God, Jake.”

“Good?” The smile is evident in his voice as he begins on your upper back.

“Yes,” you moan, drunk on the feeling as his thumbs dig into the taut muscle. “So fucking good.”

You melt into the bed as he continues, the long-present tension leaving your tired body. Occasionally, his hard-on brushes against your ass as he works but much to your dismay, he doesn’t linger. You’re glad he put down a towel; between your legs is soaked.

“Perfection,” he murmurs and you gasp when he leaves a love bite on your ass.

“Jake!” You admonish but you arch your back in a silent request out for more.

He chuckles and leaves a matching one on the other cheek.

You bite your lip as even more wetness coats your thighs. It feels like he’s marking his territory and you like it.

He lifts himself off your thighs and guides you over to your back.

When you pull him down to bring his lips to yours for a kiss, he stops holding himself back and ruts against where you want him most.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips before kissing down his jaw. “Now.”

“N-not yet,” he stutters when your teeth worry the skin where his shoulder and neck meet. “Gotta taste you again first.”

And with that, he begins to slide down your body before you can protest, drawing the peaked bud of your nipple into his mouth. He lingers there; alternating between each breast sucking, pinching until you’re guiding him further south.

He presses kisses along the way until he finally gives you a long, languid lick that has you gripping the sheets. After he settles between your legs, he takes your hands and guides them into his hair. A sinful sound leaves him when you tug on his locks, gently pulling him where you want him to focus his efforts.

“Yesss,” you breathe when he circles your clit. You can feel him smiling as he begins to move lower, teasing you. But your hold on his hair tightens, keeping him right where you want him. “No more teasing,” you pant out the order, lifting your head to look at him, “or I’ll make you watch while I get myself off.”

His eyes flutter close as he murmurs “Yes ma’am,” into your pussy before his tongue works your clit with renewed vigor.

“There, like that,” you purr as your head falls back. “Good Jake.”

You don’t miss the way he shudders at your praise and tuck it away to be used again in the future. When he works two fingers inside and curls them to rub your g-spot, any and all thoughts leave your mind as pleasure overtakes you.

“Oh God,” you rasp as your thighs tighten around him, refusing to let go.

He works you through your release; gently flicking your clit. But before you can fully recover he’s already working you towards another.

You soon lose count of how many times he’s brought you to orgasm.

“Could stay there all night,” he murmurs when he finally climbs over you and nods to his lower half. “But I’m gonna cum soon if I keep going.”

You look down and whimper. He’s kicked off his briefs and has taken himself in hand; drops of precum fall onto your heated skin.

He leans for a kiss while your fingers skim down his back. “Fuck,” he hisses when your nails sink into his ass to pull his hips into yours, his cock sliding over your swollen bundle of nerves before catching on your entrance.

“W-wait,” he gasps, pulling his hips away from the temptation of sinking into the inviting heat of your body. “Almost forgot a condom.”

Good thing one of you is thinking straight.

You grab one of your pillows and place it under your hips as you watch him sit back on his heels to roll it on before he’s back over you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he sinks into you with a shaky exhale.

“You feel sofuckinggood,” he rasps as he begins fucking you with deep, steady strokes.

You hum in agreement, unable to form words as your release is rapidly approaching from the way he grinds against your clit with each thrust.

His rhythm begins to falter as he tries slowing down to wait for you but you’re already there; your nails score a path down his back as you cum with a soft cry.

His arms wrap around you and he holds you tight as he follows you over the edge with a breathy groan.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Jake’s phone pings a few times while he’s in the bathroom followed by yours not long after.

Rooster: The squad is getting together tomorrow at the beach. Do you want to come? I’ll bring Drew and you can meet us there. Bob and Callie are bringing their little girl so he won’t be the only kid.

Reese: Sure, sounds fun. What time?

Rooster: 12ish.

Reese: I’ll be there. What are you guys up to tonight?

Rooster: 🤐

Reese: 🖕🏻

Rooster: 😘 stop worrying about us and go get some 🍆. Did you download Tinder yet like I told you?

You snort and put down your phone just as Jake flops down next to you on his stomach.

“What’s so funny?”

“Bradley,” you explain, turning on your side. “He’s been getting after me to start dating again.”

“I know a guy,” he teases before picking up his phone. “You’re coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, meeting Drew and Bradley,” you confirm, wincing as you trail your fingers over the red, raised lines your nails made on his back. “You might want to wear a shirt.”

“What? Why?” He asks as he looks over his shoulder. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, I got a little carried away,” you apologize, “…again. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Next time?” He asks, hopeful.

Yes, next time.

“We’ll see,” you tease.

He smiles and leans over for a kiss, making the butterflies stir in your belly. “You don’t have to be careful with me.”

“No?” You ask, putting a little pressure on the marks you left, enjoying his shiver.

“No,” he confirms, eyes half-lidded on yours. “I like it.”

“Like what?” You ask, needing to hear more.

“Like when you lose control. You’re always so…” he pauses as he searches for the words, “put-together and composed. Makes it even hotter when you fall apart. And I…I don’t know,” he blushes as he hesitates, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, “you can tell me.”

“I like that you’re assertive; a little bossy,” he smiles then exhales before looking away. “I think…I mean, fuck. This is embarrassing. I’ve never told anyone this,” he laughs, flushing further. “I like…when it hurts sometimes.”

His eyes snap to yours when the smallest whimper escapes through the lips you’re biting.

“I’m into that too,” you admit, heat rising to your face now. “Never had the chance to explore it, but, maybe…we could? As friends, of course.”

“Of course,” he breathes before turning as you straddle him.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Panic overwhelms you as Andy’s casket is lowered into the ground; your tears flowing so constant it feels like you’re drowning. Mortification is a close second as you feel the tingling of a let-down and milk begins to leak, soaking the front of your ill-fitting black dress from the way Drew screams in your arms; starving for your milk and feeding off the thick blanket of grief that surrounds him.

“You can feed him, honey,” your mother-in-law, Tina, whispers gently from beside you. “No one will mind. It’s okay.”

More tears fall as you just shake your head. You were just getting the hang of breastfeeding and the last thing you need right now is for everyone to see your engorged breasts.

Your head pounds as you try to soothe him, to keep him quiet so his friends and family can grieve in peace. You’re just so tired. Anxious thoughts begin to fire in your head at everything you need to do before your maternity leave is over next week. The temptation to send the drafted resignation email in your inbox is becoming is getting more stronger every day.

You can’t do this alone.

You can’t do this without Andy.

Drew quiets from the movement as you hand him wordlessly to Bradley who’s sitting beside you before you rise and step to the edge of the 6-foot hole.

But instead of Andy’s casket at the bottom, there’s nothing; just a black void that perfectly reflects how empty you are inside.

You don’t look back as you let yourself free-fall into the abyss.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

You wake up choking on a sob just as the darkness envelopes you. You reach blindly and instead of your empty bed, Jake’s there, gently wrapping you into his arms.

“It’s okay, Reese,” he soothes quietly. “You’re okay.”

He dries your tears when you eventually relax in his arms. “Do you want-, will you tell me about him?”

“Andy?” You ask, voice croaking.

“Yeah,” he replies as he hands you the bottle of water from your nightstand. “You were saying his name in your sleep. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

You shake your head as you take a drink. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Anything,” he replies, “whatever you’re comfortable sharing. Bradshaw mentions him a lot, about all the dumb shit they’d do. I’d like to hear your version.”

You smile, only imagining the things Bradley has to say before taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

You started by giving him an overview of your rough start in life; the lack of a father and the rocky relationship you had with your mom.

“Sounds like Bradshaw,” Jake laughed when you told him how Bradley played a part of you getting together.

“Andy was my first healthy relationship,” you say, resting your head on his chest. “He never pressured me to get in my pants, he texted first, his parents welcomed me with open arms, I was more than just a pretty face,” you sigh. “I know it doesn’t sound that special but it helped heal the hurt little girl inside me.”

“We got married not quite 2 years later and started trying for a baby. We were so happy.” A big tear escapes as you continue. “Then the weakness started. He had been hiding it for a while and downplayed the severity of it as I started to notice. When his backseater had take over the controls and make an emergency landing there was no more denying it.”

“Damn,” Jake curses softly, understanding how much it had to hurt when they took away his wings.

“We stopped trying to conceive while we waited for a diagnosis, not wanting to bring a baby into the mix when there was so much unknown. I went to the doctor to get on birth control and found out I was already pregnant,” your voice cracks as you remember the warring emotions that flicked over Andy’s face at the news. Joy, sadness, excitement, fear. “We got his ALS diagnosis 3 days later.”

Jake squeezes your shoulder as he waits for you to go on.

“It progressed quickly. Well, we think it did at least; hard to say when we don’t really know how long Andy had been hiding it,” another sigh leaves you before you continue. “He was in a wheelchair halfway through the pregnancy and his parents asked us to move in not long after so Tina could take care of him when I was working. He was no longer able to speak by the time Drew was born. But I was so happy he was able to meet him. He died not even 3 months later.”

“I’m so sorry, Reese,” Jake murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Me too,” you say, voice shaking. “He would’ve been the best dad.”

“Sounds like it,” he agrees. “Bradshaw always says the same thing.”

“I had been dreaming about the funeral, God, I was such a mess. My hormones were all over the place, I hadn’t been sleeping, was barely eating, wouldn’t accept help from anyone, and was supposed to go back to work a week later. To top it all off, I was breastfeeding and when Drew started crying, my milk let down and I leaked through my dress,” you cringe, remembering the way you soaked the fabric. “I was so overwhelmed by grief, I wanted nothing more than to climb in that hole and die too.”

He sniffs and you realize he’s crying too.

“Tina and Ron begged me not to move out after he passed. They wanted to help with Drew so I could finish my degree, insisting that’s what Andy wanted. Bradley started taking Drew for a few hours at a time so I could go to therapy,” You smile. “That’s how their boys' nights started.”

He listens intently as you tell him more, asking questions here and there but soon the steady rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

A/N: started spicy 🌶️, ended with tears 😭 I’m really breaking my damn heart with this one.

It’s going to get kinkier now that Jake admitted he likes when Reese is bossy and roughs him up a little bit 😏

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[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

Thing is I’ll actually try to do something like that Dennis Reynolds “Sickness be gone” thing when I think I feel a cold coming on

[iateyourparents]

red kisses | j.w.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

summary: you got a new lipstick and you just had to prank your boyfriend with it.

warnings: nothing really, just bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language).

an: i got this idea from tik tok but i unfortunately couldn’t find this girl:((

pictures are from pinterest:)

You got a new lipstick. But not any lipstick, it was a color changing lipstick.

At first it was in neutral color and then after few minutes it was starting to get red and redder until it was bloody red.

So of course you had to use this on your lovely boyfriend.

You already pranked him with normal red lipstick and he wasn’t mad but well, now he was making sure you doesn’t have red lipstick on when you kissed him before he was supposed to go out.

Currently Jake was in shower so you quickly took your phone deciding to share this prank with your viewers on instagram later. You recorded a quick intro telling them about your purchase and plan.

Then when you heard that water stopped running you pretended that you still were on the couch with your phone.

„Hi baby.” Jake smiled at you and sat next to you.

„Hi love.” you also smiled at him opening your arms and he gladly laid half of his body on yours and snuggled into you.

You stayed like that a few minutes.

“Go dry your hair babe, we don’t want you to get sick and you have to go in few minutes.” you reminded him. He was supposed to be out with Johnnie in thirty minutes so that was perfect opportunity for your prank.

Jake sighed but did what you said and went to bathroom to use dryer.

„Baby, can you do my hair?” you heard Jake asking.

„Sure.”

Few minutes later he was sitting on the floor in front of you with you brushing his hair. You styled it the way you knew he liked and then he was almost ready to go.

„I’ll go change. I’ll miss you.” he pouted and you giggled quietly kissing the top of his head.

„I’ll miss you too but i’m not sure if Johnnie will be happy with that reasoning.”

„Stupid Johnnie.” you heard Jake muttering under his breath and you only shook your head with small smile while he was getting up from the floor.

He went to yours room and you quickly started recording on your phone and you put on your new lipstick. As you expected, it was almost clear like a lipgloss. You quickly hid your phone and not five seconds after you were done with hiding, Jake was back from the bedroom in new clothes.

You acted like you were taking something from a cabinet in kitchen.

„I have to go.” you didn’t have to look at him to know he had a pout on his lips.

You smiled at him and opened your arms and he quickly ran to you and was snuggling into you.

Few seconds later he took his hands from your back to grab your waist and lift you onto the kitchen counter.

You giggled and took his face in your hands and kissed his lips, he gladly deepened kiss.

When you disconnected your lips you also left kiss on his left cheek and side of his neck. You made sure to press your lips a little harder to leave a lipstick in those places.

„Don’t keep Johnnie waiting.” you lightly patted his ass and he smiled at you.

“I’ll be back soon.” he promised at kissed your forehead and then nose “Bye love.”

“Bye baby, have fun!” you waved at him and he got out.

You took your phone from its hiding spot and you stopped recording.

You waited few minutes and then updated your video with how your lips and places Jake kissed were almost bloody red.

You waited for some message from Jake about your prank but got nothing so you waited for him to be back home.

Finally, some time later when you were watching a film you heard a keys jiggle on the other side of the door so you quickly started recording and pointed phone camera on the door.

Jake came in with wide smile and red lips shaped spot remaining on his neck, but the ones from lips and cheek were gone.

“So I noticed your prank.” he accused pointing his finger at you “How the hell it appeared after I was out?”

You laughed and explained “I bought color changing lipstick.”

He gasped and came to sit next to you.

“I was so shocked when Johnnie told me about lipstick stains because you had no lipstick on.” he pouted and you giggled, but then he smiled widely and pointed at the kiss on his neck “I kept this one and I think I should make a tattoo like this one with your kiss.”

You smiled at him because well, he for sure looked good with this kiss.

“You definitely should.” you nodded and stopped recording to start kissing him and he gladly accepted this.

“But be careful.” he warned when you disconnected your lips “I’ll have my revenge!” he laughed mischievously and you only nodded with small smile.

“Sure love.” and you were back to kissing him.

[viennakarma]

Say something (I'm giving up on you)

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Your husband tells you the truth about Vegas, and it makes your perfect sandcastle crumble.

Word count: 6k

Tags: Female reader, established relationship, wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, mild somnophilia, mentions of pregnancy and children, very very angsty, no hea, not beta read

Relationships: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Notes: To be honest, this is very personal and something I needed to get off my chest before going back to my WIPs lol. Sorry if it's rushed or something, I was just going with the flow. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

Ending 1: moving on

Ending 2: forgiving

Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)

As soon as you got out of the shower, a robe on your body and a towel around your head, you noticed how Lewis was sitting there, looking somewhat defeated.

“Hey, I know this season wasn’t what you expected but I’m sure it will get better,” you muttered, noticing how he was down, you stood between his legs, holding his head, pushing his braids away from his face, “I’m hoping you’ll have a great car next year. I’ll put the kettle on, so we can drink a little tea.”

He didn’t answer as you pecked his lips and went downstairs. You had just turned the kettle on when Lewis came down too, stopping in the middle of the kitchen.

“I need to tell you something,” he started and you paused, waiting, “something happened in Vegas.”

You felt your heart accelerate, you didn’t like that tone, so instead of asking more, you just waited, holding your breath.

“I cheated.”

It’s like you were punched in the gut, and you gasped for air. Your eyes immediately teared up, but you held in, waiting for his next words. You held yourself up with both hands on the kitchen island, because your legs felt like they might just give in. You stared at him, numb. Waiting for it to be some sick and unfunny joke, but the guilt in his eyes was so real.

“It happened in Vegas, and it didn’t mean anything at all, and I’m so so sorry, I know I should never have done it, and I regret it. I love you so much, I never wanted to hurt you, please believe me, I’ll do anything for your forgiveness, whatever you want just say th-”

At that point you stopped listening, looking down at your hand sprawled on the countertop, the wedding band and the engagement ring you wore on top of it felt like they were burning, like a curse just about to ruin your perfect life.

Like a beautiful sandcastle crumbling under a big wave, your perfect life came crashing down, with a couple of words and one single decision that never came from you. Your plans, your dreams, your future that always had Lewis beside you now were turning to dust. And it hurt like fucking hell, like you were under the wreckage, something heavy compressing your chest leaving you to die an agonizing death.

Lewis walked up to you, trying to take your hand but you moved out of his reach, taking a step back.

“Please, just say something. Anything. Please, love. Scream at me, hit me, key my car, anything. Please, say something,” He begged you, and all you could feel was pain, a knot in your stomach as you walked away, numbly going back to your room, locking the door behind you because you could hear him coming after you.

You held your head, this feeling of despair gnawing your insides, and you pulled the wedding band and engagement ring out, leaving it at the bedside table. Your tears came down and you looked at the bed were you had made love on the night before, were you had fucked his brains out just because you wanted him to feel better, after being upset with how the season ended. He hid this information for more than a week, because you had been in Abu Dhabi with him for moral support. Crying, you pull off the bed sheets, leaving them on the floor when the knot in your stomach makes you too nauseous. Running to the bathroom, you puke your disgust away, crying and dry heaving after there was nothing left in your stomach.

You were going to leave your job next year because you two were planning to try for kids. You were going to dedicate yourself to finally writing your book. You were going to join him the whole season, to never leave his side, to go wherever he went. You were going to buy a place in his hometown too, to be close to his family whenever you two had the time. You had planned to have a baby in England, because of Lewis.

How after five years together, after two years of marriage you had crafted your life around his. How you’d drop everything to make him happy, because his happiness made you happy. He knew cheating was your only and strongest dealbreaker, you had told him countless times during your relationship, you had reminded him before the wedding too, and he had said he would never be interested in anyone else.

You pulled a towel from under the sink and sobbed into it. You could still hear his voice outside, muffled by the door. Going back to bed, you put your wedding band back again, staring at it as a token of your happiest years.

You cried yourself to sleep.

The next morning you woke up and did your morning routine in pain. It was like you had to live feeling the pulsating pain of a broken bone. As you opened the door, Lewis was sleeping on the hallway floor by the door. Avoiding him, you went to the kitchen, but you didn’t have the energy to cook anything, so you grabbed the key of one of his cars and left for a coffee shop.

Everything felt like an out of body experience, like you were in automatic mode, going with the flow, buying a muffin and a tea because that’s what you did every time. Greeting the waitress with a small smile, like always. The only difference was going back to the car instead of eating inside the cafe, and eating there, pushing food inside so you could have some resemblance of normalcy. Your phone had been ringing for the past thirty minutes non stop, the ringtone you had put specifically for him, the song you had your first dance in your wedding. You think about that Lewis, that man who would never do anything that could hurt you. The one with dreams and promises, the man who would say he wanted kids with you, the one who always had a description of the kids you would have. She’ll have your eyes and my hair, he would say, daydreaming, hopefully she’ll have your beautiful smile, Lew, you would add.

Driving around for a while, your phone on Do not disturb, you watched the streets of Monaco, bustling with people, locals and tourists, walking around, going to boutiques and cafés, and you noticed how Monaco had never been your first choice to live in. You would rather a place a little bit colder, with lots of libraries and historical places, with mountains and lakes.

You went back home hours later, and as soon as you got inside, you were faced with Lewis, pale and visibly worried, phone in hand.

“Oh my god, I was so worried! I thought- I thought you had left me- Where were you?”

“Driving” you kicked your shoes and went to the kitchen to drink water. After downing two full glasses, you went outside, sitting by the view of the city.

You painfully loved him, the kind of love you once were happy to let yourself dive in, and now you were drowning.

“Please, can we talk about it?” He asked, by the balcony door as if he were afraid to scare you away like a skittish animal. You nodded, and he carefully sat on the chair beside you. “Can we work on it? Do you think you may have it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I don’t know, Lewis, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“We can do marriage counseling, we can do anything you want, we can- we can move, buy another place, we can adopt a kitten, like you’ve always wanted, or we can renew our vows, I can gi-give you a pass, so we’ll be even-”

“I honestly don’t know how to fix this, Lewis. I’m not sure it’s even fixable.”

You two stared into the horizon, lost in thoughts.

“Give me a chance, and I’ll fix it, love. I’ll do everything in my power to fix it.”

“Tell me what happened,” you commanded, not looking at him.

“Love, please, don’t do this.”

“You want to fix this, right? Then start by telling me the whole truth.”

And he did. He told you who was, Kate-something, an influencer who had been a fling of his from the past, before you. They had met unexpectedly during the Vegas Grand Prix, she had been invited by some other team. He told you almost everything, leaving out details about the sex, but he told you everything else, and you listened, unmoved, only the tears falling down nonstop.

The next couple of days consisted of Lewis buying you things, food, jewelry, clothes and planning a trip for after the holidays. You slept in your room, and Lewis slept in the guest room, giving you space, to whenever you were comfortable to share a bed with him again. You had every meal together, sometimes he cooked, sometimes he had it delivered. You tried to engage in conversation, but in the end, Lewis was doing most of the talking. Chatting about news of his friends, about his team, about the plans for the trip.

As you sat in the office, you opened a drawer and picked up your resignation letter. You had left it written to hand it when you got back from the holidays. The letter was brief, thanking everyone for the opportunity to work at their company, thanking your boss for all the lessons and explaining you were leaving to become a homemaker. You scoffed at it now, ripping the letter in half and throwing it in the trash.

Maybe you needed to take a step back from everything. The plans and the dreams and the future. Maybe you just needed to give him a chance, you loved him so much, and this kind of love doesn’t go away with a snap of the fingers.

Maybe he was right and if you two started all over, maybe you could fix this.

“I know it might be too soon, but would you consider going on a date? Just like the old times,” he asked one morning a few days later, as you ate breakfast.

“Sure, Lewis.”

He nodded, and you knew he was feeling the way you didn’t call him love or honey anymore. He planned a date that same night. You dressed up to the nines, just to feel some normalcy, just to feel like yourself again. You had dressed in a black long sleeved dress, with some transparency in the sleeves, a black scarpin and you tied your hair in an elegant high ponytail and those bright red lipsticks Lewis liked.

He looked at you in wonder as you came down the stairs.

“You look stunning, my love.” He whispered, taking your hand and making you spin. You felt that spark in your stomach again, well, a little bit of that.

He took you to a two star restaurant, one you’d always go on date nights. He also drove you there in your favorite Mercedes. You decided to put in the effort, to make conversation, to engage with him the whole night. You ate, talked, laughed and drank a couple of wine glasses.

By the end of the night, you had felt a resemblance of normalcy again. When Lewis was picking the tab, you went to the toilet, and you saw a woman trying to change a baby’s diaper. She dropped the box of wet wipes, and you bent down to pick it.

“Thank you, lovely!” She said as you handed it back. You peeked at the baby, a little girl who couldn’t be older than a year.

“Hi there, princess!” You said with a baby voice.

“Can you keep an eye on her just as I pee quickly, I’m sorry to bother,” the mother asked.

“Don’t worry,” you said, carrying the baby she had just finished changing. As the woman entered the stall, you decided to ask, “How has it been, being a mom?”

“Oh, it’s amazing. Of course it’s not easy, but my husband has been a great help around the house and the baby. I couldn’t be happier!”

You looked to the mirror, the baby in your arms, and you imagined living this with Lewis. And you just couldn’t. Because he wouldn’t be there all the time anyway. He would be traveling the world, racing for his championship, you would follow him, but at some point you would have to stop, you would have to settle home the last trimester, and he wouldn’t be there. Would he miss your baby’s birth?

You wondered if he would cheat again when you weren’t there.

As you left the toilet, your mood had dwindled again.

Lewis noticed as you were quiet going home, head against the window, watching the city and mumbling the song playing in the car.

As you arrived home, you pushed Lewis against the sofa, he looked confused, but his eyes followed your hands as you pulled your dress up, bunching it around your hips so you could straddle his lap.

“Baby, I don’t think w-” he started talking, but you held his chin.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, pressing your lips against his.

You kissed him like you were starved, showing him how much you missed him, how much you loved him. He let you guide the kiss, opening your mouth and entangling your tongues, your hips grinding on him. He whispered nonsense as he kissed your face and neck, I missed you so much, love, nibbling at your neck, I love you my baby, pulling your dress down to free your tits, sucking on your nipples, missed this, baby, you’re so fucking sexy, you ground on him, moving and moaning as his hand held your ass, guiding your movements. You were so wet, you missed his touch so much.

As you looked down, seeing his lips latched onto your nipple, your mind drifted, wondering if he touched the other woman like this, if he talked dirty to her like that.

And you were immediately turned off.

“Stop, stop,” you pushed him and he let you go easily, scrambling to the sofa and away from his lap, “red, red!” You shouted your safe word.

Breathless, Lewis nodded, as you quickly pulled the cups of your dress up, covering your boobs and pulled your dress down, eyes watering. He stared at you, confused and not knowing how to act. You two were very creative in the bedroom, but you only used the safe word a few times whenever you two were in the mood for some BDSM scenes, you had never used your safe word in a normal setting.

“Are you ok?” He asked, finally and you just shook your head.

“Was she better than me?” You asked, voice small and vulnerable.

“What? Baby, no, never! You’re my everything.” He sat by your side, but you stood up in wobbly legs, nervous.

You wanted to ask why, if you were enough, if you were everything, then why he felt the need to do it. Why would he throw away so many years, such a beautiful love story that you used to joke you would tell your grandkids about.

You started walking away, but Lewis ran up to you and blocked your path.

“Please, let’s talk it out,” He asked, eyes pleading. You stared at his lips, and something inside you just snapped.

“I don’t want to talk! FUCK!” You pushed past him, “I look at you and I can only picture you with her! I feel your hands on my body and I hate it because I can only think of you touching her, and kissing her and fucking making love to her! Look at us! Look at everything you ruined because you just couldn’t not get your dick wet! Because you couldn’t wait five fucking days for me!”

You tried not to sob, running a hand over your face.

“And you were perfect and I love you, and I hate myself for loving you because I don’t trust you! I keep thinking that if one day I miss the flight to your race, will you cheat again? If- if I have to work and you suddenly feel lonely, will you cheat again? If we fight for some reason, will you cheat again?”

“We can fix this, we go to counseling or-

“FIX WHAT? I didn’t break anything! Because I love you so much that the idea of lying with another man disgusts me! You broke my heart, our home and our future!”

He was crying too when you looked at him.

You took the keys to his car and slipped away, driving around, trying to clear your head. Deep down you wished you could forgive and forget, you wished you could get over that mistake, but now everything around the house reminds you of his mistake.

You lost control of the car and crashed against a tree. It wasn’t a big crash, even though the hood of the car looked totalled. You called someone to take the destroyed car away, and you took an Uber to the hospital, just to make sure you didn’t hit your head too hard. In the hospital, they put a bandaid on the small cut and you held an ice pack above the swelling in the side of your forehead, they also gave you a few pills for the pain and possible headache.

You went back home hours later, and Lewis was waiting by the living room.

“Where were-” he stopped short, seeing the small cut on your forehead, “oh, god, what happened?”

“I crashed your car, I’m sorry. It wasn’t a big deal, I’m ok,” you walked into the kitchen to take one of the pills for the incoming headache.

“What? Why didn’t you call me?” Lewis followed you.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” you repeated calmly.

“Are you kidding me? You’re bleeding!”

“I’m not, it was just a small piece of glass that grated my forehead, but I’m ok, it doesn’t really hurt,” you muttered, wanting to go to sleep, “I’m sorry about your car, I’ll pay to get it fixed.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the car! I’m worried about you!” He came closer, holding your face with both hands, looking around for any more injuries.

You stared at his face, his eyes that had been such a source of happiness and unconditional love were now painful to see. Handsome still, but you couldn’t see him as yours anymore. You took his hands off you gently.

“I’m ok. I’ll pay for your car.” You reinforced, taking a step back.

“Our car, love. You’re my wife. And you don’t have to pay for it.” He corrected you, but you couldn’t feel anything.

Because the car was his. All the cars were his. The house was his, too. The dog was his. The properties. Everything belonged to him. You belonged to him the whole time. And now you just didn’t anymore.

You had signed a prenup before the wedding, which had been an idea that came from Lewis’ lawyer. Your husband had been angrily against it, but you didn’t mind signing it, because it was never about the money. Even upset signing the prenup, Lewis still took all of your expenses, bills, house and cars, and everything else. There was a cheating clause on that document, one you never bothered to read or memorize because cheating was never on your mind.

A couple of days later you had barely said a word to him, and you were having breakfast when he approached you.

“I’ll call mum later, to tell her we’re not going to her birthday dinner,” Lewis informed you.

“No, we’re going. We’re not going to spoil her celebration because of our problems,” you shook your head.

So you went to dinner at his mom’s. Everyone was there and you brought her a gold necklace with a peony pendant, since it was her favorite flower. You and Lewis tried to pretend nothing was wrong as to not ruin the mood of the night. You still sat by his side, ate and talked with everyone. Lewis knew you were faking being ok, because your smiles didn’t reach your eyes anymore, and every time he tried any physical touch like holding hands, putting a hand on your shoulder or pulling you to his lap, your body would tense up, so he would let go of you.

By then end of the night, you were pretty sure everyone had believed your act, but when Carmen asked for help with taking her presents upstairs, you knew she knew too.

“What is going on, love? You’re not your usual self today.”

You felt your eyes filling up and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You adored Carmen, you adored Lewis’ family, his siblings, his parents and his nephews and nieces. But Carmen had become a second mum to you from the beginning, being the first person to welcome you with open arms.

“Talk to me, dear,” she asked and the kindness in her voice made you cry even more, sobbing so much she had to hug you holding you tight.

“This is probably the last time we’ll see each other as family, Carmen,” you warned her, and her face crumbled just like yours did.

“No… No, honey, what happened?” She asked, and you shook your head.

“You talk to him later, and I’m sure he will tell you whenever he’s ready,” you muttered, not wanting to meddle in a mother-son relationship, not wanting to poison it. You pulled the engagement ring from your finger, the beautiful engraved jewel, that had belonged to Carmen's family for generations, had ended up with you, and you had expected to pass it down to a kid you’d have with Lewis. You gave the ring back to her.

“For when he finds the one.”

“No, you’re the one for him, honey,” she exclaimed, teary eyed.

“I wish I was, but I’m not,” you stared longingly at the ring sitting on the palm of her hand.

“One day he will need it again, and he will find someone and you’ll love her just as much. I’ll be just the distant past, but I hope you save a little space in your heart for me, yeah?” You laughed a little bit, wiping the tears on your cheeks. She only nodded, her own tears falling down. “Thank you for taking me in all these years, for embracing me into your family, I’m very grateful for that.”

You two cried a little more, and you tried to mask your crying face after a few minutes in the bathroom.

In the end, unfortunately, Lewis' family convinced you to stay the night since it would be a long drive back to Lewis’ place in London. You ended up sharing a bed for the first time since he admitted to cheating. You laid there with your back turned to him in the dark.

You couldn’t sleep for a couple of hours, but he did. When you turned back around, you stared at his beautiful face. Your dreamy, handsome husband. You softly traced imaginary lines in his face, tracing his eyebrows and nose, the tip of your finger running over his lips and cupids’ bow. How could you love someone so deeply and still not want to be with them? How could you not just put everything behind?

He knew you so well, he knew of you past of being cheated on, of going through abusive relationships. He knew where you draw the lines. He knew your limitations and still went ahead with cheating on you.

You got up from the bed, you went to the small armchair, opening your iPad to try and watch a movie or something to help you sleep. But as you unlocked it, the tab open was the project you had made for the family home you and Lewis were going to build for when you had kids. The finished project hit you like a punch in the gut.

You went inside the bathroom and took a break. It was the middle of the night, and everyone was asleep, so you just sat on the closed toilet to try and calm down the aching pain in your chest. When you came back, Lewis was awake going through your iPad you had left unlocked.

“What’s- What’s this?”

“It’s the project for our home, I was going to gift it to you on your birthday,” you whispered, sitting by his side on the floor, your backs to the bed.

Lewis sniffled, and you didn’t look at his face because you didn’t want to see him cry. He kept looking at the project, going page after page, seeing all the details you had thoughtfully put there. He started crying even harder when he saw the nurseries you had designed. When he saw the tennis court, because you and him loved playing with his dad, and talked countless times about teaching your kids to play. When Lewis saw the big kitchen with the panel wall where you could place pictures and drawings and notes. When he saw the sunroom, with toys and your small library, and Lewis’ videogames. All the tidbits you and him had dreamed about during your five years relationship.

“We can’t let this all go, love” he said between soft cries.

“God, I hate metaphors,” you whispered, drying the tears that came down, “but we’re a broken mirror, Lewis. We can try and fix it, and glue all the pieces back together, but the cracks will still be there.”

“I don't know how I messed up this badly, I don’t even know why-” he set the iPad down, staring at his hands, “I’m so sorry, so so sorry.”

You only nodded, getting up. You went back to bed, laying under the covers.

“I know,” you whispered after a few minutes. He came back to bed too, laying beside you without touching you.

“The project is beautiful. I love it.” He muttered staring at the ceiling.

“I do too.”

When you left his mom’s house, with a tight goodbye hug with Carmen, Lewis had to go to Brackley for work and you went back to Monaco. 

You thought you may have a chance to fix everything. But as the days he was away passed, you started to wonder if he went to England to really work. If he wasn’t going to meet someone, the Kate-something, or any other of his flings from the past. If he even was in Brackley as he said he was.

The trust was gone.

As if it wasn’t bad enough as it was, the lady, Kate-something texted you. You had no idea how she got your number, and the text read:

“Ask your husband what he did after the Las Vegas GP.”

You scoffed, thinking she was a little late for a shocking revelation. You screenshotted the text just in case and blocked her number after, without bothering to let Lewis know about it.

You were one foot out of the door already.

The dreaded day came when you met with a lawyer, a big shot famous lawyer who always worked with famous people when they wanted a low profile divorce. She was very respectful of all your wishes, though with the small fortune you were going to pay for her services, being polite and helpful was the least she could do. She drafted a divorce agreement following all your requirements, especially in regards to the prenup.

The next few days, you read and reread the divorce papers, leaving them in the locked drawer in your office.

When Lewis came back from the Mercedes factory, it was night and you were having a glass of wine by the balcony.

“Want a nightcap?” You offered your glass to him. He nodded, taking a sip off the half full glass, “how was work?”

He told you about all the work in the factory, going to dinner with his teammate and meeting with his boss. It was almost like before, for a few minutes it was just a regular day in your married life. Lewis helped you put everything away in the kitchen and you went upstairs.

When he was about to go into the guest room, you stopped him.

“Lewis,” you asked and he looked at you hopefully, “can you sleep with me tonight?”

“Whatever you want, love.”

So you settled in for sleep, both of you going through your nightly routine, and finally, laying in bed. You took the initiative to cuddle him, nose against his neck, inhaling his scent and your ear above his heart.

You slept great for the first time since you were in separate beds. But you woke up in the middle of the night. And the way the little lampshade by the bedside table lit up the side of his face, peacefully asleep, handsome and yours. Fully yours still.

You couldn’t help the small kiss on his chest, above his heart, the other kiss on his cheek, and a third one on his neck, that had him waking up.

“Baby?” Lewis looked at you. You kissed his lips, open mouthed, sloppy and desperate.

“Shh,” you kissed his chest again, now he was fully awake, surrendered under your touch. You straddled him, your body missing him so much, his touch and his love, and the twilight making everything feel like before, you couldn’t help but desire him with burning passion.

“Love,” he stopped you, holding your jaw softly, “are you sure?”

“Please, just be mine tonight, yeah?” You asked him in a small voice.

“I’m yours forever, love.”

And so you drowned in him, one last time. You tossed your pajamas away, as he sat up in the bed, kissing your neck down, biting softly at your nipples, taking it painfully slow just in case you changed your mind. You ground against him, his cock hard under your ministrations. You pulled his pants down, and he kicked it to the floor, as you slid your cunt over his length, dripping over him, moaning loud and hearing his groans as his hands settled on your hips, letting you take control, doing whatever you wanted.

You got on your knees just so you could line him up at your entrance, pushing down slowly, letting him stretch you well, your body accommodating him perfectly like it should always be. And so you started riding him, slowly at first, but then you pounded him into the mattress, fucking him into oblivion. His hands were all around, pinching your nipples, gripping your waist and slapping your ass the way he knew drove you crazy. He fingered your clit, making you cum around his cock shamelessly fast, hips shaking and cunt gripping him tight.

“Can- oh, fuck,” he asked after a particularly hard clench of your dripping cunt, “-Can you give me one more, my baby?”

Then, he changed positions, laying you by his side, hugging you with one arm and using the other to lift your leg so he could have room to fuck you slow, lazy and nice, pressing your g-spot again and again. He smothered your lips with his tongue and teeth, stealing your moans, as your hands pressed his body into yours. You wanted to melt into him, to leave fingerprints and nail marks all over him. You wanted him to have a permanent indentation of your body pressed to his.

Selfishly, you wanted him to never forget you. To be a part of him in the forever he promised you. Even if you won’t be there.

“Look at me,” he asked, and you opened your eyes to meet his dark molten embers so full of love that it threatened to suffocate you, “you’re the only woman for me. You’re my everything.”

He picked up the pace a little, going harder, until he had you gushing around him, making a mess of your sheets and milking him until he was groaning, hips stuttering into release.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good. Feel so good for me,” he murmured into the dark, “I love you so so much.”

You two hugged back to sleep.

In the morning you showered, brushed your teeth and changed. You stopped in the middle of the room, staring at Lewis’ sleeping form. In the closet you packed a bag, putting clothes and shoes on it, then you grabbed your iPad, laptop and work stuff, then you called a taxi and waited.

You left the divorce agreement on the kitchen island, alongside your wedding band, your lawyer’s contact information and a small note. You were crying as you got into the taxi, leaving behind the future plans you had hoped to live.

It took you a couple of months to get your shit together. You spent Christmas with your family only for the first time in years, and you didn’t travel for New Year’s Eve with Lewis as planned, you didn’t resign from your job, instead opting for a relocation so you could move away.

Finding a new place in Scotland was relatively easy considering you had a good amount of savings because Lewis always paid all the bills, you found a place where you could dedicate yourself to work and to write your book and to heal.

•

Lewis found the house empty that next morning. You had made love to him again, and he thought that maybe you two could salvage the marriage. But as he looked for you around the house, he found the divorce agreement in the kitchen. His stomach dropped as he held your wedding band, and the other hand found your note.

“Seems like I’m a coward too, since I can’t face you to say goodbye. Take this divorce agreement to your lawyer, and any questions you might have, please forward it to my lawyer, she’ll explain everything. I love you, but I don’t trust you. And nothing good can be built in a trustless marriage. The next time you find a good one, don’t break her heart.”

He cried like a baby, going over your divorce agreement that was signed by you. You had given up everything, you didn’t want anything of his, not any cars or property, not any financial support, not even the house that had your name on it too. You voided the prenup, stating that you didn’t want the alimony that came with the cheating clause. Looked like a clean break, like you didn’t want anything that could tie you to Lewis.

He tried calling you and texting you, but seemed like you had blocked him on everything. He went through the motions, meeting with your lawyer who, despite the fame of being tough, was really kind to him. He told your lawyer that he wanted you to take the alimony that came with the cheating clause because it was only fair, and he wouldn’t sign the divorce if you didn’t accept the money.

So after a few weeks, Lewis' lawyer got in contact to tell him you accepted the money, as long as he would sign the divorce as soon as possible. By the New Year, you were officially a divorced couple.

•

You got settled on your new home by the end of the first month of the year, three weeks after the divorce was finalized. You moved to a little north of Edinburgh, not too far from the city, but far enough that you could have some sense of peace and privacy.

You still had a tan line on your ring finger of the left hand.

You only realized your period was late the week later, as you were doing grocery shopping and house supplies, and you noticed you haven’t got your period for a while. Despite being a grown woman, worker and independent, you felt shaky fingers as you took a pharmacy test.

While you waited, you stayed in front of the mirror. You had felt a bit of nausea, but you attributed it to stress and disgust, and you had been feeling tired but you thought it was because of the moving and all the paperwork. You ran your palm over your stomach, trying to feel something, but it felt so normal.

When the time’s up and you leaned over the sink to check the result, you sighed reading the 8 - 10 weeks pregnant.

“That’s ok, baby,” you whispered, teary eyed, “we’re gonna be ok.”

Ending 1: moving on

Ending 2: forgiving

Ending 3: a secret third thing (blurb)

[ajortga]

competition

pairing: slytherin!toxic!jenna ortega x ravenclaw!fem reader

summary: jenna loves to joke around, you both know it. as she gets braver and braver with her jokes, it comes with a price, eventually hurting you and taking away something you loved most.

warnings: slight angst, teasing remarks, heavy makeout scene, rushed ending, enemies to lovers

word count: 5.2k+

based off request!

-

Jenna criticizes literally everything about R's performance (J's an ass here 😓), while R is actually starting to get really pressured, J would always have something to say, thennn R gets tired of J's bs and begins focusing on themselves more, which would lead to R ignoring J for atleast a month or two, obviously J's pride is awfully. THEN J CONFESSES TO HER FRIEND, (how inlove she is w R and how she misses R sm) WITHOUT KNOWING THAT R IS NEARBY, OVERHEARING EVERYTHING. 😍😍 A DAY AFTER... R JUST TAKES J IN A PRIVATE ROOM AND KISSING TF OUTTA HER.

Slytherin Jenna! x Ravenclaw R!

-

Your test paper gets put on your desk, your teacher murmuring a small, “I expected better, Y/N.”

There was a 65% circled in red and it made you sick to your stomach, you had never gotten a low score before, especially in potions. You knew your concoctions and effects, you swear you had mixed everything perfectly. You groan in frustration, cursing to yourself.

Your hand scrunches, breathing in deeply as you ruffle your hair, now hearing the voice of the person you would rather befriend a frog with and use them first as a sacrifice for a blood sucking demon. 

“How can someone fail a potions exam? You managed to get first place for being the biggest dweeb, messing up the easiest class.” Jenna slightly smirks, teasingly as she approaches you and whispers sharply in your ear, your eyes glaring at her. “It’s impressive you didn’t notice a small switch of potions. All I did was switch the labels of the potions which had the same color and you didn’t even notice.”

Of course she switched up the potions to set you up for failing, “You know how important this is to me.”

“Aw.. I’m so sorry Y/N,” she mocks, “What a pity.” She pouts, “I don’t care.”

You want to smack her in the face, maybe throw that explosive potion you made to melt off her face, but you don’t. At this point you’re thinking of something to get her back, packing your spell books.

“I swear she won’t get off my shoulders, I haven’t done a single damn thing to Ortega.”

Emma laughs, nudging you, “Maybe she just likes teasing someone sweet like you.”

An annoyed exhale leaves your lips, not knowing what she meant by that, “Well she better stop it,” you grab your broom stick. 

Your friend thinks a little, “Just put a small spell on her broomstick! Nothing, you know, to make her hurt, just maybe throw her off balance.”

That interests you, you're trying to think of a sparkle you could just add onto hers. You notice she hasn’t gone to class yet and clearly you can see the large stick hidden between her name. As you approach, your fingers touch the stick, feeling the way your body immediately focuses, then you pull your finger away to go back to Emma. You feel like you shouldn’t, but you don’t feel a single ounce of guilt as a smirk forms when you reach her.

“Come on,” you urge, taking Emma’s hand as you make your way outside with your broom sticks. 

You use your right hand, grabbing it forward as Mrs. Hooch stays on the side, watching. You’ve all gotten the hang of it either way, it’s rare for some people to fall.

“Up!” Emma and you say in unison, seeing your sticks fly up as you smile at each other and hop on, ready for a flight.

You giggle, feeling yourself ascend. 

“Y/L/N,” You hear Jenna’s voice behind you, making your figure turn to face her. You see her stiffen. 

Emma gives you a look, cunning. 

“Ortega,” you greet, not so politely, but not rude nonetheless. 

“I’d challenge you to a racing match, but I do know that your ass is scared that I’ll beat and outrun you in seconds.”

You give out a snarky laugh, “I highly doubt you could even reach me by the time I ascend. I’m better at you than flying, we both know that.”

Jenna does know that, sort of. And she doesn’t want you to prove it, not during flight class while everyone is watching.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to challenge me, niñita,” you respond again, seeing the way Jenna was thinking.

“Then I challenge you,”

“And I accept.”

Emma nudges you, you hear her whisper in your ear, “Well, she’d probably complain, you did sort of spell her broom and she’d notice as soon as she’d get on.”

A grin forms on your lips, tearing your eyes from the tiny Jenna, “Well, I spelled it so that if Jenna were to try anything, cause that’s the bitch she is, the spell would take effect. I’m not entirely making myself win at all. I know for a fact she’d try to make me loose, she doesn’t want to lose at all, well at least to me. I know her long enough to know she’d put a spell to make me lose balance, Em.”

You see Hooch in the corner of your eye, “Plus, Hooch is watching everything, and because I spelled her broom before hand, nothing will happen until she aims some spell at me. Hooch will see that, or at least a little sparkle and chant of words. But she won’t see mine, since I spelled it before, and she’ll just think Jenna lost her balance trying to spell me.”

Emma looks at you, not knowing if you should go on.

“Em! Seriously, Jenna has been making me miserable this year, and I haven’t done anything. This is just a playful harmless thing. It’s the least I can do. I could’ve spawned a rat in her dorm that follows her everywhere!”

“Go, I sort of want to see her fall.”

The grin that disappeared forms again, winking at her as you hop back on your broom.

Then you two are off.

-

You rush through the field, feeling the wind blow through your hair. You loved feeling that cool breeze, it’s unreal, flying is your favorite thing to do.

Jennas not far behind, but far enough to know that you’ll win. 

She groans to herself, watching your pretty, she meant nasty figure speed ahead.

The brunette’s eyes narrow, she wasn’t going to let you win without a fight, she focuses on your broom, she’s close enough to do something. 

The wind is making your hair go crazy, but in a good way. Everyone is waiting their turn from below, watching you race through the course. Fast enough to feel their hair blow from your swiftness.

An exhale pasts her lips, you can see her trying to come closer, or almost urging you to slow down. But you don’t, of course you won’t. You speed faster, dodging an incoming tree and turning a corner.

Jenna feels blood rushing through her ears, murmuring something under her breath as she gets ready to swish through you and laugh.

She begins the spell, feeling her fingertips slightly tingle. But as soon as she’s about to shoot a spark, her hands let go and she sees the blue flying spark stumble towards you. Instead of it hitting your broom and making it shake, your hair flies through the wind and it shoots back at her. 

Jenna yelps, feeling the way her broom starts to shake.

Emma giggles from the sidelines, as soon as you pass the blonde’s figure, you send her a thumbs up and a knowing wink.

God finally.

The brunette loses her balance, feeling the broom shake left and right, she’s clinging onto it tightly, smacks her head on loose branches. She feels herself slow down to regain a steady pace, but as she speeds up again, you’re already gone, swerving a corner.

-

The tiny brunette grumbles from the benches, watching you smile and jump up and down. 

“Impressive play out there, Y/N. You just might be our best flier out there, keep your swift performance and you’ll be on for Quidditch.”

You already knew you’d win, even if Jenna hit your broom with her spell. You’ve won every time racing against the class.

You approach her, giving her a half-hearted smile, you’d take it as a smirk.

“Well, someone tried to cheat.”

You hear her huff, and it makes you giggle, you brush off the stick that is stuck in her hair.

-

“I regret doing that, Em, that tiny tiny 3 foot 1 foot cockroach is making me fall into her traps,” you murmur, stomping your foot.

“At least you got a taste of revenge, Y/N.” 

“I guess so,” you say, sinking into your seat, you feel yourself begin to find her playful and harmless banters to be stressful by every joke and scandal that girl plays.

-

As Quidditch season approaches, Jenna swipes her hair to the side, tying it up as you watch her with narrow eyes. It’s just a regular racing match this time. No ball. Just two talented people against each other.

Well, one more talented than the other, you think to yourself

Hooch brings you two together, in which you stare each other down, your gaze not faltering on each other.

“Goodluck, I wish you two a fair match.”

You two shake hands, though you both won’t admit it was a genuine one. You give Jenna a final glare before gazing back at the field, focusing. 

“Ready?” Hooch says, you don’t respond, just a subtle nod.

“And.. Up!”

You and Jenna shout at your brooms.

“Up!” you command, seeing your favorite item fly up, you jump on it.

Then you both swing off.

Again, not long after, does Hooch see the way your practicing and after school matches with friends are working well. You’re much farther than Jenna is, and again, it’s like no other match. But this time Jenna isn’t going to let you win again.

She growls, casting spells onto your broom and immediately, you feel your broom slow down.

“What the hell.” You mutter to yourself, you dive down. But it seems like your broom isn’t listening.

It’s swishing up and down, left to right, and you steady yourself, but you’re shaking.

You're swinging back and forth and you're losing control, you can’t make your broom stop. It’s not like just a shake of your broom and you lose balance before catching yourself, this time it’s worse. Your broom isn’t listening.

You scream to yourself, not too loud. But Mrs. Hooch can see the way Jenna is catching up, she knows Jenna did something, but it’s not looking good. Sure playful banters were okay. 

But instead of dodging a tree, you smack your head straight into the leafiness, feeling the thorns of the leaves sink and cut beneath your eye. Jenna swishes through you, not looking back. The pain immediately comes through, harsh stings roaring through your skin. You cry out, completely losing balance on your broom, crashing into the tree harshly and feeling your head bang into the wood. 

Jenna still hasn’t noticed the damage she’s caused.

You feel yourself fall.

Farther and farther.

Till your body crashes down on the grassy field, your bones from the fall aren’t helping. You hear the way they crack. And then you feel warm blood trickling down your forehead and down from the cut on your eye. You whimper.

Black spots invade your vision and you feel carsick. But you know you’re not in a car.

Your eyes flutter, making a soft groan as Emma approaches you. You can barely see her worried face but you know she’s scared.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” She says, it’s muffled. You don’t respond, her figure is blurry, you can barely see her blue eyes.

Before you can even think of a response, your eyes shut.

And as Jenna reaches the finish line, she just turns around, to notice you at least tens of feet below from her, collapsed on the ground and curled up. She can’t help but feel a gasp fall from her lips, diving down and getting off her broom stick.

She didn’t mean for it to get this chaotic, she was just hoping you’d crash into a branch and get all angry and fussy. Not get hurt. As she approaches closer, she sees blood trickling down your face as your chest heaves up and down. Emma looks at you, worriedly as everyone surrounds you two.

Jenna feels something that she doesn’t want to admit, she feels guilty for hurting you. You had barely done anything to her, but she’s messed with you countless times, you’ve gotten in trouble for it.

And you never ratted her out. The one time you decide to get her back, she’s taken things too far.

“God,” she murmurs, her voice betraying her as she pushes through the crowds of people, “Is she okay?”

The way her friend turns to her, your best friend looks like she’s about to explode, “Does she look okay? DOES SHE LOOK OKAY JENNA? What the hell were you thinking?” the blonde says the last part half aloud, where only Ortega can hear.

“I didn’t think she’d get hurt!” Jenna retorts, kneeling down and putting her hesitant hand over your chest, feeling the way it was beating quickly, chest going up and down, up down.

Immediately nurses come and drag you out, Emma following you as they take you to the infirmary. 

Jenna feels herself following too, until Hooch catches up with her.

“Ortega!” Her voice is loud, screeching as she pulls Jenna off to the side, “what on earth do you think you were doing? You’ve gotten Y/N seriously hurt because of a stupid practice match! Don’t think I didn’t catch the lame spell you’ve cast.” her eyes are wild, angry, “You know we don’t allow spells on the battlefield, I know some of Hogwarts students have broken it, but it’s never been so severe, you’ve hurt her tremendously. She’s bleeding, and I think she’ll suffer some sprains.”

Jenna nods, she understands. Sort of. She wants to understand, she knows what she did was bad. Hooch takes a deep breath, “I’m disappointed with you.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know if Y/N will heal in three months, she’s been our best and fastest player, with quick decisions and speedy moves. She might have to sit out on Quidditch, I was looking forward to taking the trophy this season. And I would disqualify you, send you to detention after school everyday till she properly heals,” Hooch takes a deep breath, “But you have to be one of our players because you have the ability to. That doesn’t mean that you won’t get detention. I’ll even ask Dumbledore to exclude you from house games.

God, Jenna didn’t mean to make you be kicked out this season. She knew how much you wanted it. She can’t help but feel guilty.

Hooch’s voice once again speaks up, “And I expect you to apologize and pay her a visit. You two have never gotten along, but I know you both care about each other. Even if it’s slight.”

A soft nod leaves her, her eyes lingering on your small figure that is now being taken to surgery. Maybe she’ll slow down with the pranks.

-

As soon as visitors are allowed in, Jenna begins to stand up and approach your door.

“Ortega, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t open that door,” it’s Emma's voice, but this time she sounds much more angry. Unlike the voice the brunette is used to hearing.

The way Jenna stands there, Emma narrows her eyes, “You’ve already hurt her, what more can you need? Unplug the oxygen tank and start laughing your stubborn ass up? I don’t think so.” 

She was taken by surprise, the fact that both you and Emma have gotten used to her tricks, she feels herself biting her lip.

“N-no.. No, not anything like that. I just wanted to apologize. I know my tricks have gone a bit farther than expected.”

Emma approaches her, pressing her finger to Jenna’s chest, “You’ve hurt her more than enough, and I can see it. She’s done nothing to you! Nothing!” your best friend growls, and Jenna backs up.

“You just don’t understand how much you’ve pressured her! Because you’re too busy standing there like the spoiled person you are on your banters.”

Jenna smacks her hands off, raising both of her hands to show she’s ‘surrendering,’ “I know, I know Em! Just let me apologize.”

“Not when she’s just about to wake up, you wouldn’t want the least expected person who hurt you to show up as soon as you wake up. Give her time,” the blonde grumbles, shushing her back to her seat as she enters your room. Jenna stands up again, noticing you're still unconscious.

Emma can feel her presence, and decides not to turn back as she sits on the chair next to you. Your face lost its color. None of the pink shade that tinted your cheeks when Jenna teased you. The pink shade that she wanted to see was gone, replaced by a pale, tired face, sound asleep. 

There were cuts all over you, she saw some bruises and there was a big bandage wrapped around your right cheek. She also saw a deep cut that was gauzed up in your arm. She winced. A few broken bones maybe.

She didn’t know it was this bad. The only noise was Emma’s sniffles, and the small beep of your heartbeat’s monitor. Jenna sighs, scooting closer and hesitantly bringing her hand close to your face. She felt like if she were to touch you, you would turn into dust. 

Her hand gently traces your fast, your nose slightly twitches, but she knows you’re too weak to move or wake up. Then she brushes through your hair, it’s weird beginning to see all the times she’s treated you wrongly as something she shouldn’t have done. Each trick got worse than the other, more risky of being harmed. And now look at you, all broken and bruised.

I didn’t mean it, Jenna thinks, looking down at your tiny figure.

I really didn’t mean it.

-

Your eyes flutter closed, and immediately you close them again, groaning from the whitest most lightest light you’ve ever encountered, covering yourself with a blanket. As soon as you move, you moan softly in pain, feeling pain roar through your body.

“Stay still,” you hear a familiar voice say, you can’t lend your finger on it. It sounds pretty, and before you can process it your brain switches that thought off. It’s your annoying rival that casted a spell that got you here in the first place. Jenna stupid Ortega.

You grunt, looking up at her, you feel bandages around you, avoiding contact with the brunette.

“Emma should be back soon, she was getting some flowers for you.”

“Good, then you can leave.”

Harsh.

You hear the way Jenna sighs, and you shake it off, turning slightly so you can face the entertaining wall instead of her.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry.”

..

“Please, can’t you see I’m apologizing?”

“No, Jenna. You knew I didn’t like these things you did to me before. And you decide to apologize now? Do you think it’s going to make me forgive you just like that?” You say, turning back at her, a storm brews behind your eyes.

“I can’t participate in the one thing I was looking forward to this season! Just because you put this spell that you knew could harm me badly! You knew I wanted to be in Quidditch!” Jenna winces at your increasing voice.

“You could’ve been on the team too! It’s not just one of us! But you got your actions in the way before you could even think! And now you want to apologize?” It's loud, your voice begins to falter a little. Your shoulders untense, and Jenna can hear the monitor of your heart increase by four times, she shushes you, pulling you onto your back.

“Stop,” she says, her voice is too soft for your liking, you can’t think. Too much is going on in your mind, “Please.”

“Get out Jenna.”

“W-what? You don’t understand.. I’m trying to-”

“Jenna, get the hell out!” You snap, your eyes filled to the max with unshed tears.

You stay silent, before cracking out a tiny, “Please.”

And like that, Jenna walks out of the room, murmuring an “I’m sorry.”

Just this time, she really wanted you to know that she meant it.

-

It’s been a month, and by now your arm was barely healing, and there was a stupid ugly mark of a cut on your face. The pain was harsh, if your arm didn’t heal by the time Quidditch began, all your practice and effort would flush down the drain. It scared you.

As bad as the pain got, your mark would probably never fade, there would always be a purple cut marked under your eye. Even once it’s completely healed, ones that meet you will notice your cut, in a lighter shade than your actual skin tone. It made you cry every night, silently. 

It was stupid to cry over, your deep bruises weren’t even close to healing. Every time you would accidentally press into it, you’d shriek in pain. You felt insecure of yourself. It didn’t feel good, every time you’d look at yourself in the mirror there would be your healing cuts scarred over your body. 

“It looks s-so ugly..” You hiccup, looking at yourself in the mirror, Emma by your side as she shakes her head, “Nonsense, it’s okay.”

“It might never go away.” 

“And that’s okay, when you're older, you’ll find it silly, I promise. It’s a reminder of being here, and to remind you that competition is less superior when it comes to safety.”

You can’t help but feel yourself shrink, watching the scar on your face haunt you.

-

Jenna sees you in the hallways, you're in half her classes. But every single time she looks at you, you’re never looking her way. Not like before. Not when exam scores are passed out during Snape or McGonagall when you usually turn around and she waves her high score in the air, but you always wave yours back, grinning happily when you got one percent higher than her. She found you annoying, but now she feels like she’s taken you for granted. You were the one who taught her how to properly care for her plant in Herbology, although most of the time she’s retained information from the random songs and joking nerdy remarks. 

Jenna hated sitting next to you in that class, she loved teasing you and making you explode from frustration. She hated the way you looked at her and had the ability to somehow use some Hogwarts nonsense to make her think back at your smile. 

It was something you did to her, it couldn’t have been herself, she’d never be thinking of your smile or you in general. You must’ve casted a spell on her.

Yet she remembers that she’s thinking about you right now. 

Anyways, she hated the way you smirked at her and kept kicking your feet to hers, then growing some mushroom on her damn shoe.

“What the fuck Y/N? Why is there a green toadstool on my fucking foot?” She says, angrily as you laugh and fall out of your seat. She tries shaking off the small mushroom with her foot, but then it makes it grow even bigger.

And by the end of the day there is a 20 foot mushroom on her shoe, shading her as she walks home, heading straight for the knife to cut it off. 

The thought made her smile a bit. She didn’t want to admit it, she didn’t know how you did it. Or maybe when she kept tapping her pen to purposely annoy you, then when you snapped, light blue sparkles flew out of your mouth and made your voice sound wonky.

Now, you barely looked at her. For the entirety of when you were gone, you had to catch up. She felt a little relieved, you could finally talk to her by asking for notes. Didn’t want to admit the pit in her chest when you asked the person behind you.

I’m sorry, Jenna thinks, she wants to scream at you and apologize until you forgive her.

You ignored her, and she knew she deserved it. She treated you so wrongly. Sure she knew you never mind those moments she looked back to, but she knew that she grew more and more brave with her pranks, growing less and less cautious of even thinking of your safety and feelings.

She hates seeing that look in your eyes as everyone in Hooch’s class shouts, “Up!” with excitement, and you sit there, alone on the bleachers as you watch. 

As you watch your whole class fly off, Emma giving you a small, concerned look, and a tight-lipped, forceful smile forms on your lips, assuring you were fine.

She hates the way she can remember the smile leaving your lips as Emma leaves off for the race, then looking down with melancholy traced in your features.

I’m sorry.

The shorter brunette can’t stand the way you look at everyone fly off, knowing that someone that you know won’t be you will probably take your place in Quidditch. She can see it in your eyes, kicking the dirt, hoping that somehow you can kick the pain and broken limbs away.

This time, she can’t tear your eyes away from your tiny figure.

Yet she knows that you won’t even look at her, never noticing the sympathetic stares she gives you, replaced with the ones once filled with competition.

-

Emma’s voice is dull, almost like she doesn’t want to talk to Jenna after the incident.

“You’re seriously asking me to have Y/N talk to you?” she questions, looking at her with suspicion.

“Please, Em! It’s been a month, and I’ve been trying to apologize.”

The blonde crosses her arms, trying to defend you, “Well what if she doesn’t want to talk to you or apologize?”

“I don’t care!” Jenna throws her arms in the air, “I know what I did was wrong and if I’m being honest, class is getting boring without having her competition and silly remarks behind my back.”

Jenna freezes, what she says kind of sounds weird.

Emma hums, then she turns to Jenna, “So, what are you saying Jenna?”

“I care about her!” She groans, rubbing her cheeks, “I’m starting to think that I’ve cared about her since I met her but didn’t know till my actions got her hurt. I was going to apologize but now I’m shitting desperate. She won’t get out of my mind and.. I don’t know!”

Jenna groans, trying to think of what this was, “I just keep thinking about the things she doesn’t do anymore, and it’s sad not having her by my side. I feel guilty. And I need to apologize even more so she can get out of my head! Em, please, I can’t get that stupid silly cute smile out of my head. And I can’t damn focus knowing that the girl that sits next to me in McGonagall is full on avoiding me!”

She doesn’t realize the way she’s been rambling, she looks at Emma, whose face expression has changed. In some way, she’s slightly having a grin on her face, “You’re in love with her.”

“What? I don’t know! Maybe, I just-I feel bad, and I want to apologize and make it okay again. It’s just so dull and I’ll.. I don’t even fucking know. I just miss her and the way it used to be.”

“You should’ve told me that,” your soft voice sing-songs from behind her, making her tense up and turn around.

“Y/N,” Jenna stutters.

“Jenna,” you mumble, voice slightly breathy.

“I didn’t think you were-” she squeals in surprise as you drag her by the arm, panting softly as you drag her into a room, god who knows what Hogwarts classroom this is.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry, but why are we in someones-mmph.” You seal her lips with a random spell under your lips and you place your finger to her mouth. 

You slightly smirk, god she missed it, she looks down at your lips, she rolls her eyes, “Apologize to me and I’ll let you do what you’ve wanted to do.” You undo your spell, taking off your finger from her mouth as she begins to speak.

“Wha?-”

“Go on.”

You were teasing her, and she breathed, “Okay, I’m sorry. For hurting you, I know I went too far,” she was rambling as she speaks a little faster, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just felt more brave as much as I teased you and I know I went too far this time. And I promise I didn’t try to hurt you, I know how much Quidditch meant to you..” she gulps again, taking a breath. “What I did led to a lot of things, and I’ve noticed the way I grew upset when I knew you began to avoid me, and I’ll admit I miss you.” Jenna says the last part hesitantly.

The brunette looked up at you and you were looking at her, hesitant eyes, but almost filled with need? She now noticed the more visible cut on your eye, and you look away, seeing her gaze on the mark you were most insecure on, you cover your face.

“Stop that,” Jenna smacks your hands away and it feels like her hesitation swept away, she slowly reached up to cup your cheeks, in which your uncertainty melted. She looks at the mark, it was better than when she saw you unconscious on the floor. That’s all that matters. She wants to roll her eyes but now she feels weird when she does that.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Just a little.”

"I'm sorry about Quidditch."

"I'm still angry about that, my arm should heal soon though, before it starts."

.. An awkward silence passes, then you look down at her pink lips.

Jenna hums, then you tug her closer, making a small whine.

“Please kiss me.”

Jenna’s eyes widen, taking her hands away from your cheeks.

“What?”

“Please,” you plead, your eyes filled with want.

Her eyes flicker from your lips as she cups your cheeks again and brings you to her mouth. As they meet, you’re all small and soft moans, kissing her with need. Hunger. It’s different. Teasing you doesn’t come with words, she’s teasing you with her mouth, feeling the way you grip onto her. 

More more more, don’t stop.

You taste exactly how Jenna thought you would, but just so much better. So addicting, it makes her mind spin with you. Coca cola and addictive vanilla. It mixes well with the taste of hers, you let her capture your tongue. It’s feverish, tongue and want combined. She indulges in the way you make a tiny moan as she nibbles your tongue. Your wanting lips push harder to hers, your body pressing against her as you slightly find something to grind against.

It’s heated and different. She tugs you closer, finding it adorable as you pull away for a tiny breath, then continue, like you don’t want to stop feeling her lips on yours. Her hands. Your fingers tugging against her hair.

Long moments after you pull away, you both are panting, your head buried deep into her chest. She rubs your hair.

“I didn’t think you were that experienced,” you whisper.

She rolls her eyes, pressing her lips to your forehead, “I didn’t think you’d pull me into a room and start begging me to kiss you and make out with you.”

“Mm..”

“Well, did my kisses grant your forgiveness for me?

“Maybe.”

“What if I give you another round?”

She smirks, seeing the way you lean back into her.

“Deal.”

She presses her lips that just left yours once again, feeling your hands tangle back into her hair.

[ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater]

The Blessing to Your Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hey y’all I’m back again so soon with another fic, Sukuna’s lover reincarnation (whatever you call it) has me in a chokehold right now and I thought I’d share this with the world. Would like to warn you there is a lot of strange jumping around/pov changes which are indicated by the change in pronouns, I would mark each change but it would get a bit messy after a while so I hope it’s not too hard to follow! ^-^

Reader’s powers involve something I like to call ‘blessed energy’ which is the opposite to cursed energy and is mostly used for healing (reverse blessed energy is used to harm in the same way reverse CE is used to heal) and it’s something I created to use with my writings in the JJK universe. (sometimes I write it a little op because im a self-indulgent piece of shit so for most of what I post I’ll probably dial it back if I use it hehe) The reader has a similar situation to Maki/Mai (MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD) where one twin is restricted and the other has all the energy, and when the one with the energy dies the living twin gains all the power, so I hope that makes sense in context of the story

(PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO SEND A REQUEST!!!! I'M ALWAYS IN NEED OF NEW PROMPTS AND CHARACTERS TO GO WITH THEM ❤)(I have a post which outlines characters I mostly write for but I'm open to adding to that list!!)

Warnings: mild description of mutilation (sukuna’s transformation), main character death (not described), fluff

Word count: 2.4k

“Ryomen!” You laugh, trying to keep a few steps ahead of the young man who chases after you. Your legs tire easily, body frail and sick despite the immense power flowing through your veins. “I’m coming for you!” He growls playfully, “Better run!” He’s holding back from his top speed, this you know well, but you refuse to let that stop you from trying to keep up with his childish play. Still young, 16 and 17 with him being the older one, you insist that you would rather spend the rest of your life here with him than being shepherded around in the village like a priestess.

This is your only escape from the temple on the hill, only solitude, your time with Ryomen Sukuna is precious and you treat it as such, thinking only of him and his rare smiles. You refuse to let the village’s words taint your view of him, as powerful as he is with his cursed energy there is good in him and you seek to nurture it, for both simple selfish gain and so he doesn’t turn on everyone like they did him. You reach the treeline and race out into the meadow, the grass tall and soft around your waist having stripped down from your daily ceremonial robes into just modest loose undergarments.

He does eventually catch up near the middle of the meadow, springing out of the grass and tackling you to the ground, making sure to roll so you land on top of him and he takes the full force of the fall. The last time you returned to the village after a long day of simple play with bruises and scrapes you weren’t allowed to leave the village for a few weeks.

He’s grown quite a lot larger than you during his time in exile, to be expected when you have to fend for yourself against wild animals and build your own shelter, “You’re getting stronger every day,” You smile, pushing yourself off him and laying in the grass, staring up at the beautiful pink of the sunset. “Well I have to, to be able protect you, I’m not the only thing out there you know,” He says, his tone almost too blasé for what he’s implying. You tilt your head and trace the lines of his tattoos with your eyes, “I know you’re not, but you’re not a thing to me Ryomen,” You murmur, “Please, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, you’ve always been human to me,”

He meets your gaze, his eyes used to be brown, but the red no longer worries you like it used to, “One day I’ll get you out of that village,” He says softly, his words for your ears and the rustling grass only, “I will take you far away from here and we can live somewhere untouched by the rest of the world,” You sit up, looking down at him as you hug your knees to your chest, “I’d like that,” You say, smiling, “Just the two of us,” Nothing could touch you while you were together, the world stood still for you, not even the scathing remarks you sometimes got from the other young girls of the village could hurt you.

The world is volatile, things can change so quickly. Curses are still so new to the world of humans, sorcerers that act as protectors are only just starting to appear among humans and spread themselves between villages when the day finally comes. The wave of hatred and anguish that came with the curses suffocated everything in its path. You were outside the village when it happened, returning from a visit with Sukuna, and you returned to find nothing but death and destruction. More than half of the village had been killed with no discrimination towards age or gender, and it only soothed you a little to see your old family home empty when you wrenched the door open. No blood nor bodies of any kind. Your parents and sister had made it out alive, but the temple atop the hill that you resided in was completely engulfed.

You weren’t naïve, you did not attempt to return to the temple, but they came for you all the same because your energy was like a beacon for them, and they were programmed to destroy. Running with Ryomen had improved your strength over the time you spent together, you supposed that was one of the ways he took care of you in his silent brooding way, but it wasn’t enough to get you all the way to him. He must have sensed your fear as you grew nearer, your breaths shallow and your chest tight, his eyes are the last thing you remember seeing before your soul was harshly liberated from your flesh.

The smell of blood permeated through layers of warmth that held you in suspension beyond life, but you felt yourself being dragged back to the ground, standing over your own body as you watch the only person outside of your immediate family who ever truly cared for you cry. You had never seen him cry before, it was cathartic to know even he still felt human somewhere inside while holding your weak broken body to his bare tattooed chest.

You felt his cursed energy filling the air like smoke, almost able to see it in the purgatory state you’re trapped in, his body shaking and his muscles twitching. It was like watching someone turn themselves inside out when it finally happened, his body began changing before your eyes, an extra pair of arms sprout from the top of his ribcage just under the normal ones. His face contorts with an agonized cry and one half becomes unrecognisable, the flesh pink and hardened into some sort of twisted mask, and to finish the monstrous transformation a second pair of eyes open under his regular ones.

Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as he cradles you, you hear him make one last promise, one that locks around what remains of your essence like chains and puts you into a deep sleep. “I will burn this world for taking you from me, I will become the King of Curses, and when you are reborn I shall make you remember, make you my Queen, I will bind myself to you to protect you,” It’s the final part that reassures you he isn’t losing himself as the darkness consumes you, “When I find you, the world will be right once again,”

Now it had been over a thousand years since the light in Sukuna’s life had gone out, reducing him to a killing machine that punished the world for snuffing it out, and he had returned once more in the body of a naive 15 year old boy with pink hair. Having been preserved as twenty separate cursed objects since his untimely death he was eager to resume his self-assigned purge, but the boy had more control over his body than Sukuna could break through, leaving him trapped within his innate domain watching through Yuji Itadori’s eyes like they’re windows.

“I had to do it at least once,” He grumbles to himself as the boy sits up, stark naked, on the morgue table, surprising the three sorcerers in the room with the formerly dead boy. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Yuji, come,” Gojo instructs as the boy slips on some clothes handed to him. “Another sorcerer?” He asks. “You’ll see when we get there,” The taller man beckons him and they make their way to a house on the furthest outskirts of the Jujutsu high campus, small in size and surrounded by forest on all sides except for the path leading up to the entrance.

A fire burns in the chimney and the house is warm when the pair steps inside, “L/n!” Gojo calls out. Sukuna’s attention is elsewhere as around the corner down the hall out walks a pure angel, her energy blinding and her form strong. “Gojo!” She smiles, “Who’s this?” “This is Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel,” She bows politely, “Welcome to my home,” She looks back up into Yuji’s eyes as he smiles, “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Enchain!” Sukuna shouts, and suddenly he’s thrown violently to the forefront of Yuji’s mind. His trump card, wasted. He hadn’t considered the potential consequences, it had been instinctual and foolish of him. The girl didn’t know who he was, but he wanted to speak to her all the same. He would make her know. He cannot stumble, he cannot falter, not when she’s right there and all he has to do is show her, “Y/n,” He murmurs. “That’s not Yuji,” She frowns, her voice soft, “That’s-” Before the two can react Sukuna is on his knees before her, holding her hands in his and hiding against her soft clothing. “I’ve…” Gojo trails off, “I’ve never seen that before,” The girl doesn’t let him go, and he feels her power reach into him, feeling around in the darkest parts of his soul, “My Queen,” He mutters, feeling the metaphysical chains around his heart tighten, “Please, remember,”

A fast surge of energy from Gojo causes the man on his knees before you to react just as quickly, pulling you tighter against him and then seemingly teleporting out the open door into the clearing, “It’s rude to attack ROYALTY!” He roars as Gojo steps out the door after the pair of you. Sukuna has planted himself firmly between the two of you, “You sorcerers never learn manners!” Something happens when your skin next touches his, his hand shooting out to catch you by your wrist as you fail to keep your balance.

A flood of memories that don’t belong to you, in fact, ones that belong to him. You see yourself, weak and frail but smiling widely, Sukuna as he is in front of you now not as he is described in sorcerer texts. A regular human man with an abnormal amount of tattoos, fiercely protective and full of love for the only person who still sees him as human. You vaguely feel yourself fall to your knees as everything from the day he was exiled to the day you died returned to your mind. You knew that despite the life you had lived for twenty years, you were in fact over a thousand years old.

This wasn’t your life, this wasn’t your body, it was hers, but you are her. You can feel the chains, too, the ones he put there the day you died to ensure that you would return. “The world took her from me, and the world paid the price, now BACK OFF!” His words shake you out of your visions, his hand still clutching your wrist as your head hangs weakly.

“Come now, Sukuna, taking hostages isn’t your style, you know that,” Gojo bargains, “Let her go, and we can fight like men,” You shake your head, “No,” You murmur, “No, Gojo,” You finally look up into his eyes, slightly uncovered as he prepares to fight, “He’s right, I know who I am, I know where my clan comes from,” He doesn’t make a move towards you and you take the opportunity to speak again, “My mother was blessed, her child would calm the beast, but she had two and one was weak in body strong in energy, the other was lacking in energy but strong of body,” Your sister had been the one the clan records mentioned, nobody remembered the girl who died alone in Ryomen Sukuna’s arms.

“I am the Queen to Ryomen Sukuna’s King,” You breathe, feeling his grip on your wrist go lax. His energy dies away and he falls to his hands and knees, but the tattoos are gone. “Yuji!” Gojo’s shoulders finally relax and he recovers his eyes, “What happened? How did he get through?” “Don’t ignore me, Satoru,” You state firmly, “Sukuna will not be a threat while I am alive,” “Can you guarantee that?” He’s always been intimidating, but this man was a part of your training as a sorcerer, and he can be rational when he wants to be.

“You’re an imbecile if you think I’m going to go back on a binding vow,” Sukuna spits from Yuji’s cheek, the boy not even having a chance to get a word in, “She is the only thing in this forsaken world I care about and you’re not about to take that away from me just so you can pretend like you’re the saviour of humanity,” You don’t remember ever being as harsh as Sukuna is right now, but his rage fills you with confidence and admiration, “I can guarantee humans will not fall as long as I am alive, his vow makes sure of it, though I’m sure he would not need it either way,”

The secondary eye on Yuji’s cheek closest to you locks its gaze onto you, “Ever so cunning, I wish I’d had the chance to nurture your hatred towards the village, maybe you’d be more open to killing,” He sounds almost wistful, “But alas, I did make a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter how idiotic I think you sorcerers are,” You finally move to stand back on your feet, helping Yuji up with a tentative smile, “It’s nice to meet you Itadori,” You murmur, “I’m sorry you have to listen to that punk, you come to me if he gives you trouble alright?” The boy nods, his previously cheery demeanour replaced with something mellower and he seems deep in thought as he looks into your eyes.

“He really loves you,” He murmurs in disbelief, “I didn’t… I didn’t think he was truly capable of love, after what he did to me,” You shrug, “It’ll make sense one day, but I’ll let him be the one who opens up, it’s not my place to air out thousand year old dirty laundry with people who are long dead anyway,” Your words hang in the air as Gojo finally sighs. The discussion and conclusion are finalised when he leaves, Yuji will live with you and you will suppress Sukuna’s energy. You will keep the world safe by preserving your life, lest another binding vow come down upon your departing soul and the King of curses be forced to unleash his merciless fury once more.

Sukuna is a little shit and out of character because it’s my fic and I get to write the male love interest however I want (I tried besties :( I don’t like mean Sukuna but I do love “I hate everyone but you” so that’s what you get) also I wrote this instead of sleeping at 2am, the brainrot is real and this will probably end up being a series because I can’t control myself

Part 2 here!

Post dividers from @cafekitsune

[live-love-be-unique]

For the lovely @deadbranch 💕 This was inspired by the 50 word challenge and felt too good not to expand on a little more!

Price Gave You An Order

Your teammates could only stand and watch in horror as the helicopter you were piloting was hit in the tail rotor and went into a tailspin before crashing into the cliff face. Price had called in the air strike, they were cornered and needed immediate cover if they were going to make it out alive. He’d expected one of the other pilots to show up. You’d answered the call as soon as Laswell had called it in.

You’d managed to evade a number of enemy attacks but one had taken a lucky shot and it had nailed you. Your helicopter, which you’d named Boudica after the famous warrior queen who took on the Romans, was destroyed on impact.

Just as the team believed you had been.

Your dejected teammates were safe, the explosion of your helicopter took out the remaining enemy but at a great cost. Price stood, his body felt like cement; he’d just watched you die when this morning you’d been discussing dinner plans.

Ghost had to physically drag him from going into the burning wreckage to search for your body “no!” He shouted “I’m not leaving her!” As he tried to run towards the burning wreckage.

Soap had heard it first. Movement in the scrub behind them. He grunted, raising his gun, preparing for a new onslaught of bullets. “You’re alive?!” Soap cried out incredulously. The rest of the 141 turn to see you; stumbling out of the scrub, still strapped into your parachute, struggling to make your way towards them as it snagged on a branch. You’d managed to ditch right before you hit the cliff.

Soap and Gaz clapped you on the shoulder, cheering “that was badass bonnie!” and “so sick!”, even Ghost offered a “nice job” for your actions. Price stood off to the side, stock stil, watching with a grim look on his face before turning at the sound of another helicopter approaching your position for evac.

Not a word from Price the whole flight back to your makeshift base either as you made small talk with your teammates and the pilot.

Landing, you were immediately dragged into a briefing. For the loss of your helicopter the mission had been successful, the enemies base destroyed, congratulatory praises were passed around the room before Price rounded on you, glaring daggers into your eyes.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“I was doing my job!”

“I gave you an order!” Price bellowed as your teammates cleared the room, not wanting to be in the firing line when mum and dad were fighting.

“I followed it!” You shouted back. A deep sigh passed his lips as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I’m not talking about the mission” he conceded “I told you to come back to me alive…I almost lost you” he said, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, thumb stroking against your warm skin.

Leaning into his touch. His hand moved to the back of your head as he brought you against his warm broad chest. “I need you love, I can’t do this without you anymore” his voice cracked as he held you close.

“John” you sigh “I wasn’t going to leave you there, if anyone was going to bring you home it was going to be me”

Price leaned his forehead against yours “stubborn bird” he smirked.

“Grumpy old man” you laugh “plus you owe me a new helicopter”

His chest rumbled against your cheek as he laughed “I’ll see what I can do”

[freedomfireflies]

pussy plug pt. 2 today?? 👀

Harry is angry with you.

Even without the explicit words, you can tell by the shift in his expression that you’ve displeased him. That he’s refraining from dragging you out of this restaurant and into the hallway so he can have a word.

You don't mean to, really. But what does he expect after edging you for hours and then plugging you full of his cum? Forcing you to sit through this prolonged evening with nothing more than some tantalizing memories and promises of release to hold you over?

“Bee,” comes the low warning, discreetly whispered into your ear as you both await the arrival of your parents. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“Can’t help it,” you pant quietly, hand on his thigh as you squeeze for dear life. “You keep turning it up—”

“And I also keep telling you to hold it,” he hisses, scooting closer as if to hide you from the rest of the restaurant. “Are you gonna disobey me, baby girl? Are you gonna make me put you over my knee in front of everybody in this goddamn room?”

You squirm a bit harder in your seat, lashes fluttering quickly as you wrestle against your orgasm. “Har, please—”

“No.” His rejection is resolute, his voice thick with disappointment. “You are not to cum until I say so.” 

You suck in a sharp gasp as a wave of pleasure explodes between your thighs, the tip of the plug lightly grazing the bottom of your chair. “H, I can’t…I can’t hold it, I’m sorry—”

“You will,” he reminds you, fingers curling around the edge of your seat as if to warn you. “You fucking will, Bee, or I’ll spank you right here in front of your parents. Is that what you want? Want your dad to see you get punished by your daddy?”

You’d slap him if this were any other time, but right now, you devote your energy to keeping the orgasm at bay. Nearly sweating from the strain. “Harry—”

“No,” he repeats, a bit icier than before as his eyes flick toward something just behind you. “Promised you’d be my good girl. So I want you to be good and fucking take it. Yeah? Fucking take it.”

With that, he’s standing from his chair, a wide smile on his face as you wilt by the table.

“Maggie, Richard, so nice to see you,” he calls loudly, arm outstretching to welcome your parents closer, and that’s when it hits you.

Because suddenly, the vibrations from the plug are abruptly changing in rhythm, and it’s exactly what you’d needed to tip you over. You try to fight it, you really do, but it washes over you like a fucking wave until you’re choking on a gasp and shivering in your seat.

Nobody else seems to notice, with Harry quickly stepping in front of your body to block you from any prying eyes.

But you’re humiliated, nonetheless, and it’s all you can do to keep from whimpering right then and there.

After a bit of small talk, your parents sweep around the table to take their place on the other side. Exchanging their greetings with you as you finally begin to find your footing again.

“Oh, honey, are you getting sick?” your mother coos, hand on her cheek in worry. “You look a little warm.”

“I’m…no, I’m all right,” you manage to stammer, ignoring Harry’s smug smile from beside you. “It’s just hot in here. How was your drive?”

“Absolutely dreadful,” she sighs. “The traffic was a nightmare, we didn’t move for at least an hour, I mean…I don’t know how you two put up with it every day.”

And thus begins the lively reenactment of their journey, with your father nodding along dutifully while you and Harry attempt to listen.

And you’re happy for the distraction because at least it means you’re offered a moment of reprieve. Even though you know Harry is currently stewing from beside you. Unable to reprimand you the way he’s so apt to do.

However, your momentary escape from his wrath is brought to a sudden halt when your parents declare they’d like to wash up. Standing from the table and disappearing toward the bathroom, thus leaving the two of you to…chat.

“Well, well, well,” is the first thing he murmurs once you’re alone. “Obeyed me for all of…what? Twenty seconds?”

Swallowing thickly, you glance over. “It’s not my fault. You kept turning it up—”

“Because you kept cumming without my permission,” he retorts, nodding his chin toward your thighs. “And after I was kind enough to keep you nice and full.”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you lean a bit closer and whisper, “I’m sorry, okay? I really tried. Really, really. But it just…it was too much. I won’t do it again, I swear—”

“Oh, you will,” he interrupts again, forcing you to blink at him. “No, yeah. If you wanna act like a brat and cum whenever you feel like it, then I’ll let you cum. Let you cum as many fucking times as you want.”

The switch in tactics nearly makes your head spin, and you look over his expression curiously. “Okay…?”

“In fact, I’d like you to cum at least two more times while we’re at this table,” he tells you, and instantly, your heart drops. “Think you can do that, baby girl?”

“Har…Harry, you aren’t…you can’t be serious—”

“I think you can,” he decides for you, ignoring your outrage. “And I think you will. Think you’ll cum as many times as I’d like. Won’t you?”

And you want to respond – want to scream at him for this sadistic little game – but your parents are sliding back up before you get the chance. Forcing you to do nothing but gawk at him.

Pleased, he leans back over, and hums, “Starting right fucking now.”

With that, he hits a button on his phone, and brings the vibrating pussy plug back to life. Instantly shoving you up that peak of pleasure as your poor, overstimulated cunt is toyed with yet again.

You cough to hide a gasp, and you’re lucky that your parents are otherwise distracted by their menus to notice.

But Harry notices.

He always notices.

As the evening progresses, you attempt to keep your thighs pressed tightly together. Attempt to avoid any extra stimulation or accidental grazing to the plug. But Harry is on a mission, and his insistence on making you orgasm is relentless.

“Bee,” he warns quietly as your parents begin to relay their order to the waiter, “none of that. I want you to keep your legs spread, yeah? So I can have a feel. Make sure you’re doing what I asked.”

You bite back a glare – while also biting at your lip – and bring your eyes to his. “Har…I can’t, really. Please…please—”

“Shh,” he whispers, scooting closer to press a seemingly harmless kiss to your cheek. “Yes you can. And I don’t want any complaining. You asked for this, didn’t you? By disobeying? You asked to be punished.”

“No,” you argue quietly, head shaking. “No, I promise. I tried. I really tried—”

“I know,” he finally concedes with a sympathetic coo, running his hand over your back soothingly. “I know, baby girl, but you didn’t try hard enough. I know you can do better, yeah? So I’m gonna make you do better. And this is how I do that.”

Whimpering softly, you plead with him through a frown, desperately needing his mercy more than ever.

However, he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand merely moving down to your lap as his fingers curl around your thigh firmly. “What did I say, hm? Want them open, Bee.”

You force your expression to remain stoic and unbothered as Harry’s hand continues to tug your leg closer to him. Creating the perfect space for access while he shoots a grin toward your parents from across the table. And keeping his little game a secret.

Leaning into his shoulder, you turn your face and try again. “Harry, please—”

However, his hand simply squeezes the top of your thigh from beneath your dress, and you choke on a whine as you pretend not to notice. “All you had to do was behave, baby girl. All you had to do was sit here, nice and full of my cum, until I could take care of it for you. So I could take that pretty little plug out and have a taste of us.”

Your lashes flutter, and it’s getting harder to pretend as though the two of you are engaging in nothing more than innocent conversation.

“But you just had to cum. Just had to disobey me. And now…” His thumb suddenly finds the tip of the plug and he grazes it softly before shooting you a smirk. “…I’m gonna make you sit here at this table. All goddamn night while cum as many times as I see fit.”

Reeling, you shoot him a piteous look for leniency, to which he merely grins.

“And you?” He presses his finger against the toy – hard. “You’re you’re gonna fucking take it.”

Previous Part:

~ Harry and Bee Use A Pussy Plug*

- Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposva @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @harrysxcarolina @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream @finelinesss

[jakexneytiri]

hii here are some ideas/deets from my last request <3

- scenario where y/n has like a super rough pregnancy and she’s always sick and vomiting. Lots of fluff but also kind of angst idk??!! the kids are worried abt her and neteyam as well so he takes on all 4 kids by himself and lets y/n rest

- neteyam and y/n have their 5th baby and the details on the birth and all the other kids meet the baby and its just a lot of fluff!! and jake and neytiri meet the baby too as well as loak, kiri, tuk

IM SO EXCITED IF U WRITE THESE OMG AND TAKE UR TIME <3

AWEEE i love your mind! (the second part of your request is comingggg, i’ll post it when it’s finished :D)

in sickness and in health

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

a sharp jolt of pain surges through your abdomen, forcing you awake as you sit up, wincing. you gently place your hand on your lower stomach, feeling strong kicks right where your hand is placed. you begin to take short, shallow breaths, as another kick lands just below your ribcage.

your mouth begins to salivate as you grab the pot closest to you. you knew the feeling all too well. it’s been happening every morning for the past several months. sweat beads on your forehead, collecting and dripping down your face, while your entire body feels like it’s overheating. that familiar feeling returns to the back of your throat, causing you to gag. you begin dry heaving, which turns into vomiting everything you consumed the night prior.

meanwhile, neteyam is just outside of your marui, peeking through the flap every now and then to keep an eye on you. truthfully, he’s been worried sick about you, especially these past few months. you both are familiar with all the symptoms of pregnancy. you’ve been pregnant four times now. but it’s never been this bad. so, he decided to give neytiri a page through his throat comm, hoping she might have some answers to your worsening symptoms.

“mother, is this normal?…yes, she’s still getting sick. it’s every morning, i thought you said that would stop. i don’t know what to do, how to help her…i feel so useless. i just want to ease her pain, please…” his voice cracks with his last beg. “please help me help h-” his ears perk up to the sound of you vomiting. “i must go. it is happening again. please send grandmother!”

neteyam quickly opens the flap, seeing you doubled over, emptying the contents of your stomach into the pot he set aside for you. guilt courses through him, settling like a rock in the bottom of his stomach as he hastily makes his way to you.

you feel your mate’s warm hand run along your back, attempting to comfort you while his other hand holds the braids out of your face. once you’re certain you’ve thrown up everything in your system, you sit back against the wall of your home.

neteyam goes to move the pot outside, as to not make you more nauseous. he grabs a bowl of water as he makes his way back to you, guilt clawing at his insides.

you slightly pull your knees to your chest, as best as you can with being pregnant, and bury your face in your arms, sobbing.

neteyam kneels beside you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. it broke his heart in two seeing you like this.

just then, you hear the flap to your marui open, revealing your four children, with jake, neytiri, and mo’at. neteyam looks up, glaring at his mother and father, speaking through gritted teeth. “i thought you weren’t supposed to be back for a few more hours.”

“yeah, we weren’t expecting this either. it’s an emergency, we gotta go.” jake quickly says, holding the flap open.

“what? dad-sir…i’m not leaving her!” neteyam begins to raise his voice, fist clenched at his side as his other hand is still rubbing your back.

“neteyam.” neytiri gently says. “we would not ask if it was not necessary.”

you give your mate’s arm a gentle squeeze, silently encouraging him to go. “it is all right,” you speak, your voice extremely hoarse. “grandmother is here, i’ll be okay.”

“we gotta go, now!” jake’s yelling now, and neteyam stands, quickly grabbing his bow before kneeling to kiss your forehead. “i love you. i’m so sorry, i’ll be back soon, okay?”

Neteyam turns one last time to lock eyes with you, before being yanked away by his parents.

“mama? where’s daddy going?” se’ayl asks, looking at the flap where her grandparents and father just exited.

i want to go with him!” tsantu states, a firm grip on the bow strung around his shoulder.

“mom, i’m tired.” txonuk yawns, stretching his arms above his head and curling up to your side.

nima gently stretches her hands over your protruding stomach, shifting them around a few inches. “wanna feel kicks!”

“children, please!” mo’at exclaims. “let your mother rest.” she begins taking out herbs and plants from her satchel, mixing them with water in a large bowl.

“it’s all right…” you say weakly. “daddy’s going hunting with grandma and grandpa, he’ll be back soon. you can’t go with him, it’s only a trip for adults. you know what, txonuk? mama’s sleepy too. how about we all lay down for a nap, and when we wake up, grandpa grandma and daddy will all be back!”

you shift forward slightly, so your head is resting on your pillow instead of your back. txonuk curls right up to your side, draping your arm over himself like a blanket. se’ayl and tsantu follow, laying beside you comfortably. nima rests her head on your stomach, ear perked up against your skin to “listen” to the baby. mo’at raises the bowl she’s been preparing to your lips. “drink, child. it will help with the nausea.”

you lift your head up, parting your lips just enough for the cool liquid to ease its way down your throat. “thank you, grandmother.”

mo’at nods, setting the bowl aside. “you may rest, i will keep watch until they return.”

“no, no…i can………..stay……………….awake…….” your eyelids droop with exhaustion as you speak, and as you speak your last word, they stay closed. you finally succumb to a comfortable sleep, as you wait for your mate to return.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

[hxltic]

• established relationship

•Genre: smut

You’re in the lonesome bathroom of the party correcting your makeup when Rin suddenly makes his way through the door. He hastily closes it behind him. How it wasn’t locked? You have no idea.

You expected his arrival, just not as grand as this. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t new to always call and find each other as if seeking refuge. The mirror reflects his hands trudging up his face to brush through his hair, meanwhile the mascara wand waved idly in your hand when you quipped, “Who ya running from?”

A course “Nobody” was all you received. You thought he’d just come in and sit on the toilet seat to talk or waste time with you.

Finding a stopping point, you turned to him and your fresh eyes trailed his body leaning on the door. He looked paler than usual, dark hair falling over his weaker, heavily red-tinted face. The mascara clicked into the bottle and tightened as you twisted.

“Rin are…are you okay?”

He sighed and one hand fell to the doorknob while the other fell to his pocket.

“…If I’m being completely honest, no. Come here please,” he huffed out. He was breathless like he rushed up here to you. You guess it was a random call from him that you put on speaker over the trap music, however, you didn’t ask why he needed to see you so instantaneously.

You took slow, incredulous footsteps forward to his chest in the already tight space. Clearly you weren’t fast enough because he cupped your face—both hands—and tugged you close.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your eyes focused on each of his earnestly. “You know I love you right?”

“Yes.” A distrusting countenance slowly morphed onto your face, matching your previous steps.

“You know you look so fucking good, right?”

“…Rin where is this-“

“-I think my drink was spiked. My drink was spiked with something and I’m saying I’m sorry now because I am just one fucking word away from bending you over this counter. It needs to be yours.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you examined his face again, confirming he did look a little sick. Except not the coughing sick; the lightheaded, desperate need that can make you delusional sick. You were terrified to look down.

“But won’t that stuff still be in your system? you need to throw it up or something before-“

“I can’t be sure but it doesn’t feel out of the ordinary, like a viagra or something. I’ll do whatever you want after. Just need to be inside of you in the next ten seconds before I pass out.”

He was rambling in a pitch slightly higher than usual, desperation seeping off his words. His chest motioned up and down with each difficult breath he took gazing into your eyes, upturned brows not-very-patiently awaiting your response. Hey, it was a party after all.

You kept your eyes trained but turned to give yourself up to him.

The slim eyes lit up. A single palm forced you down by the middle of your upper back, effectively bending you over. He did it so swiftly you could’ve taken it as routine.

Hands situated and caressed your waist in admiration, hips following suit as you pressed them back into him. His fingertips dug holes through the sequin covered fabric and into your skin, the obvious print rubbed right between your legs with the dress flipped up, and the friction was sending him away.

Oh god he needed it so bad, all his hormones at peak and the first thing on his mind being you. He knew he needed to stretch you out and he knew how especially good that pretty pussy would taste spread for him on the counter, but his dick was quite literally throbbing.

He may have realized it a little late considering he had a high sex-drive anyway, but this was something completely different. He was so hard it hurt. So when he called you, shoving through people as you gave him your location in the house, he was already overheating from swarming throngs of people and the alcohol swimming through his blood.

So when your slit rolled perfectly over him he had to undo his pants immediately.

“I can leave it to you to wear no panties to a party.”

“Gotta give ‘em a show,” you giggle.

With the clank of his belt and its drop to the floor, he taunted, “Only one of us is taking the show home.”

Suna was already a pretty impatient person, so when a finger dipped into you slow and welcoming he had to add another. A squelch sound came from the way he pumped into you as if you were already ready to take him.

[silverstar70]

Fandom: Criminal minds Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: English isn't my first language, i apologize for any mistakes. This is set after 10x21 ending.

Summary: Hotch finds a way to deal with what Mr.Scratch and Y/N is happy to help and comforts him.

Warnings: estabilished relationship, smut, rough sex, vaginal sex, consensual sex, voice kink, praise kink, orgasm control, spanking, vaginal fingering, non consensual drug use, mind control, hurt/confort, blood and violence, character death

Words count: 5,466k Hope you like it and let me know what you think! Enjoy it!

What do you want?

Hotch was sitting in the ambulance with Dave near him. He was trying to get him to talk to know what had happened in that house before they arrived, but every attempt was wasted. Hotch seemed to be on another planet. Y/N walked away from Morgan and JJ and headed to the ambulance. When Rossi saw Y/N, he went up to her, leaving Hotch alone.

“He didn’t say anything. Maybe you’ll get luckier.”

“I’ll bring him home and talk to him” he nodded and kissed Y/N goodbye on her forehead before leaving her behind and join the rest of the team. She walked to Hotch and offered him her hand.

“Let’s go home” she said softly. He looked up to her for a moment with his eyes full of pain and sadness but didn’t say anything. He just took her hand tightly than she expected and got up, ready for her to bring him home.

The car ride was silent. It was like Hotch wasn’t even there, Y/N occasionally looked toward him just to make sure he was okay. She was sicked worried and didn’t know what to do to help him.

“Jack is staying with Jessica tonight. I thought it was for the best” she informed him but only received a mumbled okay. She kept driving until they arrived at his building. Parked the car and went straight to his apartment.

Once inside, Y/N went to prepare something to eat for both of them while Hotch crushed on the couch still fully dressed. Neither of them was hungry but they hadn’t eaten anything since that morning. When she was done, she put a plate in front of him with some leftovers and a scrambled eggs but he refused to eat.

“Hotch, babe, you need to eat something. At least try, please” he remained silent once again.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked caressing his cheek but only got a no as answer. An hour passed and he still hadn’t touched his food. Standing, leaning against the wall that separated the living room from the dining room, Y/N was watching Hotch laying on the couch with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. She wanted to help him but all he was doing was shutting her out.

“You don’t wanna talk. You don’t wanna eat. What do you wanna do, Aaron?”

After a moment he sat on the couch and looked at her with a smirk.

“I wanna fuck you until tomorrow morning. You won’t be able to walk later.” He said serious keeping looking into her eyes.

“I’m serious Hotch” at that he stood up from the couch and walked slowly towards her, no leaving her look.

“So am I” he said with a low voice. He stopped a few steps away from her and he stretched out his arms against the wall. Y/N was trapped between his body and the wall, and his arms prevented her from leaving.

He bent his head forward, resting his lips on hers, but she coolly returned the kiss. His stubbornness was driving her crazy and she didn’t wanna gave up that easily but, slowly, pleasure begun to take place in her body. Hotch kept softly kissing her down her neck.

“I wanna hear you moan my name, Y/N” his low voice was making her wetter that she would’ve liked to admit. She was holding back her moaning whenever he kissed her and his look full of lust was begging her to give up. “I wanna make you cum so many times. You’ll beg me to stop.”

He kissed her one more time down her neck and then caressed her cheek gently. She wanted him right there and he knew it. He bent near her ear, while one of his hands founded place on her hip.

“Don’t resist me, baby.”

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine. She took his head in her hands, paying attention to the wound on his cheekbone, and kissed him intensely for several moments. He squeezed her against his body grabbing her by the hips and she felt his erection pressing against her. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist without breaking the kiss. He moaned in the kissed while holding her under her cheekbutts.

"Fuck, I love you so much” Hotch said against her lips as he carried her to the bedroom.

“Then show me” she replied provoking him. He hurried to the room, slamming the door behind him with his foot and slamming Y/N against it while still holding her. While her hands were in his hair, he kissed her roughly on her neck. She moaned softly and every time she did that, she felt his hardening cock under her.

Hotch pulled her away from the door and laid her on the bed, covering her body with his. His look was full of lust and craving, his eyes dark and intense. She was almost afraid of it, yet excitement kept growing for them both.

A hand slipped under her sweater, and her body recoiled at his cold touch. He slipped off her sweater and throw it away, revealing her naked chest. She started to unblock his belt while he was kissing her leaving hickeys all over her chest and neck. She then started working on his shirt, which she slipped off and dropped to the ground. He unbuttoned her jeans and slowly slipped them down her legs, not letting her gaze go.

“You’re perfect” he whispered to himself. She was enjoying the view of him standing at the end of the bed, in all his beauty, and unintentionally she began biting her lower lip. He also removed her panties before settling between her legs. He was covering her body with his once again and bent on her leaving wet kisses on her neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her hands started traveling along his strong back.

“You’ll do everything I say, including when cumming” he whispered in her ear while one of his hands slipped between their body reaching her center.

“And what if I don’t listen?” Y/N answered back with a provoking smile. Hotch roughly pushed two fingers inside her, as deep as he could taking her by surprise. He started to move them in circle making her gasped while enjoying the look of pure pleasure on her face.

“You don’t wanna find out” he begun to move faster, going deeper and deeper. He was enjoying himself watching her orgasm starting to build but didn’t wanna gave her one so soon, he slowed down making her groaned.

“You still have your pants on” she said between moans.

“Don’t worry about it” he kissed her roughly on the lips before pulling out his fingers and tasted her. “I wanna please you before I destroy you.”

He pushed back his finger inside and begun to move faster, building her orgasm. She moaned loudly and soon his other hand was on her mouth to stop her from being loud. She was so close to cum and he was torturing her.

“Please Hotch” she lamented.

“Please what? I didn’t say you could cum.” he kept going faster, back and forth. He was building her orgasms once again and she was desperate. She needed the release. He knew she was close; he was feeling it how she was clenching around him.

“Hold still.” She did what she was told but was failing, he decided to give in. “Cum for me, babe.”

She moaned out loud as a wave of pleasure was leaving her. She arched her back with Hotch’s fingers still inside her but he didn’t stop and started to move his finger again riding her orgasm. In a mere of seconds, she was close again.

“One more time, Y/N” he ordered in a low voice. That damn voice. She felt weak every time he used it. She came hard and loud for the second time that evening. Y/N felt like her body was leaving her and her mind went black. She loved how he made her feel, she loved even more how he made her cum.

 When she calmed down, he pulled his fingers out and kissed her forehead softly. He got up form the bed and disappear in the bathroom for a few seconds coming back with Y/N bathrobe’s belt. He took off his boxers and climbed on the bed pulling apart her legs so he could stand in between.

“Now, I wanna fuck you. And you won’t be able to touch me.”

That bastard. He knew she loved touching him, feeling his muscles tensing under her hands. He tied her wrists, not tight to hurt but tight enough to block her and pinned them over her head with one hand. With his free hand he slid his cock inside her, deep. They both groaned at the feeling.

Giving her very little time to adjust to his size, he started moving fast and deep for a sever mere of time. Holding her tight by her wrists, he bent over her groaning in her ears knowing she loved it. She was getting wetter and wetter and felt her orgasm building in the stomach. She was clenching around him which gave him a lot of pleasure, and he let her know by groaning louder.

“Aaron, p-please” she moaned “I-I’m close.”

He stopped and put a hand around her throat, without tightening.

“You’re not gonna cum yet.”

He pulled himself up and started fucking her again, going harder and deeper every time more. With a devilish smile on his face, he was looking down at his lover being overwhelmed by pleasure and completely at his mercy. He loved her so much, he loved how she was letting him using her in that moment.

She was a strong and independent woman and never in a million years she would bend over a man wants. But when it came to him, that was a different story. She loved to be dominated by him in bed and he loved doing it.

“My God, Aaron. P-please let me cum” she tried to say between moanings. With each thrust she felt losing control over her body. He grabbed her hips tightly and moved faster, ready to give her all the pleasure. Giving her a nod, that was all the permission she needed to cum.   

“Oh, fuck” she cried out loud, almost losing her voice. Hotch slowed down but didn’t stop until she calmed down once again. He bent to kiss her gently on her soft lips as to remind her, her Aaron was still there.

The belt around her wrist had tightened too much due to her squirming so he quickly untied her and started caressing her wrist. She noticed the worrying on his face and grab his head between her hands pulling him down, over her body, and kissed him again.

“I’m fine, honey” Y/N reassured him with a soft voice looking into his beautiful hazel eyes.

“You sure?” she nodded and received a quick kiss from him “Good. Because I’m not done”

He stood from the bed and helped Y/N doing the same. Without giving her time to say anything, he quickly bent her over the bed pulling her legs apart. Standing behind her, he pulled her hips onto him and entered hard and deep inside her.

“You’ll be a good girl and not cum until I said so. Understood?” he asked her and when she didn't answer right away, he slapped her ass hard enough to make her gasp "Understood?"

“Yes, yes I understood” she replied in excitement and a little pain. She was sure she had his handprint on her butt but couldn’t care less.

“Good girl” she could imagine the grin he had on his face. He started pounding her again from behind, holding her hips tight. He was groaning in pleasure not afraid of being loud for her to hear it. She loved hearing him moaning, it was so erotic and greeting to know he was comfortable enough to not holding back.

The room was filled by their skin slapping against each other and their loud moanings. She was holding tight on the sheets to try to control her body and wait for him to give her the permission to cum. She was close, so damn close.

“Don’t. Cum.”

“P-please, Hotch” Y/N begged whispering, not being able to control her body anymore. He stopped abruptly, taking a breath, and giving her time to cool down. He bent over Y/N and started kissing her spine, from the lower back up to the back of her neck.

She shivered at the feeling, he was kissing her like she was the most precious thing made of glass. Hotch loved being rough with her but being able to connect just by simple touches, soft kisses and small talking was something he would always love more.

“Cum with me” he whispered softly in her ear and she nodded. He stood one more time and interlocked their fingers taking her hands behind her back. He moved faster back and forth, never leaving her hands. Every thrust was perfectly placed, knowing full well what the effects on her body were.

She was craving the orgasm and Hotch’s could take it anymore. She was clenching around him and he was fighting to gain some control. Seconds later she came hard followed by him.

“Oh God!” they groaned in union. He released her hands and kissed her shoulder, gently caressing her side with his fingertips.

“Wait here” he whispered and gave her one last peck on her back before pulling out slowly, she gasped at the loss of contact but didn’t move. He quickly disappeared in the bathroom and soon she heard the water running.

“Let’s take a quick shower” he suggested reentering the room. Helping her getting up, Hotch saw she was walking funny and smiled to himself.

“Don’t laugh. Aaron”

“I wouldn’t dare it” she walked past him with a death stare and headed to the bathroom while he was enjoying seeing the effects of the previous performance on her. Hotch suppressed a laugh and followed her.

They entered together in the shower with the water running on their body. No sexual touch was shared just soft petting, tender kisses and so much love and admiration. He gently caressed the handprint he left on her ass while kissing her soft lips. Her hands were running throw his hairs pulling him closer.

“Hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“No. I liked it” she smiled and his lips was on her once again.

They finished showering and went back to the bedroom where they put some clothes on. He was only in boxers and she was wearing one of his t-shirt and her panties. They climbed under the cover, with Y/N on his right side, tangled to each other.

With her head on his chest, Y/N could feel his strong heartbeat. It had always calmed her on the bad days, whenever she felt down, he was ready to comfort her and hugged her tight on his chest. It became a habit to fall asleep listening to his heartbeat and he was happy that it worked.

Before going to sleep, Y/N needed to make sure he was okay. She knew he wouldn’t want to talk but she hoped that after the amazing sex he was more willing to do it.

“It was amazing” he broke the silence while playing with her hair.

“It really was” she looked up to him and smiled. Careful to his wound, she caressed gently his left cheek and looked for some sign of discomfort but didn’t notice any.

“It still hurts?” she worried. Hotch took her hand and gently kissed her palm before answering.

“Not much”

“Good. So…” she started carefully “Do you wanna talk about what happened tonight?”

“No” he answered back without thinking twice. She didn’t insist and let it go. Y/N knew he was scared and that he would have talked whenever was ready, but she also wanted to let him know that she was there for him, for the goods and the bads.

“I don’t wanna force you, just know that I’m here for you. Whatever you need.” He nodded and went back at staring at the ceiling while softly petting her side. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, neither of them could sleep. He was too overwhelmed by what had happened that night and she was too worried that if she closed her eyes something bad would happen to him, again.

“He made me see things.” he mumbled after sitting on the side of the bed, with his back to Y/N. He was resting the head between his hands trying to control his tears that were ready in his eyes. He soon felt Y/N’s arms hugging him from behind and smiled when she kissed the back of his head.

“It’s okay, babe. It’s over now” he took a deep breath and kept going as she moved sitting near him, turned to him.

“You guys were all death. You died because of me” her heart broke at seeing him so vulnerable and hurt. One of Y/N’s hand was running toward his hair, while the other was caressing his hand. She was looking at him with a worried sight.

“What happened in that house, Hotch?” she asked carefully.

“I was sitting on the floor in the office, hurt and drugged. You went in separately a-and…” he paused for a second, scared to reliving those moments “JJ and Reid were the first to die. He took them by surprise, they couldn't even defend themselves. Then he killed Rossi and Morgan”

He looked toward her and she saw all the pain in his eyes. He watched his team die in front of him but Y/N knew he wasn’t done. She wiped the tear that had fallen on his cheek and smile softly when he kissed her knuckles.

“What happened later?” his eyes were glassy one again. He took him a few seconds before answering that.

“He killed you” he looked down, between his feet, not being able to bear her look at the moment “You had found me. You were there in front of me w-when he shot you. He shot you twice and your blood was all over me. I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help any of you.”

Y/N hugged him tightly to her chest to make him feel her presence. He broke down and started crying in her arms pulling her even closer if possible. He needed to feel her, to make sure she was there in his arms and that it was real.

“It’s over. I’m right here, honey” Y/N tried to reassure him the best she could, caressing his back the way she knew he liked. Hotch calmed down after a few minutes and pulled out from the hug to looked at her.

“It was so real. Watching you and the team die. The thought of watch my team die always scared me and now I get to see what it would look like. I know it’s a risk of the job b-but…I can’t lose you Y/N. Or the team. Not the way I lost Haley.”

“He got into your head. It was what he wanted, taking control. But you don’t have to let him do it again. We arrested him, it’ over. Don’t give him more power. I’m so sorry you had to go through that and I’m sorry I’ve arrived too late but please never doubt yourself.” She stopped for a moment to kiss him hard on the lips and to wipe away another tear from his cheek.

“You’re an amazing team leader, you always have your team’s back. They count on you, they respect you but more that this, they trust you, Aaron. As a leader, of course, but also as a friend. I know how your feeling, I’ve been there too but I’m sure that when the time will come, you’ll do everything in your power to protect your team.”

Without hesitation, he leaned over to close the gap between them and kissed her lips holding her head in his strong hands. He deepened the kissed wanting to feel more of her. Laying her back on the bed, he was over her once again, but this time felt different. He just wanted to feel her close, nothing sexual, just a pure connection and innocent kisses and touches.

“Wanna go for it again?” Y/N joked.

“No. Just wanna cuddle” he answered honestly and she nodded. They climbed under the covers one more time spooning, and Hotch wrapped her in a tight hug around her waist holding her impossibly closer to him.

His mind was playing games with him and it would take a while to move on, but right there he was in peace. He had in his arms one of two of the most important person in his life. She was alive and safe and that was the only thing that mattered to him. He fell asleep minutes after her with a smile on his face.

*

The next morning, she woke up to his soft snoring and turned toward him after checking the time. The light of the sun coming through the window was still weak so they could stay in bed for a few more hour but no mattered how much she tried she couldn’t stay in bed anymore. Carful not to wake him, she headed quickly to the bathroom and then straight to the kitchen. Y/N was planning to make Hotch some homemade blueberries pancakes that she knew he would’ve loved.

She found everything she needed and prepared on the kitchen counter. There was always food at Hotch’s, unlike at hers. She was barely at home, not just because she practically lived with the Hotcners but mostly because she was always at work if she weren’t with them.

She always put her job first, that was how she grow up. Y/N traveled at lot since she was a kid due to her parent’s job and then when she joined the Navy she just kept traveling around the world. She never had a place to call home, just empty houses. Never stayed in the same city for more than a few years and she was okay with it. She was more that happier to keep living liked that and then she met Hotch.

For the first time in a long time, she stopped traveling and had a place that felt like home. It wasn’t easy at first, she wasn’t used to it but for Hotch was worth a try. She was enjoying her new life; she still had her job but it didn’t require to travel that much anymore.

While thinking about her life, she finished preparing the pancakes and an hour or so had passed. She headed back in the bedroom and stopped in her track looking at Hotch. He looked peaceful and vulnerable and the sheet, that only covered him to his waist, left his scarred torso exposed.

She knew what had happened with Foyet but that hadn’t never changed her feelings for him and she make sure to remind him how much she loved him and how sexy and handsome he was. He hardly believed he was sexy or handsome but secretly loved when Y/N tell him.

She climbed back in the bed, carefully to not wake him and stayed in silence for a few minutes just enjoying the view. She started placing a few soft kisses down his neck getting a low groan from him, she moved on the shoulder before straddling him. He opened his eyes slowly, even though his body was betraying him and full awake.

She leaned down to kiss his lips, attentively placing one hand on his wounded cheekbone. His hands through her hair were pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. She felt his body react under her and smiled at the sensation.

“Good morning, Agent Hotchner”

“Good morning, Lieutenant Y/L/N”

“I made pancakes” she informed him.

“It can wait” he said smirking and without giving her time to reply, he rolled them over ending on top of her. She gasped at the sudden move but wasn’t complaining. His hands were wandering under her t-shirt, touching her tits and making her moaned. Immediately he took it off and threw it away somewhere across the room.

He bent to kiss her neck and went down on her chest taking a nipple in his mouth and massaging the other. She arched her back and groaned at the feeling. He was good with his hands. He continued his way down her body, leaving wet kisses here and there on her torso. Once he got at her entrance, he moved her panties to the side and slipped a single finger into her wetness.

“You’re so wet, baby” she groaned begging him to do something, anything. He started moving slowly back and forth doing small circles but stopping right before the release. He wanted to savor the moment and had planned to do it by edging her.

“Aaron please?” she lamented pulling on his hair.

“Not yet”

He moved his finger up on her clit and began circling it, fastening the pace to his own liking, doing smaller and smaller circles but stopping as soon as she got too close to the edge. He began his assault with his tongue too making her moaned at the sudden contact. Sucking hard for a few minutes before sliding two fingers inside her making even more difficult for her not to come right away. Y/N was almost dripping as he was using his fingers to fuck her. When she begged for him, he stopped moving again.

“You bastard” she mumbled to herself. His erection was growing just by hearing her moaning. He needed to be inside her as much as she needed him. He went back overing her, she took his head and pulled him in for a kiss. Y/N could taste herself on his lips and moaned.

“I wanna make love with you, Y/N” he whispered against her lips. She smiled nodding, giving him the permission he needed before he slowly slid into her. Her body reacted like it was the first time, like he hadn’t fucked her senseless the night before. They groaned in unison.

He started going slow and deep, making her moaned loudly for hitting all the right spots. Y/N wrapped her legs around his waist to give him a better angle to go deeper.

“Oh God, baby” he groaned in her ear, feeling her get tighter around him. He started moving faster pounding her deeper, sending her over the edge.

“Oh fuck!” He didn’t stop, riding her orgasm to give her one more. She was holding on his shoulders scratching them with the nails, as pleasure was overwhelming her body. He was groaning into her neck trying to gain some control.

“I-I’m close…” she came again within seconds and with a few more thrusts he came deep inside her, groaning loudly.

“Oh yes, baby” he rolled off her and laid on the bed, both trying to catch their breath. He pulled her on his chest and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. They staid in bed for a little while, planning what to do in the next few days, deciding what to tell Jack about his father wound and forgetting soon about the pancakes. The silence of the room was broken by Hotch’s stomach rumbling and they both laughed.

“There was a mention of pancakes, was it?”

“Oh yeah! They’re waiting for you. And so are the blueberries” he smiled widely at the mention of his favorite fruit. They headed together to the kitchen after putting some clothes on. While Hotch was sitting at counter, Y/N was assembling their plates. Three pancakes each, with a few more blueberries on top and maple syrup.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hotchner.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to fuck me right here, right now.” he laughed at the comment as she put the plate in front of him and sat in chair next to his.

“I was just thinking how much I like this, having you around.” she blushed and smiled.

“I like this too. I like even more making you and Jack blueberries pancakes in the morning and spending the days with you. I never thought I would’ve love this life style but now I can’t live without it.” He smiled and took her hand in his to kiss it tenderly.

“I love you, Y/N”  

“I love you too, Aaron”

They shared another intense kiss when Hotch’s stomach rumbling interrupted.

“Now let’s eat because I’m starving.”

Once they finished, Hotch washed the plates while Y/N was sitting at the counter enjoying the view of his perfect ass and the way his t-shirt was perfectly hugging his back and biceps. She was daydreaming and didn’t notice that Hotch was done.   

“Now who’s the one with the “I wanna fuck you” look?” he moved back near her while mocking her and sat on the chair.

“Wait here” she disappeared in the bedroom and came back with a few stuffs he couldn’t identify and put them on the counter. “We need to clean your wound.”

Right. He had forgotten about it, but he didn’t have the time to protest that she was already standing between his legs with disinfectant and gauzes in hand. She was quick and careful before putting a small band-aid on it. She kissed him on his forehead before starting to massage his temple, because she knew he needed but was too stubborn to ask.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome. Just ask me whenever you need it”

“I-I meant…Thank you for being my rock, for respecting my boundaries and not forcing me to talk about last night. I could’ve done it without you. But I need to tell you something.”

“What?” she asked a bit worried.

“I didn’t have sex with you last night because I wanted to have sex but because I wanted to have control over something. I needed to have control over something. Peter Lewis made me felt so powerless and weak, he got into my head and used my biggest fear against me, and I was stuck, I couldn’t do anything to stop him. You were there and sex was the only thing I though could’ve give me back some sort of control.”

He stopped and searched for some kind of reaction from Y/N but found none.

“I’m so sorry. I should have talked to you instead.”

Silence filled the room; she was still standing between him. Hotch was expecting the worst, she had every right to get mad and could’ve blamed her. For sure, he wasn’t expecting what happened next.

“Did it work?” the question took him off guard and gave her a questioning look. “The sex. Did it give you some control back?”

“Yes. For a little while at least”

“Then you don’t have anything to apologize for. If sex was what you needed, I’m happy I was there.”

“But..” he started but she interrupted

“No buts. You didn’t force me to do anything if this is what you’re worrying about. I was completely fine with it; it was what you needed. And I knew that if I ever felt uncomfortable you would’ve stopped right away, without even asking you. Am I right?”

“Of course. I would never hurt you intentionally.”

“Good” Y/N leaned quickly peck his lips and caressed his cheek “You’re a good man, Aaron Hotchner. Never doubt it.”

“Thank you”

“But if you ever forget it, I’ll be happy to remind it to you. In every way I see fit”

He laughed and pulled her closer to him to share a passionate kiss, there in the kitchen. Oh, how much he loved that woman, never in a million years he thought he would’ve been so lucky. He had this beautiful woman in his arms that loved him as much as he loved her, and this scared him to death because he didn’t want to ruing things.

For a moment his mind went to Jack and thought of how much they’ve liked each other from the very first moment. Hotch loved watching the two of them interacting, and loved having her around. Sometimes it still felt like a dream, but it was very real. Y/N was there, and she was his. Well not yet, but one day he would marry that woman.

[harrysbelovedd]

carnival date [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - you get sick of rafe playing hard to get, so you decide to hit him where it hurts.

warnings - swearing, angst/fluff

Lights shone brightly below us, a large teddy bear sitting between us. As the ferris wheel begins to approach the boardwalk ground, I look over at JJ. I smile lovingly–hoping my acting is believable. 

“Is he looking?” I whisper through clenched teeth. 

JJ’s eyes peer down, spotting a furious Rafe standing on the ground, smoke practically fuming out of his ears. His strong arms cross over his broad chest, veins in his hands protruding out of anger as he clenches his fists.

“Oh he’s looking, and I think–correct me if I’m wrong–he is going to kill me and throw my body off the pier once we got off this fuckin’ thing.” He widens his eyes, nodding his head toward the man I’m really here for.

“Possibly,” I shrug, “Don’t worry I’ll put in a good word, you should lock your doors though.” I warn, playfully. Except just to be safe, JJ probably should triple check his locks tonight. Rafe’s jealousy is unexplainable. But that’s what he gets for thinking he can play hard to get with me.

Rafe and I have been playing this game for months, he shows his interest in me on a drunken night, then the next morning acts like I don’t exist. He knows that I know how he feels, and I’m sure he knows how I feel. Today, I grew sick and tired of him acting like a child. So, I decided to use the one sure-fire way I could get him to fess up.

Jealousy.

I don’t hang out with the pogues much, but JJ Maybank happened to owe me a favor. A couple weeks ago he snuck into Midsummers trying to find some free booze. So, when security caught him, I covered for him and told him he owed me. So, here we are. Pretending to be on a date to make Rafe jealous.

Soon enough, the ferris wheel came to a stop. JJ stood up, grabbing my hand and the teddy bear as we hopped off the ride. Rafe now stands with Topper and Kelce, pretending to be part of their conversation. But really, his eyes are purely on JJ and I. 

“Kiss me, JJ.”

His eyes widen, “Woah I-”

“Please, it’ll set him off and he’ll come over here, trust me.” I beg.

He rolls his eyes, “Alright but we’re even after this.”

He leans in, his calloused palm holding my cheek, pulling me closer. My eyes flick down to his lips and before we even have the chance to actually kiss–

“Yo, Maybank!” 

My lips curl into a smirk at his voice. Just like clockwork.

We both turn to see the brooding man walking toward us. His gaze is lethal, every other person on the boardwalk making way for Rafe Cameron. His jaw clenches, his fists balling by his sides. 

When he reaches us, he chuckles menacingly, “This is cute. I don’t give you attention so you go for the fuckin’ pogue?”

I scoff, “No, JJ just has the emotional maturity of an adult who’s able to actually understand his feelings and act on them.”

I hear JJ chuckle next to me, probably never expecting to hear the words “emotional maturity” and “JJ” in the same sentence. 

“He’s gonna treat you like shit, y’know that right? He’ll use you for what he needs then he’ll toss you aside,” He argues, turning toward JJ. “And when that happens you better watch your fuckin’ back JJ. You hurt her, I’ll kill you.” He seethes. 

I push JJ back, hopefully sending him the signal to leave before Rafe does something stupid. “And you’d do any better?” I scoff, “I see the girls you bring to Tannyhill and never fucking speak to again. I stopped wasting my time the second I realized you’d do the same to me.”

His anger stops at my words, he steps closer to me. “Do you really believe that? They weren’t you! I’ve been so terrified of hurting you I’ve been trying to protect you from myself. They were nothing.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?” I whisper, my fingers tugging at the hem of my top.

“Because–” He hesitates, “I’m stupid. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And I’m just stupid.”

“You are stupid,” I chuckle. 

He smiles, his head dipping down to meet my line of sight. His fingers push my hair behind my ear, “So can I kiss you now? Your date ditched.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t a real date,” I smirk.

“Oh you’re just as jealous and fucked up as me, huh baby?”

I grin as he pulls my face toward him in his palm, smashing his lips against mine.

[martyfive]

i lay in bed sick for two weeks straight. first there’s body temperature i never knew was possible for a human to have, then there are coughs that feel like they may be the last ones i could ever have in my life, then there’s weakness, then my five year old phone falls down from the bed ending up completely broken, then the bed sheets become something i couldn’t bear to see anymore. then i get up, go outside and unexpectedly find myself at the offer of a somewhat steady part job at this small italian restaurant we’ve been visiting every sunday sharp for the last year and a half except for these two weeks i spent lying sick in bed. we are leaving the bar for the night when R. asks me if i’d like to help her at the bar a couple hours a week.

“i have no experience or anything,” i say, feeling extremely daft. “i’m not even sure i can talk to people properly. i never really could.”

“it’s okay,” she says. “you’ll be polishing the glasses. it’s not hard. i’ll teach you everything.”

on our way home A. says, “it could be good for you, you know. being among people and trying something new,” and i feel like he’s right.

at this point this small restaurant already feels like another home i want to belong to. going there every sunday for so long totally helped with that. they have one of my works i gave them as a present for christmas on the wall. it hangs up above the table me and A. occupied the first time we ever came to eat there. the frame contains pages from a sketchbook i used to draw in while visiting italy five years ago. it feels too personal, but also somehow on it’s place. i hate to hoard the stuff i create. i want to be bolder.

regretting my life choices, i spend all what’s left from my last year’s salary on a new phone. it’s a first phone i bought without anyone’s help. it costs more than i deserve.

i can’t find any will to start drawing again after being sick for two weeks.

a couple days later i go to the restaurant to ask R. about the time i can get to work. she says, “this thursday, 6:30 pm,” and then adds, tugging on my star wars hoodie, “and put on a black shirt, if you have one”.

so i find one that looks like A. has been wearing it during his teenage years when he looked more like a stick than a human and i go for the job that for the first time in my life has nothing to do with any kind of art except the art of making cocktails i still keep messing up. a couple hours a week somehow soon turns into ten as normally as “polishing glasses” turns into “doing everything there is possible to do as quickly as possible”.

“would you like to do thirty hours a week?” R. asks one day looking hopeful as if i hadn’t broken ten of their glasses in the first five days of work.

“my back is gonna die sooner than you expect it to if i agree to that,” i answer. and it really is the only reason i don’t say yes.

i soon notice there is no time to think of anything else except the work to be done while i am behind the bar once again forgetting the difference between prosecco and chardonnay or picking the ice from the ice machine or freezing in the giant fridge while looking for the specific crate of beer everyone in this town drinks more often than water. the countless amount of crates are brought from and to the back room. the ten glasses are crushed, four of them in my own hands just from squeezing too hard on them. i cringe about every single one of them before falling asleep after coming home around midnight with my aching back and more money than i ever earned drawing pictures. i think about that one time my friend told me that once you start working in catering, there’s no way back. i haven’t talked to her in a while and i can’t ask her if she still thinks it’s true.

i still can’t draw. i guess it will pass. i still cough although i’m trying not to be loud when i’m behind the bar.

“you smoke?” R. asks. “i do. i just don’t have time.”

“i’ve been smoking since i was sixteen. but not anymore really,” i say to that. “when my mother calls me, then i smoke. but that doesn’t happen very often.”

M. laughs at that as if he understands what i’m talking about and says, “with this job, i either smoke a cigarette or kill somebody,” and i laugh with him.

M. is the chef and the restaurant is named after him. he cooks so good there is surely nothing better i’ve ever eaten in my entire life. i hear all about it from guests while picking the dishes from the tables, smiling and pretending my hands are not shaking. he and R. speak to each other in loud italian and i like how they sound even if i only understand a couple words from their dialogues.

“what’s allora?” i ask one time.

R. looks at me like i’m the only one who ever asked her a silly question like that, “huh,” she says, “i don’t know. it’s like here we go or something like that,” and she smiles.

i like talking to her. for some reason i like asking her questions and seeing the surprise on her face. she’s five years older than me but i feel like a child around her. she also has her birthday in november.

“all my family are scorpions,” she says after revealing the fact that there’s ten days between our birthdays. she names at least ten of the members of her family and all their november birthday dates in a row.

i say, “the parties must be hilarious when you all gather together.”

more often i feel like she’s my serious boss i keep disappointing with my every move but at the end of the shifts she turns into what feels more like a friend. i secretly hope i can be her friend one day even though it seems like she knows the name of every human being in this town and even some other nearby towns and doesn’t really need any more friends than she already has. but after all, i’m a part of this town now, too.

“what is your favourite thing to do here here at the bar?” i ask the other day.

she looks puzzled for a second, “maybe serving fish,” she says and this time it’s my turn to feel surprised. i saw how it’s done, and i don’t really know what she means.

“i thought it’s talking to people or something,” i say.

“nah,” she waves her hand, “it’s just my job, you know.”

i regret entering this territory but i still ask, “would you better like to do something else? some other job?”

“nah,” she says again, smiling, “i like it.”

and i like it too. horrifyingly, i like it too much. thinking about sitting at home and drawing stuff like i used to do all my life feels like a torture. it surely is one when i pick up my tablet and pencil and stare at the white canvas not knowing who i am anymore. there is nothing in my head i want to say. there is nothing my hands can do. i have no idea why. i want to go back behind the bar and ask R. what her favourite colour is.

“i’m proud of you,” A. says one night while we’re going back home from the restaurant where he got his two beers and one glass of whiskey i poured for him myself. he spent two hours sitting at the bar not far from these three teenage boys who have been drinking an enormous amount of beer and playing cards and then trying to guess where i come from according to my accent. “i’m proud that you’re doing good and you found something that you like so much.”

i buy two black shirts and jeans. i take my old black coat out of the wardrobe. i walk for two minutes from home to the bar and back looking fancier than ever. i feel happier than ever. i don’t look at my social media. i feel like this rotten sadness and loneliness that occupied my head for so long has nothing to do with my life now. i wonder if it’s just a phase. i consider finding a new therapist just to ask them if it’s okay to feel this good or i should be medicated before it’s too late. i want to go to bed at proper hour, wake up earlier, spend the day feeling good and then go to the bar and ask R. stupid questions and be stressed about the things i can control. i look at my workplace at home, at the white canvas that reflects nothingness in my head, at everything i have ever known, and i don’t know what to do.

i go back to work.

“you like it here?” M. asks almost every time. “is everything okay?”

“everything’s okay,” i say, smiling. and i mean it.

someone’s ordering an espresso at 11 pm. R. says, “tell them the coffee machine is already off,” turning it off while saying it. i laugh. i feel happy. i go home knowing there’s gonna be more work to be done tomorrow. i miss drawing stuff. i have nothing to say. i fall asleep thinking of the ten glasses i broke. in the morning, i can’t draw. i used to draw most of my stuff at the evenings and during the nights. now they are full of beer glasses and beer crates and adhd people who want an espresso before bed.

i ask myself if that really is how growing up feels like. i ask myself what i am going to do if i will not be able to draw a single piece of art ever again. i read the email of the person who wants me to draw an artwork for them. i wonder if they should know i’m an imposter who can’t draw anymore. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i go to work.

there’s a wedding at the restaurant. i once again bring what feels like an endless amount of bottle crates from the back room to the bar. i smile. i talk to people. i wipe the tables. i polish the glasses. i pour beer into them.

“my back hurts,” R. says.

“willkommen to the club,” i tell her, although for some reason my back doesn’t really hurt.

someone orders a beer and then changes their mind after the bottle was already opened.

“it’s yours if you want it,” R. says. “your shift is over anyway.”

and i stay. i sit at the bar as if i don’t really work there. i drink my beer, i talk to R. while she puts the new napkins on tables, makes sure everyone from the wedding paid what they had to and lets me ask her my questions. i pay for another beer, taking money from my fresh salary. R. rolls her eyes at that but allows me to pay anyway. she’s not a boss anymore. just… a friend. i tell her i don’t wanna go home.

“i can see that,” she laughs. “do you have friends here in town?” she asks.

i look at the bottom of my glass.

“no,” i say. there’s a lady on our street i sometimes walk our dogs together with. she’s as old as my mother. i always forget the names of her three kids although they’re all around my age. i wonder if i should mention her. “i have friends in other places. you know. not here.”

“i can be your friend here,” she says, smiling.

i feel like it’s the happiest day of my life. i’m also a little drunk on schwarzbier. even if my back would hurt i wouldn’t have noticed.

“if you need someone as me as a friend,” i say, “then. yeah. sure. uh. why not.”

we talk some more. the beer tests my language skills. i tell her i want a new tattoo. she says she got the first one when she was sixteen and it was a horrible butterfly.

“what is your favourite colour?” i finally ask.

she looks really baffled at that, then pulls out her phone. “i guess it’s red,” she says, showing me some of photos from her instagram where she’s younger than me now and is dressed up in red. “see, it looks good on me,” and she’s right. “but white is also good. and pink. and maybe purple. not black though. with my black hair, it doesn’t look good at all.”

we’re both dressed in black for work.

i come to the conclusion that colours are the least important thing in the world to her. that’s okay. i think about all the years i spent trying to make colours work. i wanna say something, but end up saying nothing.

she turns the lights off and locks the restaurant up. we spend a couple minutes walking in the same direction to our houses. i tell her about the name my friends from other places are calling me. i don’t tell her why it’s different from the one she saw on my id card. i’m not that drunk. she says she’s gonna use it from now on. she kisses my cheek before we part. i was at school the last time someone did that.

i go home. i sit at my workplace. i answer to the email of the person that wants me to draw an artwork for them from a new phone i spent enormous amount of money on. for a second i wonder if i should still tell them i’m an imposter and my career will be over by the morning when i wake up sober.

i think about the ten glasses i broke, then let myself forget about them. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i draw.

29/02/2024

[honkytonk-hangman]

In Sickness...

Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader

Summary: Jake feels his pulse jump and his stomach fly when he talks to or about you. Obviously, this must mean he's gravely ill.

Notes: mentions of a cheating boyfriend, jake convinced he's sick when really he is in loooveeee

Masterlist

“Hey, Hangman, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Jake, despite his usual goal of doing everything in his power to get on Phoenix’s nerves, finds himself ignoring the need to be quite annoying. His antics aside, he knew his fellow aviator well enough by now to recognise when she was up for his shit, and when she absolutely wasn’t.

That doesn’t mean he’s not going to be a little bit of a douchebag, though.

“Give me a second, Trace, I’ll need to start my timer.” he makes a show of observing his watch and starting a countdown from sixty seconds. Phoenix ignores him, and in place of possibly giving him a dead arm, she instead comes to a stop in front of him, her arms crossing over her chest in a way that was just a Natasha Thing, and not actually a sign of closed body language-thing

“You’re going to be at Mav and Penny’s later, right?” she asks, even though he knows he’s never given the impression of having any other plans, and she knows it. Jake simply nods, still pretending to count down.

“Right. Well… maybe take it easy on Cricket tonight, okay?” Phoenix asks him, her voice soft and quiet in a manner that makes Jake mess up his countdown, and subsequently drop his wrist and the bit entirely.

“I’m under the impression that I always take it easy on my favourite member of the orthopteran insect family,” he poses, and it's not untrue. He didn’t snipe with Cricket like he did with the others, mostly because she never sniped back, so trying to maintain a faux adversarial relationship would just be boring. No, Cricket was far sweeter and more wholesome than literally anyone he’d ever met, like Elle Woods had a lovechild with Barbie, and instead of banter, he’d found it irresistible and perpetually rewarding to tease her about her Certified Disney Princess status.

(Jake will never let her forget the time a small child at the beach approached her to ask if she was a mermaid, and that wasn’t even the only instance he’d witnessed something like that happening.)

 Phoenix shifts uncomfortably in front of him and purses her lips.

“Look, just… give her a break tonight,” she pushes. Jake frowns even deeper, his own mood becoming solemn now.

“What's wrong? Is she alright?” the questions leave his mouth before he can really consider perhaps only asking one, to keep some semblance of cool. Phoenix dances from foot to foot again and nods, but then quickly makes the universal noise, gesture and expression of ‘well, no, actually’.

“She, uh, broke up with her boyfriend a few days ago.” Nat reveals, and oddly, it's the last thing Jake was expecting to hear, and the last thing he’d expect her to divulge to him.

“Oh.” he says, a little unsure of what else to say. Blinking rapidly, Phoenix starts nodding again, this time in a sort of commiserating manner, as if they often gossiped.

“Yeah, she came home to find the prick was fucking one of his colleagues…” She all but spits the words. Her hands form fists where they’re still tucking into her folded arms.

“She's actually really torn up about it, but you know Cricket. She’s not very good at not being positive, you know? So she’s just bottling it up, and I figured, maybe your usual game with her might not be so lighthearted right now. You know she would never tell you if you actually hurt her feelings, so…” Phoenix manages to catch herself before she descends into a full on ramble.

In all the years he’d known her, Jake had only ever witnessed Phoenix fully ramble once, several years ago back in Lemoore, when she and Halo had downed eight shots in ten minutes, and she then proceeded to give him a thirty minute TEDTalk about how cockroaches were basically just incredibly simple AI machines, interrupted every so often when she dozed off against his shoulder, only to pick right back up like nothing had happened.

Pushing the memory aside, Jake takes in her words slowly before at last he releases a deep breath.

He actually finds himself a little taken aback by the sheer depth of anger that lances through him at the thought of Cricket being treated like that. Nobody deserves to be cheated on, but Cricket was simply someone that Jake doesn’t believe anything bad should ever happen to. Around the same time he comes to this conclusion, Jake also becomes aware that as his anger simmers down, he’s struck with the need to seek out his squadmate, and comfort her, something which, if Jake is honest with himself, is not something he has much experience with. He was much more likely to offer space to someone in need, so this sudden urge causes his brow to furrow.

Jake chooses to compartmentalise this oddness for now, but makes a mental note for later to figure out when exactly he’d developed such a strong fondness for Cricket, and more importantly, how exactly that had happened without him knowing.

For now, Jake just gives Pheonix a level nod, and what he hopes is an expression she takes to mean he understands. He then tries to get a hold of his rogue fondness and leashes it with what he thinks is a brotherly, friendly reaction, a more normal reaction for him to have towards his squadmate.

“Does she want him punched or something?” he asks, feeling as though anything more would reveal too much of his scattered, fond thoughts. Jake purses his lips when he realises that ‘fondness’ was quickly becoming an understatement he’ll have to address at some point.

Phoenix's lips curve into a genuine smile, and she chortles softly, shaking her head.

“Well, you’ll have to get in line if she does. I’ve got first dibs.” she states, cracking her knuckles and then her neck, making Jake snort, and shrug, glad to know that perhaps he wasn't the only one suddenly feeling protective.

“I’m sure we could come up with a wrestlemania-worthy finishing move, a la The Hardy Boys to sort him out.” Jake chortles, imagining he and Nat in matching championship belts, and ignoring her raised eyebrow. He knows from that one movement alone that she is filing this information about him away to whip out like a trap card, but compared to the other information she might have gleaned from his reaction to the situation, he doesn’t care so much.

(Besides, Jake felt no shame about his love for Attitude-Era WWE, and if he ever gets the chance to repay her for the thirty minutes of cockroach facts he could have lived his whole life without needing to know, well, now he knew exactly what his topic of choice would be.)

Four hours later, Jake, for some reason, cannot stop thinking about his conversation with Phoenix. He tried chalking it up to the fact that it was an unusual request she’d made of him, but he knows that is bull. Jake is far too invested all of a sudden in your personal life, in your feelings, in a way that honestly, he never has been before. Or at least, has never realised before, because the more Jake lingers on the idea that you were cheated on, he has to confront the fact that these feelings might just have been there all along, and that actually, your happiness and wellbeing are extremely important to him.

He keeps his distance when you arrive with Halo at Penny and Mav’s, but he eyes you hawkishly anyway, uncaring if he’s obvious about it or not. He wants to believe that if he hadn’t known, he’d have spotted your much more reserved demeanour immediately, but honestly, he's not really sure of anything now when it comes to you. Jake isn’t sure if Phoenix spoke to the others, if he was just the last to know, but there is an air of tenderness in the way the others greet you, which wasn't entirely unusual in itself, yet the softness is palpable even from where he sits on the other side of the yard.

He watches you put on a good show, smiling sweetly at Penny as she rushes over to say hello, but the moment you dont think others are paying attention, your features fall and Jake decides that it is basically unacceptable for you to look that sad ever again.

When you disappear through the backdoor, to put the share platter you’ve bought into the fridge he assumes, Jake doesn’t even excuse himself from the conversation he’s supposedly in before he’s beelining for the house. Behind him, he can vaguely hear Javy and Payback protest, but he doesn’t pay them any mind.

Jake steps through the sliding back doors quietly, closing the door behind him and shutting out the rest of the barbeque, if only for a few minutes. He moves softly through the small back room and towards the kitchen, once more surprised to find out just how pleased he is when you turn to look at him right away. That was new… or was it? Jake thinks perhaps he should stop trying to figure things out.

“Hey! Jake!” you greet cheerfully, and he’s comforted a little that your smile reaches your eyes.

“I didn’t catch you this afternoon, so I didn't get to find out your fruit platter preference, but Javy told me anything but pineapple–” you launch right away into friendly conversation, and oddly, this small normality brings him comfort too, after his afternoon of quiet worry. Jake nods at your words as you continue explaining your fruit platter, and if he hadn't other things on his mind, he would have voiced his amusement at the fact you’d somehow managed to cut or arrange all the fruits into the shape of jets.

Anger bubbles in him once again, at the idea that anybody would do anything to cause you to be upset. You, who cuts fruit into themed shapes, and who makes sure to ask every member of the team their food preferences, and who, he’s almost certain, has made the yoghurt dip you're currently unwrapping completely from scratch just for this casual get together.

How could any sane person know you, know how sweet and caring and fundamentally, altogether good you are, and still choose to do something that would hurt you?

More importantly, how could a man be with you and want anyone else?

Jake takes a step forward and fixes you with what he hopes is not an expression that reflects his inner anger, but gives off something more like softness. He’s not sure he’s ever really had a serious conversation with you before, especially not one that wasn't about work, so he’s surprised how natural it feels to show you something more genuine than his usual playful amusement.

“Are you alright?” he hears himself ask you, almost regretting it when your expression drops immediately, and you look away from him, back to your fruit platter which you now seem to be pointless rearranging just so you don't have to look at him. You attempt to wave him off after a few moments, plastering a smile on and scrunching your nose as you continue to not look at him.

“I’m okay. Really. Things weren’t right for a while, so it’s sort of a relief, really.”

Jake thinks that maybe in a few months time, those words might actually be believable, but Phoenix was right. You were such a naturally happy and uplifting person, it’s clear to Jake that you were struggling to let yourself be sad or angry about it all.

You seem to be expecting him to speak, because you glance back at him several times before you seem to really get a look at his face, at which point you stop messing with your platter and turn to face him properly.

“Thank you for asking, though, I… I really appreciate that,” you murmur, wringing your hands together, before realising what you’re doing and smoothing them out over your sundress instead. Jake feels his pulse speed up. Or maybe it slows, he’s not sure, he just knows that his heart beat becomes irregular, and before he knows what he's doing, he’s stepping even closer towards you.

“Cricket,” he begins, a frown beginning to crease his brow, which your eyes flicker to consciously, as if you were concerned about his feelings. “Just say the word, and his nose will be irreparably broken. For the rest of his life he’ll be telling people it's an old football injury. Maybe he’ll even need surgery to fix it enough that it’s even remotely normal again,” Jake watches your eyes widen and blink as he speaks, but he makes sure to keep any trace of humour from his voice, so you properly understand just how serious he’s being. “Hell, it doesn't even need to be his nose. I’ll break his collarbone, I've heard that's the most painful in the long run…”

When you let out a soft sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh, Jake almost thinks he needs to rephrase his offer, but your soft smile and the almost shy look you shoot at him before you drop your gaze for a moment assures him you understood that he wasn’t joking, even a little.

“Sometimes…” you purse your lips and frown, struggling to find the right words, but you begin wringing your hands slowly again and the movement seems to lend you some confidence. “Sometimes I really wish I could be more like Phoenix… or, more like anybody else, really–” Jake has to physically clamp his mouth shut to stop himself protesting that point and let you talk.

“Sometimes, I wish I was someone who would take you up on that offer. I… I feel like I should want to want that… but I don’t…” you trail off and sigh again, but this time, the exhale seems to take a weight off your chest, like simply admitting these feelings out loud was what you really needed.

You look back up at him properly, and smile again. Jake thinks his pulse has stopped altogether now, and begins to seriously consider reporting to medical first thing Monday morning.

“But, I promise that if I ever change my mind about the severe breaking of certain bones, I’ll know exactly who to talk to.” Your smile widens just slightly, a little mischievous almost, like even just joking about it was very cheeky of you. Jake on the other hand, just believes it to be the only correct course of action.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you begin talking again, dropping your fidgeting hands to hang more relaxed at your sides.

“A lot of my life I haven’t really been surrounded by people who’ve looked out for me, or folks who I can really trust… and I know we’re not really friends, more like work friends, but–” you suddenly cut yourself off and shake your head with a little chortle.

“It doesn’t matter, ignore me–”

“–We’re friends.” Jake can’t stop himself from protesting this time. You blink at him like this is surprising to you. “We are friends, Cricket… I know I–” Jake cuts himself off like you had just done and grinds his teeth a little. This was not a conversation he went around having very often, if ever, at all. “You know I wouldn’t poke fun at you if I didn’t care. I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think we were friends,” he says, hoping his words didn’t give away exactly how much he cared. You seem to search his face, but you’re nodding, as if he was the one who needed assuring in this situation.

Jake starts to wonder then if he was actually becoming seriously ill, and all of his reaction to this afternoon has just been one big fugue episode. That idea is genuinely more believable to him at this moment, that Jake is really, actually currently unconscious in the on base hospital, with a skyrocketing fever and some other terrible things, than all of this sudden personal change and inner realisation happening so naturally and smoothly and without him having a say in it.

But then you’re smiling at him again, bright and genuine and all thoughts of climbing fevers and sudden illness evaporate. As sad as it sounds, Jake would never dream of you smiling at him like that, the sight so affecting and sweet that he could never come up with on his own. However, he does conclude he’ll probably be seeing it a lot in his dreams from now on. He thinks this should cause panic in him, he should not be planning to dream about one of his squad mates smiling at him, but unsurprisingly to him now, panic is the furthest thing he feels about it.

“Well, I just know that I’m not always good at asserting myself, but I know that you guys… you guys will do it for me.” You give a little shrug. Jake feels a little shame then, that he’s worked with you for several months now and has not once picked up on the fact that you were completely aware of your own tendency to be a bit of a pushover.

It dawns on him that every time he teased you for being ‘too nice’, and every time you laughed or shook your head in amusement, the real joke was on him. It’s a joke that Jake doesn't find particularly funny right now. He’s not sure he ever will.

“Sorry, I’m being so dramatic and grim!” you say suddenly, and this time your mood change isn’t fake or put on. Jake shakes his head at you, and at last feels some of his regular programming begin to seep back in. He chooses to make a show of leaning back against the counter and carefully crosses his arms over his broad chest in a way that he knows looks incredibly sexy (Javy has assured him), a small smirk slowly spreading over his features.

“Cricket,” he drawls out slowly, somewhat relieved that he feels more himself again. You double take as you look back up at him from where you’ve started fiddling with your fruit platter again, your eyes blinking rapidly as you now quickly try to avoid his whole side of the room. Jake’s grin grows ever so slightly when he has your attention, even if you seem too nervous to look at him now.

Unlike most of the women Jake had worked with, you didn't seem to try to, or perhaps you simply were unable to, hide the effect Jake had on you, how he could so easily make you flustered. It's not something he’s totally unfamiliar with, after all, plenty of women around the Hard Deck were the exact same, but the fact that you aren't some civilian looking to get laid, and are in fact one of the best aviators he knows, makes it all the sweeter.

(Jake had once tried to reconcile the way you handled yourself in the air, with the way you were at all other times, but he could never quite do the maths on it, so it was better for his brain if he didn't think about it at all.)

Honestly, Jake knows his getting a reaction out of you is an act of self ego-stroking, but he loved making a spectacle of himself, just to watch how you would sputter and go all mushy, and if he’s even more honest, a big part of his enjoyment lay in the thought that perhaps, he was doing you a favour, giving you something to think about, boyfriend be damned. He supposes he doesn’t need to worry about that being a problem anymore.

Jake then pauses then, and wonders when exactly you having a boyfriend had become a ‘problem’, a threat to him specifically, because the more he thinks about the idea now (hypothetical as it is), the more his skin starts to itch under his shirt.

Perhaps he was getting sick after all.

“Yes, Jake?” you ask, still avoiding looking his way, and trying to use a tone of voice that was either exasperated or ignorant, but your slightly higher pitch gives you away.

“You didn’t say that I was your friend, too,” he faux complains, watches you shake your head a little, but fail completely at keeping the smile off of your face.

With your platter now deemed ready, you pick it up and turn toward him, holding it out for him to take. Jake, without thought, does so.

“You are my friend, too, Jake,” you tell him, far more sincerely this time, and Jake feels his pulse do that odd thing again. He swallows thickly, and nods, before you direct him out the back door.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jake can’t help but hover, never moving too far away from where you are, and when he doesn’t have an excuse to linger close to you, he always keeps one eye directed your way.

[holylulusworld]

Big grumpy bear (3)

Summary: He’s grumpy. You are sweet. A match made in heaven.

Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x OmegaReader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, grumpy alpha, scenting, fluff, mentions of injuries

Catch up here: Big grumpy bear (2)

Big grumpy bear masterlist

You’re out of your mind. 

With a bag slung over your shoulder, a backpack on your back, and a basket full of groceries, you walk toward Walter’s house.

You’re not mad at him per se. It’s just that he got hurt and didn’t call you to ask you to take care of him, as he should.

You had to hear it from one of his colleagues. Rachel. His former lover, as you got to know a few months ago.

You’re fuming as you stand in front of his door and need to take deep breaths to get her stupid smirk out of your mind.

“I gotta take care of my alpha,” you cheer yourself up.

Walter is still a big grumpy bear, and always tells you he doesn’t like all the attention you give him. A lie, of course. In secret he loves that you take care of him, you’re sure about it.

Knocking at his door, you take another deep breath. Walter can say what he wants, but you’ll take care of him. He’s not going to stay alone while injured. 

“What?” Walter opens the door; he huffs and stares down at you, a gruff expression on his face. The alpha didn’t expect you to come to his home. “I got a few days off.”

“I know,” you tut. “I had to hear from Rachel that you got injured.” You walk around him to enter his house. “Come back inside. It’s cold, and raining. I need to check on your injuries. And I’ll cook for you.”

“Y/N…wait,” he closes the door, and follows you back inside, hot on your heels. “I can take care of myself.” Walter watches you place the basket on the kitchen counter before you drop the backpack next to your bag. “What’s all of this?”

“I had to bring a few things here, didn't I,” you smile softly as you unpack the basket. “I need clothes and toiletries while I take care of you. Now, sit on the couch, and I’ll be right there to check on you. I know how to nurse someone back to life.”

“I’m not sick,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. You watch him wince as his ribs are undoubtedly broken. “You can go home. Thanks for the visit, though.”

“I didn’t ask, alpha,” you put your hands on your hips. “I want you to sit on the sofa and wait for me. I’ll take care of my alpha.”

“I’m not your alpha,” he tries again, but his heart beats a little faster when you grab your bag and follow him toward the living room. “Seriously, you don’t have to waste your time.”

“Walter, I’m not wasting my time here.” You place the bag next to him on the couch. “I need you to take off your sweater. Let me check on your injuries. I know you’ve got broken ribs and bruises.”

“How’d you find out?” He grunts. “Did you steal my medical file, or extort my doctor?”

“Don’t be silly,” you giggle, and pat his thigh. “I asked nicely, and they gave me the information because I was worried about my alpha.”

“I’m not…” he sighs deeply. Fighting with you is a lost cause. “Fine. If I let you check on my ribs, will you leave me alone?”

You give him a stern look. “I won’t leave you here all alone while you are hurt. I will take care of you. Now, let me help you get out of your sweater. You are in pain; I can see it.”

“I’m…” Walter gives in. You are already tugging at his sweater, and he simply lifts his arms to let you shove the sweater up his body. “Satisfied?” He asks when you drop the sweater to the ground.

“Oh no! You are black and blue,” you whine while running your fingertips through the soft curls on his chest. You’d enjoy touching the alpha, but he’s injured, and you don’t want to hurt him. “I got my first aid kit.”

“Y/N,” he wrinkles his forehead but allows you to carefully touch him. “The doctor checked on me. He gave me pain meds and told me what to do.”

“I don’t care. To make sure that you don’t strain yourself, I’ll stay here and take care of you. I will ice your ribs to help you with healing and pain relief.” You are unimpressed by his grumpy demeanor. “After I’m done with your ribs, I’ll start cooking. You will rest a bit and let me help you.”

“You won’t leave me alone, right?” Walter cocks a brow. He should know by now that you are determined to take care of him. He grumbles under his breath and watches you rummage in your bag. “Uh-what’s for dinner?”

You smile widely at his question. “I will make your favorite meal, alpha. After, we can watch a movie, or talk. Of course, you need to rest and take your pain meds. But I’ll take care of all of this. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

Walter grins as you help him put his foot onto the couch. He watches you hover over him, and he can’t deny, having you around is nice…very nice…

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 20

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Larissa Weems x fem!reader

words: ~ 3.2k | ao3 link in title

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Whatever Larissa had been expecting from that evening, this certainly wasn’t it. She’d have cooked for you, perhaps suggested watching a movie which would likely have been abandoned in favor of making love and staying up talking for hours until falling asleep in each other’s arms. She hadn’t expected you to storm out of her office in tears after accusing her (rightfully so) of lying to you. And she certainly hadn’t expected to raise her voice at you - she could still feel her words scratching at her throat, and it made her feel sick to her stomach.

She was frozen in place, standing alone in the middle of her office, her mind reeling. Yes, she’d lied to you - but she was protecting you. 

No. That wasn’t true. 

She was protecting herself. She was too busy guarding her own heart from potential rejection, rather than trusting you and the relationship she’d built with you. She knew this but, fuck, was it hard to shake the grip the past had on her, even now.

And you - you were probably halfway back to your car by this point. 

No. No, no, no. You couldn’t drive home alone, not when the hyde was out there, not when you’d already gotten so close to being attacked this afternoon - you certainly wouldn’t be so lucky twice. 

Larissa’s legs began to move before her mind even registered what she was doing. She didn’t know what she was going to say to you, from the sound of it you probably wouldn’t want to see her, but she had to stop you from leaving. She was out of her office and down the hall in record time, rushing towards the staircase with her pulse pounding in her ears and praying she wasn’t too late. 

Oof-

Reaching the landing of the staircase, her body collided with something solid - her arms shot out instinctively as she worried she’d just body slammed a student in her haste to find you. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she looked down to find that it was your eyes looking up at her - your big, beautiful, sad eyes. 

Her body moved on its own, relief flooding her senses as she wrapped her arms around you without a second thought, burying her nose in your hair and pulling you close. You didn’t hug her back, you simply stood there with your arms dangling limply by your sides, but that was enough for her at the moment - it was enough that you were safe, that you were here and not in your car, in the middle of the woods, turning into easy prey.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she whispered into your hair. “You have every right to be angry with me but, please, at least let me drive you home.”

“It’s fine, don’t bother,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by Larissa’s chest. She pulled back a bit to allow you to speak. “I’m still fucking pissed but that thing will kill us both. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Larissa bit her tongue - like hell she’d let you sleep on the couch, but that was a discussion for later. With a curt nod, she took a step back and gestured up the stairs, allowing you to lead the way back up to her office. 

She closed and locked the door behind you, leaning back against it and watching in defeat as you picked up your bag and made your way towards her quarters without sparing her another glance, hesitating at the door. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” Your voice was monotone, only a hint of anger seeping into your tone.

“Darling, it’s only 7 pm…” Larissa felt her stomach sink at the realization of just how upset, how disappointed you truly were. “Would you like to eat something first?”

“Not hungry.”

With that, you disappeared into her quarters.

Larissa returned to her desk, her stomach churning. You’d been upset with her before, but not this upset. Not slamming doors or sleeping on couches upset. But then again back then it had been about Larissa keeping secrets from you, and now she’d done it again - she really hadn’t changed, had she? She tried to give you space, opening her emails and working through them - though she didn’t get very far. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in her chair and resigned herself to her thoughts.

The more she thought about telling you the truth, the more foolish she felt. She’d been unfair to you - all you’d asked for was honesty and trust. You’d supported her time and time again, given her no indication you wouldn’t be able to handle the truth - yet she’d kept it from you anyway. 

She snapped her laptop shut, feeling as though her worry had aged her about 10 years in the past few hours as she made her way to her quarters, pausing at the door to listen intently for signs that you were awake before slipping inside and toeing her heels off in case you were already sleeping. 

“Hey.”

Larissa startled at the sound of your voice, pressing her hand to her chest in surprise. She turned to find you lying on the couch, curled up on your side under a fluffy, forest green blanket with your face shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner of the room. 

“Hello,” she whispered. “May I join you?”

After staring at her intently for a moment, you nodded. Larissa walked over to the couch and sat by your feet, clasping her hands together on her lap. 

“I’m sorry.” Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears as she stared down at her lap, wringing her hands. “It was wrong of me to lie to you. And to raise my voice at you… I should never have done that.”

The silence that met her words was deafening, and Larissa could feel her heart hammering wildly as she waited for you to say something, anything. 

“Then why did you do it?” You sounded defeated - it broke Larissa’s heart.

“I was - I am - afraid.”

“Of what?”

Larissa opened her mouth to speak, but the damn words didn’t want to come out - she was starting to feel ridiculous. Why couldn’t she just talk to you? 

“Of losing everything… Nevermore, you...” Her voice was barely above a whisper, as though she hoped you wouldn’t hear her. 

“So you thought lying to me would help?”

The accusing edge to your voice cut deep - Larissa couldn’t help but feel frustrated, and she couldn’t help the way this frustration seeped into her tone. “It’s an outcast behind the attacks.”

“So?”

“So,” Larissa sighed. “I don’t want you to think that all outcasts are… dangerous monsters.” Even as she said the words she felt a bit silly, but now they were out there and she couldn’t take them back.

You sat up, shrugging the blanket off your torso and pulling your knees up to your chest, hugging them close to your body and cocking your head as you stared at Larissa. She found herself averting her gaze, afraid of what she’d see in your expression if she dared look. 

“Why would I ever think that?”

“That’s certainly what everyone else in Jericho would think… Nevermore would be closed for good, no one in this town would ever look at outcasts the same way again.”

“Since when am I like everyone else in Jericho? What is this really about?”

Larissa risked a glance in your direction - your brows were scrunched up in confusion, your lips curled into a frown. She felt nauseous, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I don’t want you to think I’m dangerous.” 

Before she could register what was happening, your arms were wrapped around her torso from the side and your face was buried in her hair. Whatever reaction she was expecting, a bone-crushing hug was not it, and she could feel her face grow hot with shame. She turned away from you, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to stop it from quivering.

“Riss… please believe me when I say I could never think of you as dangerous. I know that the hyde isn’t representative of all outcasts, let alone of you.” You pulled back to cup her cheek, urging her to turn her head and look at you. After a moment’s resistance, Larissa gave in and met your gaze, immediately hit with a wave of emotion at the worry swimming in your eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say as her eyes danced between your own.

“I love you more,” you whispered back, capturing Larissa’s lips in a soft kiss. She whimpered against your lips, immediately feeling comforted by the simple, intimate gesture. 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” she mumbled, before hesitantly deepening the kiss. Your fingers found their way into Larissa’s updo, holding her in place as your tongue flicked against hers - the fact that you were so willing to kiss her back calmed her racing heart some, making her think everything would be okay.

When you pulled back, Larissa felt herself blush. “I feel a bit foolish,” she admitted quietly. 

“Good, you should,” you deadpanned. The shapeshifter’s blush deepened and she looked up in shock, relieved when she saw your lips quirk up at the corners. “Did you really think I’d be scared of you?”

“There’s more to it than that, darling.” Larissa sighed. “Normies have been wary of outcasts for years. Even the most accepting normies have their limits, and, when they’re afraid, people tend to lump all outcasts together. It wouldn’t be the first time. I thought the issue would be solved by now… I thought I could protect you, and everything would be alright.”

“It will be alright,” you countered. “But you keeping secrets hurts us both… I’m a big girl, Larissa, I’ll be fine. I really do love you, I just need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she said immediately. She meant it, she really did trust you with her entire being. “Can you still trust me?”

Larissa was afraid of your answer - it took all of her willpower not to avoid your gaze as she waited for you to speak, and she felt an overwhelming sense of relief at your reply.

“Yeah. I do trust you, Larissa.”

~~~

Larissa managed to convince you to eat ‘dinner’ with her - neither of you were particularly hungry so you sat side by side on the kitchen counter, eating cereal as you told her about your encounter with the hyde. Just hearing about how close you’d come to a certain death filled Larissa’s entire being with dread. 

“You know, it was weird,” you said with a mouthful of cereal. “When it ran away, it didn’t look like it was chasing something… more like it was running towards something but like… not in a predator-y way, you know?”

Larissa’s appetite was quickly fading and she set her half-full bowl aside. She placed her hand on your thigh, her thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of your trousers - though whether she was trying to soothe you with the action, or herself, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps both. “Did you see anything?”

“Sort of?” You furrowed your brows, chewing at your bottom lip as you seemed briefly lost in your memories. “There was someone there for sure. I… I don’t remember, it was raining so hard…”

In an instant Larissa slipped from the counter and stepped between your legs - whatever happened, it was over, and you were here and miraculously okay and, even more miraculously, you weren’t angry anymore. So Larissa just took your bowl from you and set it aside to wrap her arms around you, instantly feeling comforted when your legs wound around her waist.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” she whispered, resting her forehead against yours. “I can’t lose you.”

Larissa felt soft lips melt into her own, and she lifted you off the counter and held you close to her. “Would you do me the honor of joining me in bed tonight?” she mumbled against your lips.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “Your couch isn’t very comfortable.”

Laughing, Larissa’s lips found yours again, and she blindly carried you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, depositing you gently onto the bed and climbing on top of you. “I’ll be right back, I just have to get ready for bed,” she whispered against your lips, giving them a quick peck before pulling away and heading quickly to the bathroom to remove her makeup and get changed. 

Minutes later she slipped into bed beside you, turning onto her side - you were already facing her, and you reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Larissa took hold of your wrist before you could lower your hand and brought it to her lips, pressing them to the base of your palm. Her eyes fluttered shut as she used the moment to ground herself again, your soft skin against her lips calming her nerves better than anything else ever had.

Opening her eyes and letting go of your wrist, she reached out to stroke your cheek, grazing her fingers against your cheekbone and your jaw before trailing them down to your shoulder, playing with your hair - her gaze following her fingers as the gears in her mind turned. You were silent as you watched her, not moving a muscle, giving her time to put her fears into words.

“Darling…” Larissa began, twisting a strand of your hair between her fingers. “Do you remember when you asked me if our hypothetical child would be a shapeshifter?”

She glanced at your face just in time to see a blush rise to your cheeks - Larissa felt her heart leap into her throat. 

“Yeah… why?”

The shapeshifter hesitated for a moment, nibbling at her bottom lip with her teeth as her anxiety rose. “What would you think of that?”

“Hmm…” You tightened your grip around Larissa’s waist, looking dreamily up at her - it made her cheeks grow warm. “I would think both of you would have a very unfair advantage and I’d definitely be the boring mom.”

Your reaction surprised Larissa and she let out a chuckle in response. “No, I mean it,” she whispered, trying not to let her imagination get ahead of her.

You raised your eyebrow. “What am I supposed to think of that?” Larissa opened her mouth to respond, quickly closing it again when she didn’t know what to say - so you pressed on. “Rissa, is this about you being a shapeshifter? I don’t care what you are, I love you.”

“Even if I do terrible things?” she muttered bitterly, unable to meet your gaze. “Wednesday’s told you what I’ve done.”

She felt your hand take hold of her own, and her gaze dropped to your fingers as they wiggled their way between hers.

“I don’t think protecting your school and your students makes you a terrible person.” Your voice was low and gentle, and Larissa wanted so badly to believe your words. “The world isn’t always black and white. There are shades of gray.”

Larissa swallowed thickly, nodding absently and scooting closer in order to nuzzle her face into the crook of your neck. She didn’t care much whether or not most people thought she was a good person - she was used to facing prejudice and opposition from all sides, she wouldn’t have gotten into her position as principal if she wasn’t able to shrug it off. 

But when it came to you, she suddenly found herself caring a great deal about the things she was usually so unbothered by. She truly did care what you thought about her and her actions - she wanted you to understand her, not judge her as so many others had. Part of her knew you wouldn’t, though that part was quickly and often drowned out by the little voice inside her head, trying desperately to protect what was left of her inner child. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Your voice broke the silence, Larissa could feel it vibrate against her cheek as she burrowed into you. She pulled back with a sigh, resting her forehead against yours and cupping the back of your neck. 

“Shapeshifting is a rare ability - there’s not nearly enough education on the subject even at Nevermore, I’m afraid, and not many people know a shapeshifter personally. It leads to a lot of prejudice even within the outcast community. Many shapeshifters are accused of deception and manipulation throughout their entire lives. I… don’t want you to think that’s all I use my ability for. I don’t want to be that person, not to you.”

“I know you’re not,” you reassured her - though she was so in her own head that your words did little to assuage her worries, until you propped yourself up on your elbow and cupped her cheek, holding her gaze. “I told you that I trust you and I mean it. I hate that you’ve experienced prejudice because of who you are but I’m the last person who’d judge you for that. And our children being shapeshifters isn’t a worry that’s even crossed my mind,” you added with a smirk.

Our children - Larissa’s breathing stuttered audibly in her chest.

The first time you’d mentioned the possibility of having a child with her, Larissa figured the question was a natural follow-up to the fear of getting knocked up, pillow talk without any real meaning.

The second time the topic of children was brought up, Larissa had been too in her own head to probe you for your opinion on the subject, had felt too vulnerable to open a discussion. 

This time, you mentioned it so casually and assuredly that Larissa wasn’t sure what to make of it. She knew she wanted children, but what she’d told you was true - by this age, she’d resigned herself to the fact that her students were as much as she would get. Before you, she’d assumed any partner she might have would be around her age as well and uninterested in starting a family so late in life.

“Our children?” she whispered, her heartbeat in her throat as her eyes danced between your own. “Is… that something you’d want? With me?”

“Yeah… I mean, if that’s even something you’d want with me…” Your cheeks flushed and you bit your lip - the fact that Larissa didn’t think you had anything at all to be nervous about only made it cuter to her.

“I… think I would,” she murmured, a blush of her own adorning her cheeks as the gears in her mind turned. “Perhaps that is something we should discuss at some point then…”

The way your lips quirked up into a bright smile and your blush deepened did nothing to calm Larissa’s racing heart - quite the contrary. She swallowed thickly. “But today was a long day, maybe we should get some sleep…”

Your arms enveloped Larissa in a hug, allowing her a brief reprieve from the eye contact to calm her sudden butterflies. 

“Sleep sounds good,” you murmured with a smile, briefly breaking the hug to lean over and flick off the lamp on the nightstand, blanketing the room in darkness. You settled back against the pillows, pulling Larissa with you - she rested her head on your chest, your heartbeat steady and strong in her ear as her eyes fluttered shut. “Sleep well, Riss,” you whispered against the crown of her head, bringing a soft smile to her face.

“Sleep well, love,” she whispered back.

x

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