#feels so much more terrifying than previous works

[s-creations]

Stillness

The quite allows you time to think the loudest.

Fandom: Court of Roses (Webcomic) Rating: General Audiences Relationship: Merlow the Rose/Nocturne (Court of Roses) Additional Tags: Other Characters are mentioned, Sort of a self-reflection story, Nocturne is such an interesting character, I mean they all are, Just let me focus on one thing at a time please, Deep thoughts come in early morning or late nights, no kissing but this is still a cute connection.

Gift to @nintendonut1 @courtofrosescomic

Early mornings always seemed to be the most undisturbed period of time. Time where those who were awake at night started to fall quiet and sleep. And those who’ve spent the night sleeping were just barely starting to wake up. Even those creatures who didn’t know of the social norms of ‘hours’ knew to remain silent as if aware there needed to be moments of calm before the day officially started. 

Truthfully, this was a time Nocturne felt the most at ease. Not to claim that this was his favorite portion of the day. More of it being a moment where he could just…exist. 

In the past, he would wake to have points of feeling normal. Or, as close as he could. Fantasizing that he was reading for pleasure rather than researching for his new claim. At a far younger age, it was a warm home with both fathers patiently waiting for him to return. For later years it was just the concept of believing he could have some form of stability. Not having the fear of being forgotten hanging over his head. 

It was so strange to think about. As a child, Nocturne had been excited to see what the lands held to offer. Now the idea of simply being home seemed so enticing. To have a solid place to live.

What a concept…

Laying on his back, Nocturne’s eyes stared up at the blank ceiling of the carriage. Thankful that both Sven and Felicks were on morning watch so as to not have to deal with two beings snoring loudly. 

Diana and Phoebe having claimed the two drop down bunks built into the sides of their mobile structure. Sure, they were just flat pieces of wood. But the provided elevation made the rest better somehow. 

Which left Nocturne and Merlow to rest on the floor. Both contorting on the ground as they tried for comfort. 

Nocturne wasn’t brother by this at all. Honestly, Merlow was the only member of this trope the Infernal didn’t mind being so close to. 

Don’t read too far into that, now is not the time.

Pointed ears twitched hearing a whispered ‘discussion’ between Sven and Felicks outside.

Both no doubt debating over what was going to be made for that morning’s meal.

The Infernal shifted to lay on his side facing Merlow.

The half-elf was still fast asleep at this point in the morning. Laying on his side as well and curled up as best he could be in the available space. Cheek squished against one of his hands that was acting as an extension of his pillow. The other hand up and tucked underneath his chin. His hair was somehow still untangled even out of their customary three braids. A few strands occasionally flutter from Merlow’s steady breathing.

Even with vision blurred, Nocturne felt that he knew every line that made up the half-elf’s face. 

Merlow was…an enigma to the Infernal. For all his travels, Nocturne had never met someone so joyfully optimistic who also carried such sorrow with them. For all that life had thrown at Merlow’s feet, the half-elf remained with the idea that there was good in people. Doing his best to spread the joy and care he radiated out to everyone. It was amazing to think anyone could be sour while around the half-elf.

Which is why seeing Merlow so still as is was such an awe. 

Nocturne was used to seeing the other bouncing around, to help or comfort, wanting to play, waving his arms around eagerly while sharing a story. Even with his calmer situations, Merlow could be found fiddling with his hair, or the strap for his bag, or picking at his gloves. He seemed to be constantly moving. 

If left alone from his tormentful past, the only time Merlow seemed to be motionless was when he fell into a deep sleep. 

He looked peaceful.

Calm.

Relaxed.

There was no need to keep his smile on or to comfort. 

Merlow could sleep. 

Nocturne could watch.

And it could just be the two of them for a moment. A comfort in seeing Merlow so relaxed.

Perhaps the quiet was adding a bit of bravery he wouldn’t normally hold. Regardless, Nocturne shifted so he could pull an arm from under his own blanket. Cautiously reaching out until his fingertips just barely brushed against Merlow’s cheek. When the other didn’t stir, he pressed forward. Getting a slight thrill when he could properly cup the half-elf’s face. 

Even with the warning he’d received about the other, Nocturne felt that Merlow had been a wonderful surprise to his life. An unexpected change of course on the Infernal’s path. Being informed that the half-elf was just a person so study, to understand. Only to become so much more as time continued on. A change that Nocturne should have been worried about. He’d lived his life as a forgotten footnote in history for so long that the want of being remembered was a phantom pain. 

Now, it was a bitter candy that he seemed to swallow everyday.

He hadn’t felt this content in so long…

The spell was broken when Merlow let out a low groan. Eyes squeezing tightly as he began to wake. Nocturne was just able to pull his hand away fast enough to hide under his blanket once more. Just as green eyes of Spring opened and landed on the Infernal with muddled and exhausted confusion.

“Mornin’...” Merlow croaked out. Slowly blinking as he fought to stay awake.

“Good morning,” Nocturne whispered back, “did you have a nightmare? You’re up early.”

“Can be sayin’ the same ta ye… But no, slept well… How early is it?”

“We probably have a few hours before the sun begins to rise.”

Merlow let out a small hum. “Ye never answered my question…” 

“I just had a few things on my mind, don’t worry. I’m going to try and get some more sleep.”

There was another hum before Merlow replied with, “‘M cold…”

“Suppose it is a bit nippier than previous mornings.” Nocturne’s quiet laughter turned to a quick choke as Merlow shuffled forward. The half-elf doing his best to tuck as close to the Infernal as possible. 

Nocturne felt himself freeze before allowing his arms to slowly relax. Wrapping them around Merlow, who let out a contented sigh. 

“Comfortable?”

“Very…”

“Good…” Nocturne relaxed further to press his cheek to the top of Merlow’s head. “Good.”

It wasn’t long before Merlow was asleep once more. Nocturne left to the silence as before. Eyes closing, he focused on the comfortable weight now resting in his arms. 

He welcomed the stillness.

Because he could imagine this was his life.

And he loved the thought.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[memetic-trigger-hazard]

Trope blender strikes again!

Since the formation of the Justice League Dark to deal with supernatural threats, Diana had been acting as the team's 'Superman' for lack of a better term.

It was, however, not a position she was entirely suited to, as ironically enough when engaging supernatural threats she was better suited to the same role that Batman played in the Justice League, engaging with superior training, tactics and specialised tools while also acting as battlefield tactical command.

With the lack of any other candidates however, she made do. But not for long.

Thanks to a wandering little girl, Diana had gained a new cousin and uncle who were refreshingly free of the hubris of the Greek pantheon, as well as an unexpected (and terrifying) meeting with her Grandfather who was far different from the stories, she supposed death and a few millennia would calm someone down. She was pleased however to add some paternal family members she could enjoy calm moments with.

Her Uncle was willing to help, however his backlog from the previous King in addition to the repairs and ongoing negotiations for reparations with the United States government made her feel guilt for placing further demands on him.

Her younger cousin however was more than happy to "get out of the house", her Father's comments about the expansiveness of a TARDIS castle completely ignored.

Ellie was already training with her old friend Pandora (So many happy reunions) so Diana was more than willing to take her to Themascerya for an initiation to the Sisterhood of Amazon's. Danny was ecstatic that his daughter was making friends.

Now Ellie as Banshee is JLD's front line fighter and Diana is the tactician, a dynamic duo of their own. Diana is so proud of her little cousin.

Which is why today was very..... Strange.

~

Basically the JLD have to head to the Watchtower for some threat, Ellie is super pumped because SPACE and Diana is excited to take her smol bean cousin to the Watchtower for the first time.

Batman and Co arrive and Drama TM occurs because "Holy shit that little girl looks like a Talia with blue eyes", Damian starts accusing and mouthing off, Ellie freaks because her Dad has warned her about the League of Assassins, so she freaks and bails.

Diana is explaining who Ellie is, how they're related when Uncanny Valley Danny in human form comes out of a portal in his "Royal Casual" work attire. Loose jeans,button up with vest, fluffy slippers with a coffee mug in hand. He's facing Diana, paying 0 attention to who else is there beyond "cool space station".

"Hey niece, why is my daughter running through my castle screaming about killer birds?"

"Ah, I believe she is referring to Robin being a former member of the League of Assassins." Diana replies.

Batman and the rest of the Justice League are tense, assessing this possible ally who RADIATES power and death. Anyone affected by death can feel it like static in their teeth during a lightning storm. Those who have been into the Lazarus Pits feel safe yet the overwhelming urge to KNEEL BEFORE YOUR KING.

"Well shit, someone actually escaped from the Fruit Loop Supreme? Anyone who gets away from my asshole grandfather is alright by me." Danny replies as he turns to look at the various heros, taking a sip from his mug.

"Danyal?" A faint hopeful whisper as Damian takes his mask off to look at his Brother (HOW, HOW? HE LOST HIM HE'S HERE HOW?) His dead twin somehow here and changed so much.

*Slurp*

"Well shit, didn't expect this."

This entire time Bruce's brain is making crunching noises.

It's not the extra son that's apparently God of the Afterlives. It's not the granddaughter.

Diana is his son's niece. Bruce had sex with his grand niece. Barbara is right, he needs therapy.

[laenordeservedbetter]

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

Words: 1k

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader (Godly parent not specified)

Synopsis: Clarisse was fine with not getting anything she wanted until she laid her eyes on you.

Warnings: Pining, whipped!Clarisse, This is mostly in Clarisse's POV, handling of dangerous weapons (a dagger and a spear). [Let me know if I missed any.]

A/N: I apologize if the storyline is messy. I wanted this to be longer, but my attention span was not cooperating with me today. I had to take a lot of breaks while writing this because I could not sit still for more than five minutes.

masterlist || previous work

—

Clarisse remembers the first time she saw you.

You were in the forge, polishing some of the newly-made spears because you had nothing better to do. You were under the supervision of Luke since he was showing you around, but the boy had kept his distance, opting to just watch from the sidelines as you worked. Clarisse had walked into the forge, the chatter that was going on around you stopping. You discontinued what you were doing in order to look at her, wondering why your fellow campers were on-edge at her presence.

Your eyes met hers, taking her aback.

She hadn’t seen you before.

Once Clarisse realized that she was staring, she promptly cleared her throat, scowling. “What are you looking at, newbie?” She asked, crossing her arms. Her plans on scaring you, however, failed when you smiled sheepishly.

You had been equally mesmerized by her, something that she failed to notice. “Sorry, you’re just so—”

Clarisse held her breath, preparing herself for an accusation (that she’s mean and terrifying – both of which are true, but words that sting nonetheless). Though, it’s not like she’s going to think about it for the rest of –

“—Pretty.” You conclude your sentence.

Oh.

Clarisse’s brows furrowed. She thought she would hear something insulting, but instead she was met with a compliment? Her eyes searched yours once again, looking for a trace of malice. She didn’t find any, which made her confusion stir all the more. She scoffs, furious at herself for not being able to figure you out. “Whatever.” Clarisse walks away, turning her back on you so as to not show her weakness. She storms back to the Ares cabin, forgetting the reason why she went to the forge in the first place.

You frown as you look at the dagger in your hand, examining the initials engraved on the grip.

C.L.R.

---

The next time Clarisse saw you was when you were watching her train, your eyes following her every move. Clarisse pretended to ignore you until she found herself unable to focus. She put down her spear, turned to you and asked, “Would you like me to teach you?” before she could even stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

You nodded eagerly, “Yes, please.”

You walked over and Clarisse pretty much had to use all her self-restraint to not just stand there and stare at you.

“…Alright, so you hold this and—”

---

It had been ages since that day.

Even though you and Clarisse have gotten closer, there was still a part of her that longs for more. See, ninety-nine percent of the time, her wishes don’t come true. Or it does, for a little while, but then it gets ripped away from her grasp. She gets her hopes up and then it all comes crashing down – a cycle that never ends.

Clarisse has come to terms with the thought that she will never gets what she wants. She supposed that she was okay with that, but then you came along and everything changed. For every smile, every crinkle of your nose, every stupid joke that made you laugh, she finds herself wanting to wish that you would feel the same way she does.

“Clary?”

She snaps out of her reverie and looks at you, “Yes?” She felt embarrassed for not paying attention, smiling apologetically.

“I asked if you wanted to—”

“Yes.”

You sit up in her bed, laughing. “I haven’t even finished the sentence yet.” You grab her hand gingerly, locking your fingers together. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go with me—”

“Yes.”

“Clarisse,” You whine, “Let me continue first.” You pout, trying to let go of her hand, but Clarisse wouldn’t let you.

Clarisse shakes her head, holding on to your hand firmly while her other brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care. I’ll go wherever you go.” She says genuinely. Being that close to you made Clarisse’s heart race, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to look away because then you’ll know that something was up.

You stare at her in disbelief, crossing your arms, “Really? You’ll go with me to show the new kid around camp?”

Her lips purse and you know you’ve got her. Clarisse lets out a sigh of resignation. “No.” She mumbles. As much as she’d love to spend more time with you, she and you have very opposing ideas on how to welcome new campers.

“Thought so.” You deadpan.

“Why are you the one doing it, anyway?”

“Because I’m still in trouble for staying past curfew two days ago, pretty girl.”

Clarisse froze at the nickname. If her heart wasn’t beating fast before, it surely was now. You chuckle, beginning to make your way out of the bed. “Hey, no, where are you going?” Clarisse grabs your hand, another laugh escaping you.

“To give that tour.” You roll your eyes, successfully prying your hands away from Clarisse’s grip. You ignore her sounds of protest as you make your way to the door.

Clarisse could feel her stomach drop, feeling the warmth slip away the further your distance becomes. The longer she stares at you with your back turned, the longer she thinks you would leave without saying goodbye. To her surprise (and not for the first time), you look back at her.

“I’ll see you later at the bonfire.” You lean against the doorframe, your eyes narrowing. “Don’t be late, alright?”

Clarisse rolls her eyes at the look you give her. She was only late one time and that was because she was debating with herself whether to give you flowers or not. She wanted to tell you the real reason why she was late, but decided it would be best to keep her mouth shut. “I won’t.” She says instead.

“Good.” You straighten your posture, putting one foot out the door while a hand rested on the doorframe, giving Clarisse a smile she knows you only reserved for her. Only when she smiles back do you actually take your leave.

Clarisse gets a sense of hope upon your departure.

Maybe it would be different this time.

She leans back against the bed frame, sending out the same prayer to every god she could think of.

Please, please, please let me get what I want.

[cupidkenji]

killshot, baby

Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM

As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 

You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 

“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.

“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 

“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.

Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”

“If?” 

You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 

“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.

–

The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 

“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”

“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”

“Is this about an unsub?” 

“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.

“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”

“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 

She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.

“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”

“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 

“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”

“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.

– 

The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.

“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.

“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”

That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 

“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 

“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 

–

The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?

Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.

– 

The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.

“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.

“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 

You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”

He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”

“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”

He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”

Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”

He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”

You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”

–

The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 

You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.

“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.

“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 

You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 

“I can watch him.” 

Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.

You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”

He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 

“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.

–

Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 

“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?

Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 

He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”

–

You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 

You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 

Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 

Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.

Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.

“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.

You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 

He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”

“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 

“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”

You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”

He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”

Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.

He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”

“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”

You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 

Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.

– 

That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.

He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 

A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.

“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 

“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.

“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”

Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”

“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 

In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.

“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.

–

The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 

The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 

“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”

He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.

Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”

He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 

“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 

“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.

He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”

“White.”

He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”

He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 

You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”

He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”

You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.

He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”

You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”

That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”

He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”

Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”

Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.

Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.

–

You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?

The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 

You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 

He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.

You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 

The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”

You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 

“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 

“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”

Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.

“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”

“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 

“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”

“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”

“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”

Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.

[rxzennia]

a promise of forever

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 falling in love; promising an eternity in return. aventurine's real name, ~3k word vomit

aventurine has realized by now that he might just be in love with you.

okay, love is a strong word, let’s take a few steps back. 

he isn’t too sure if he’s ready to make that commitment yet, so… at least, he wants you to always be with him. to stay by his side.

he has to make the first move because you would never

he’s terrified!! he doesn’t want to be the first one to offer his heart!!

but if he doesn’t you’d be perfectly content maintaining whatever you have right now

like… boss and assistant? friends? best friends? roommates? lovers? not yet?

aeons he hated how passive you are

it’s so damn obvious that you liked him back to a certain degree

but why aren’t you trying to hold onto him? why aren’t you trying to take up more of his life like he’s doing with you? 

he wants your smiles all to himself; wants your hidden softness to only be directed at him; wants your affection for himself, all of you, including your leviathans

he loves, loves how you’ve opened up to him over time

you’ve gone from a ice cold slab of stone to a wall he trusts enough to rant at, then the highlight of his life that he doesn’t want to let go of

the way you would get upset whenever he tries to do something dangerous, even if you and he both know he’d come out fine

the way you would pick up the phone regardless of when or why he’s calling, even if you’re off duty and annoyed at him ringing you at 2am

the way you would, without considering his feelings, cringe and back away when he accidentally brings you food you hate, but ultimately feed it to your scarf because you don’t want to waste it

he loves them all. your reactions, your expressions, everything

especially when he’s probably the only one to see so much of you all the time

he wants to keep hearing you talk about yourself, keep learning more about you, even the parts of you that no one’s ever known before

he didn’t want to tell you all of that, yet he wants you to know

except you’ve made it very clear with your personality that if he doesn’t tell you, you won’t pry

and, like, you can’t read minds. neither can he.

so you’ve essentially forced him into confessing :(

if he wants your friendship (and more), he has to be the one who asks

aventurine remembers how cold you were at the beginning, so much so that he briefly wondered if working under him was amount to torture for you as it was for a few of his previous secretaries.

you never talked more than absolutely necessary, you've always had that terrifying glare, and couple these things with the fact that he rarely saw your face? yeah, you didn’t look like you wanted to be there.

he tried to transfer you elsewhere. under topaz, maybe, or even jade, or even some other department but you've never replied.

but you've replied to his texts before and after that?

you've just flat out ignored the transfer offer?

does this mean you don't want to be transferred?

that's probably when his fascination with you started

you, who's so detached and seems to dislike him, wanting to stay as his secretary?

he tried to ask you about it once, but all he got was “there's still a year before my contract expires”

which, well, yes, fair enough

but you should also know that if he's the one bringing it up, you won’t be getting into trouble for breaking the contract

he drops it, though, because he knows that there might be certain things you don't want to tell him

or perhaps you don't understand

he feels like you're very bad with emotions and expressing your thoughts

you are, honestly

it’s a different story with the permanent offer he made you a while ago, though

“are you sure?” you asked, with rare anticipation in your eyes

he chuckles, “absolutely.”

you try to hide your joy, but the speed at which you signed the paper is telltale enough

he’s also promoted you from secretary to assistant

even though you’re pretty much his assistant already

you don’t really know how to feel about that part

does this mean you’ll get even busier? not really? will you still be staring at contracts at 3am?

then comes aventurine’s offer for you to move in with him.

you’ve managed to finally notice that the dynamic between you and your boss resembles that of typical lovers in the media, but what do you know? one, aventurine is probably unused to someone else’s company so he’s compensating for it, and two, it’s not like you’re versed enough in mortal sentiments to make an accurate judgement.

he cuddles up to you in his sleep

he’ll smack your face accidentally when he wakes up and stretches

“this is the twenty-third time you’ve done this.” your scarf morphs into half a faceless snake and push his hand back down

why the hell have you been keeping count

you’ve mostly lined your morning routine up with his

efficiency, you tell yourself, it’ll be easier to keep yourselves on schedule

which means you find yourself with him at the breakfast table more often than not

he’s eating normally, while you… 

you have a leviathan chewing on the entire plate, and yes that includes the ceramic

what about you? you’re preparing presentations and drafting contracts, of course!

or sometimes fighting for your life in corporate emails :/

is starting the day together really still simply “efficiency” at this point?

you’re starting to think you’re lying to yourself as the days go by

maybe you’ve been living amongst mortals for too long

because you find him so precious that you want to hold him dearly and give him everything

he’s so scared of being vulnerable, but he’s willing to lower his guard around you

what is this foreign feeling? what’s with this odd desire to protect? to hoard?

like how dragons hoard treasure, or how crows hoard shiny things

has anyone told you you’re terrible at emotions?

you’re terrible at emotions

you’ve memorized every little thing he likes and every little habit he has

and he noticed! of course he noticed!

are you absolutely sure you don’t like him even a little bit?

are you absolutely sure you have nothing to say to him?

must he make the first move when you’re so blatantly obvious?

he really, really, hates you (lovingly) for this

aventurine eventually comes to terms with it. if he wants you, officially, he’ll have to bare his innermost thoughts first.

there’s a period of distancing, and a period of overwhelming anxiety and overthinking all on his own. but even then you didn’t pull away from him, no; you were patient. you’ve asked, then left him alone when he turned his head away, then you’ve kept it professional. you didn’t question him again after, either.

it stung a little when you acted all formal with him, but it’s your little actions in-between that convinced him to finally come out and say it. getting him coffee the way he likes it, letting him find comfort in your presence at night even if he’s suddenly closed himself off, ordering his favorite takeout when it’s a slow day, covering his openings when you find yourselves locked in combat… you’ve always been looking after him, haven’t you?

finally, finally, aventurine decides to confess.

considering how little he knows about you, he (surprisingly) isn’t too worried about giving you his heart

well, of course there is the tiniest amount of doubt and fear

but mostly he thinks you wouldn’t betray his trust. mostly.

you’re a walking green flag, after all

maybe with the exception of when you’re left alone with monsters

but the way you treat him? green flag. massive green flag.

even after he’s told you a little bit about his past, you haven’t looked down on him at all

he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked down on him

though, he thought you thought him despicable when you first met because of the way you looked at him

not unreasonable with the stereotypes against his people and all

but you’ve proven his assumption wrong on your first day

you were totally cooperative and really… well, not nice, but not hard to work with, either

despite your unresponsiveness, you’ve kept everything he said in mind

that’s not how one behaves around someone they find distasteful

and after spending so much time with you, he realized that’s just how your stare is

you sort of… look down on everyone without meaning to 

you have no idea how relieved he was when he could finally be certain that you’ve never disliked him

also! he can discern between your stares now

your resting neutral stare, your happy stare, your disgusted stare, they’d look the same to the average person, but not to him anymore

(he was super happy when he realized he’s got it all down)

he’s learned to read you because you’re so reserved and detached all the time

oh how he wished you’d tell him more about yourself

before anyone asks, he did try to dig up your past

imagine his surprise when he found nothing, like, literally nothing

the one time he watched you eat a monster whole was the first time he learned something deeper about you

he then realized that it wasn’t a coincidence that he couldn’t find anything about you

anyways, back to the confession

he’s come up with an entire plan in his head, but he really has no idea how to execute it

he wants to make it as memorable as possible for you! 

except… would you even like a grand confession (of companionship)?

in the end, he took you out to a fancy dinner under the guise of “just another dinner date with your boss”

he’ll tell you his feelings at home

he has an inkling that you’d prefer it that way. intimate and private.

“hey…” aventurine starts, sitting down next to you on the bed after his shower, “i’ve been thinking…”

you naturally pull the towel off his shoulders and stand up to dry his hair for him. “you think?”

“stop, i’m serious,” he complains, punching your stomach playfully before burying his face in your shirt. “hear me out, you oversized snake.”

that’s the first time you’ve heard that nickname. “what?” you can’t help but be amused at the creative insults, then you let out a soft sigh and shut your mouth.

“you know how you’re now my permanent assistant?” aventurine slowly says, wrapping his arms around your waist as you work on his head, “can i… can we keep having this arrangement?”

you reply with a hum, but your tone slides up towards the end, like you’re asking a question. he chuckles, of course you’re confused, you’re so dense sometimes.

aventurine shifts around until he’s looking up at you. “this. you and i, living together, taking care of each other,” he elaborates, his eyes half-closed from how tired he is, “can you… stay?” then, with a quieter voice, he adds, “with me?”

you take some time to think about it as you toss the towel aside and bring out the hair dryer

from what you know about him, this is a very, very big request for him

he’s essentially asking if he can rely on you 

even though he’s probably relied on himself most of his life

he wants to put his faith in you? you’re flattered, really

it seems like he’s also checking off a lot boxes for what people call “love”

according the the movies and books you’ve watched and read, anyway

but he’s not calling it “love”? is this something else, then?

you start blow drying his hair, carding through his blond locks with your free hand

he relaxes into your touch

“well? your answer?” aventurine asks, a slight shake in his voice as he peeks at you nervously.

“you sound like the protagonist of a romance movie,” you remark, leaning down to give him a quick peck on his head, “is this what it is?” 

suddenly, it dawns on you why exactly were there flowers at dinner

roses, no less

but jeez, you did not need to call him out like that

what happened to oblivious and clueless?

then again, you’re bad with your own emotions, but you’re horribly good at reading others’

he flushes and hides his face in your stomach

he just wants to hear your answer, not hear you point out he’s probably extremely smitten with you

and it’s probably worse that you compared him to the lead actors in a romance movie

is he so obvious? is he not subtle at all?

does this mean you’ve known all along? you just didn’t want to make the first move?

or do you not feel the same way?

oh no, he’s overthinking again

“aventurine,” you call, snapping him out of his trance, “if you don’t say no, i’ll assume this is a love confession.”

man, why would you say it like that? it’s not that he can deny it, but if you’re going to be so damn straightforward…

“it… it is, i suppose, in more ways than one,” he whimpers in embarrassment, “will you, then, uh, will you say yes?”

he wants to trust you with all of himself so bad

finally he won’t have to shoulder everything alone anymore

he’ll tell you everything about his upbringing, even the ugliest parts

he’s been yearning for someone to hear him, to see him for so long

will you be his person?

he’s so excited and so scared

more scared than excited, actually

there are more issues he’ll need to work through, but for now?

he wants your promise

he doesn’t think he’ll ever come across someone as perfect as you again

so he really, really, really needs you to say yes 

as the low whirr of the hair dryer comes to a stop, you set the little device on the nightstand and sit down next to aventurine. you sandwich his face between your palms and make him meet your gaze – you’ll never get used to how mystically pretty his eyes are – as you flash him a lazy smile.

“if you’re sure you want me,” you mumble; it seems that you are just as embarrassed as he is, “then… by all means.”

just as he’s going to throw himself into your arms, you stand up

?????? where are you going ??????

oh, you’re just going to put away the hair dryer and the towel

and also bring a spare scarf back with you? 

did you forget that you have yours hanging on your neck

he’s so over the moon right now he’s all giddy and all over the place inside

are you perhaps the same? 

when you come back, he practically throws himself into your lap

you avoid his eyes

holy shit you’re cute when you’re flustered

you’re blushing

you, who’s usually so stoic and unresponsive, is blushing!!

and trying to hide your face without resorting to your scarf!!

in the end you give up and instead pull him so close that he can’t see your expression

he doesn’t know what he’s asking out, you think, he doesn’t know what he’s trying to trust

which makes it all the more endearing to you

and it makes you want to make sure you live up to his expectations

this little mortal has you wrapped around his finger, and you don’t find yourself annoyed at all

in fact you want to shelter him and coddle him so badly that you’re tempted to act on instinct

tempted to. you can’t, because of a lot a lot of reasons

again, seriously, you’ve been hanging around mortals for far too long

you gently press his face into your shoulder. “aven-” 

“kakavasha,” he corrects, “call me kakavasha. please.”

“okay, kakavasha.” you don’t hesitate, and you move to massage his scalp. “your real name?”

it seems like he’s in no mood to talk, because all he gives you is a quiet hum in affirmation; you agree with him, you don’t feel like talking much, either.

you pull away slightly to kiss right above his ear. then you did something he would’ve never expected you to do – with your nimble fingers, you wrapped the extra scarf in your hands around his neck, gave it a few loops then secured it with the same knot you use to secure yours.

what just happened

you slowly pull away with a soft pat to the piece of cloth

did you just give him…?

you did. you did, you mad danger noodle of incomprehensible mass

two faceless creatures with drool dripping from their maws stare at him

they’re connected to the scarf you put on him

he’s feeling so many things right now

even if he doesn’t quite understand what this means, he at least knows that you’ve given him a literal part of yourself

you’re very into this idea of being with him, huh…?

boy, he’s so glad he decided to confess

because he would’ve never known had he not asked

and what do you mean he would’ve missed out on something so wonderful?

this is also the first time someone outside of his family has ever given him something so precious and personal

he awkwardly reaches out to pet them

they nudge against his hand happily? 

that’s weirdly adorable for a creature that has a diet of literal monsters 

and much like satisfied pets, they disappear into the scarf after they’ve gotten their fill of petting

“for me?” aventurine- no, kakavasha asks, tentatively running his hands across the smooth fabric.

“proof of my loyalty to you,” you reply, taking his hand and placing kisses on his every finger. 

what you don’t tell him is that your promise will last for eternity and beyond – even if you fight, or part ways, you’ll always watch over him. he doesn’t need to know that. not yet, anyway.

“you…” kakavasha feels like he’s a child all over again. he’s safe, he’s not making a wager, he’s not going to win or lose here, he can finally take a breather. “you have no idea…”

he buries his face into you, grabs your sides so he can press his body tightly against yours, and he sobs into your chest. he isn’t surprised at all that the scarf around your neck would wrap around him too, and he’s just all bundled up in you.

“shh, shh.” you pat his back and rock him back and forth. “easy now,” you whisper, “i’m here, kakavasha.”

aeons, he really, really loves the sound of your voice, especially when you say his name. when it was aventurine, you were reliable, loyal, and above all, gentle; when he finally allows you to call him kakavasha, every syllable from your lips drips with unspoken affection and a gratefulness that he’s unused to.

maybe someday he’ll finally be able to proudly profess his love to you. but at this very moment…

this is enough.

[celestemona]

WHEN THEY’RE DADS

and how they deal with their children and domestic life. part ii.

pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, alhaitham x fem! reader

cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnancy is mentioned to introductions but not too elaborated. not beta read. a bit longer than the previous ones.

kazuha’s part | part. i

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

 Cyno

If there was something that the General Mahamatra valued beyond justice and absolute truth, it’d be the loyalty of those around him without asking for anything in return. Cyno could count on both hands the number of people he’d risk his life to or who’d have his back, and to be honest, there weren't many of them. Thus, the passing of the years only solidified this philosophy, confirming that trust wasn’t something to be given, but earned — it being the reason why he only kept a certain number of people close to him.

However, this belief had also shown Cyno that some priorities were greater than others, and ensuring your happiness and safety became the main one of them all. Especially when you were also the one carrying his babies.

Your pregnancy announcement was unexpected, but the change in your husband's personality wasn’t. As your belly grew, you could notice that Cyno became a little more clingy with you, enjoying being by your side or placing his warm hands on it to feel his children's kicks. Though, the mahamatra also couldn't help but be more overprotective or bossy towards you, traits that seemed to have intensified over the months. 

Cyno liked to think that his overprotectiveness was justified since not only had he become a first-time father but of twins. His bossy acts weren’t for nothing either. It was just because your husband knew you and your impulsiveness very well, so the slightest thought of the risks that you could put yourself out there of your own free will stressed him out already.

And this last one you seemed to do on purpose to test him since you had put yourself in critical situations more times than he wished to count.

So, to ease his worries and keep an eye on you, the decision to temporarily settle in Vila Aaru was mutually agreed, providing Cyno with a momentary sense of peace knowing that his very pregnant wife would be surrounded by competent and trustworthy people. And then, his children could be born in a comfortable and safe environment.

The decision couldn't have been the best because a few months later and just a few minutes apart, Aryan and Isaar were born on a cold night.

The leader of the Matras still can remember that it was when he was returning to the village from a patrol when he was greeted first by your painful screams and then by the sight of your sweaty and tearful figure. Your husband didn't think twice before taking Candace's place behind your back to give you the support you needed, sharing his strength with you and whispering comforting words in your ear.

Internally, Cyno felt more than terrified for this new stage in his life despite all the previous months of mental preparation. But as he watched in amazement Aryan in his arms and Isaar in yours, the mahamatra concluded that there were no books or scrolls in the world that could describe the feelings that coursed through his veins at that moment. There wasn't enough knowledge that could teach him how to be a father, and even so, he knew he’d learn along the way to be the best he could.

The first few weeks of adaptation were exhausting for both of you. Cyno was on leave from his position, being at yours and his babies disposal and dealing with most of the household tasks, which relieved you a lot. But if he ever thought that nothing would overcome the hardness of his work at Akademiya, the sleepless nights with his newborn twins proved him wrong. 

It wasn't something he complained about or refused to take on, though. He preferred you to rest as much as you could after spending the whole day with the children — it was more his lack of confidence in dealing with the little ones in your absence that tormented him.

As time went on, however, what he thought were difficult tasks became routine, so he could say with some confidence that he had adapted to fatherhood quite well. The bond between father and sons was also something that developed beautifully as the days went by, and some mornings, you’d be greeted with the sweet sight of the General Mahamatra sleeping on the armchair in the twins' room while holding both of them in his muscular arms.

Speaking of the twins, Aryan and Isaar couldn’t be as physically similar to Cyno more than they were already. The babies, just a few months old, have already demonstrated that they share the same personality with each other, which they also take after their father — the stoic and slightly indifferent expression frighteningly similar to Cyno. Aryan was a little more sullen, refusing to acknowledge others' attempts to make him smile while Isaar willingly raised his arms to familiar faces with the intention of getting something in return. 

While you watched them in disbelief, your husband smiled proudly. It seems his children were already good judges of character.

Strange in its own way, but a home full of love. That would be the phrase to define your family. Although both you had divergent methods of raising your children, the twins still had complete freedom of decision about what they judged to be right or wrong. Cyno would never punish his sons for their choices; instead, he’d wisely correct them. Even though outwardly he shows rigidity and authority, Cyno is quite soft when it comes to his family so he can't stay mad at you for long.

It was honestly a strange sight for many, mainly his subordinates and the scholars who knew the man's unorthodox methods of discipline very well.

Even so, they couldn’t help but admit that fatherhood suited him well. Strangely, but still.

They only feared the possibility that in the future the boys would develop a sense of humor as horrible as their father.

Kaveh

If they asked Kaveh what his greatest achievements are, he’d readily answer that there are three of them, although two had the greatest highlights.

Even if the architect was proud of the effort and dedication that led him to give life to the Palace of Alcazarzaray, the importance of the project seemed to be irrelevant compared to the fact that he managed to win you heart. After all, maybe there was nothing so disputed between men and women all around of Teyvat but to capture the attention of the Gem of Liyue. And in a way as ironic and simple as it seemed to be, Kaveh was the only one to be able to accomplish such a feat.

As the younger sister of the Tianquan of the Qixing, it wasn’t surprising that you were also known for your intelligence, elegance and beauty, so it was expected of your people that you’d marry someone with all these qualities and wealth that could satisfy your desires. 

However, they didn't know you as well as Ningguang and how Kaveh came to know you, and so, it was unexpected news that resonated for weeks when you announced your marriage.

At that time, so much uproar from the press and liyuean citizens had made Kaveh doubt himself because, well… did he even have all the means necessary to provide you with a comfortable life? He was slowly recovering from his debts and had barely started building his own house. Compared to you who literally lived in a mansion and ate from a golden platter he had nothing.

Nevertheless, you assured him that no gold or mora in the whole world could equal the love you had for him, only his reciprocal affection was what you were looking for.

And because your husband cares and loves you so deeply, Kaveh couldn't feel anything but thankfulness when you granted him with the greatest pride of his life. His daughter, Zahra.

The baby hadn't even been born and was already very adored by her father. During your pregnancy, Kaveh had been nothing but a passionate and devoted husband, helpful and attentive to both you and her. His passion for art led him to challenge himself and bring only the best when it comes to projecting Zahra's room, as well as designing the crib and its decorations. You couldn't help but watch with a smile on your face as he worked hard to provide only the best for his child.

When Zahra decided to come into the world, your husband's tearful, fascinated face only confirmed what you already knew: Kaveh would be an extraordinary father.

“I swear that I’ll protect you from all the cruelty of this world. And even if the day comes that I don't have the strength to do so, I’ll still keep you safe”, he promised as he placed a kiss on the baby's forehead.

You just smiled with equally teary eyes at the sweet scene.

Kaveh didn't know the meaning of the word tired when it came to his daughter. The blonde man loved having the baby in his arms, and when it came to her basic needs, he was a great help by proudly taking on the tasks. In fact, in the first weeks of Zahra's life, he had refused to let her sleep alone in her new room, and when you insisted on putting her in her crib, Kaveh would spend the entire night by her side. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to his little princess in his absence.

You could just roll your eyes.

As Zahra grew up, she became an increasingly beautiful girl and was much loved by her parents. Her naturally rosy cheeks and golden hair decorated with barrettes or bows made people compare her to a doll. The girl has a beauty and features similar to her father, though her sweet and laughing personality is her own traits. Kaveh feared that one day the evil of the world would take away the melodious sounds of her laughter, but there was a slight mischievous gleam in her golden eyes that betrayed that she was quite clever too.

In addition to her parents' unconditional love, Zahra also has a close relationship with her mother's sister, who has a weak spot for her niece, and with her paternal grandmother. 

Shortly before marrying you, the older woman had tried to invest more in her son's life, now making sure of participating in dinners, commemorative dates or holidays.

For a long time Kaveh believed that he wasn’t worthy of such happiness. After his father's death and his mother's estrangement, the architect had a single objective: trying to survive one day at a time, fighting his own demons and relying on what little was left of his savings. He had never considered himself a man of honor, someone who was worthy of having his own family and a home to return to. In fact, he didn't consider himself a lucky man at all.

And yet, he couldn't feel as fortunate as he did because through all the paths he took and decisions he made, one of them led him to you and gave him the greatest achievements of his life.

Alhaitham

Hardly anyone would admit it out loud, but your presence in the halls of Akademiya was as fresh as a breath of spring air.

As the new Darshan teacher of Haravatat, your intelligence and passion for knowledge were characteristics that not only your students came to admire, but even the sages themselves gushed praise about, which eventually earned you a reputation that spread throughout the dendro nation. Furthermore, your beauty and charisma only complemented your charm, so there were many hearts that you had caught along the way — and consequently also have broken, as the slight bulge beneath your clothes and the golden ring shining on your left ring finger made it very clear who yours already belonged to.

To say that the beginning of your relationship with the Akademiya’s Scribe was even the subject of an academic thesis would be an understatement given that Alhaitham wasn’t someone who was known for his friendliness much less cordiality. In fact, his disinterested expression and acid humor worked precisely as a mechanism to purposefully keep people away from him, and even his friends weren’t immune to his unpleasant comments.

But even though the question remained, the students quickly learned that this attitude would never apply to you.

Like a moth drawn to the light, Alhaitham was equally drawn to you, they concluded. There was something about you that just your presence was enough to generate a small and not so noticeable change in Alhaitham's aura, even if to others he remained as rigid as he was. Besides, the progress of your pregnancy had also shown them that the scribe was as human as they were, he just had a less flashy way of showing his concern and care for his wife.

What the scholars and citizens of Sumeru saw, however, was just the tip of the iceberg compared to the affection you received from your husband when the doors to your home closed. Although Alhaitham hadn't shown his excitement as openly as you, the scribe was internally happy to begin a new stage of life by your side. And you could see this in the number of maternity books and notebooks with notes organized in his office, in the meals he had prepared meticulously thinking about nutritional values ​​or in the care he took to suggest and choose a simple and meaningful name for your baby.

His actions were small and discreet, but enough to prove to you that he already loved the child as much as you did.

Hakim's arrival into the world also showed you the efforts your husband would make for his son. With a smile gracing his lips and slightly teary eyes, Alhaitham allowed himself to express himself a little more in the face of such a beautiful moment. It wasn't something that even you saw frequently and, therefore, you’d certainly make sure to eternalizing the picture forever in your memory.

“Thank you”, was the only thing he could say to you while looking at you with enormous tenderness.

Despite the overwhelming happiness that coursed within him, the scribe also couldn't help but feel a little empty at his grandmother's absence. Even though the longing was something he had managed for a long time now, it was in moments like these that the lady's absence came back. He was sure she’d love meeting you and her great-grandson, but wherever she was, he also knew she was taking care of his family in her own way.

Furthermore, looking at you and the child that slept so peacefully in his arms, Alhaitham knew that there was nothing to fear and that his son would grow up in a home filled with as much love as he was.

Therefore, fatherhood wasn't something that scared Alhaitham nor did it make him doubt his ability to take care of his son. If someone asked him what his biggest challenges were, he wouldn't be able to think of any because every day he was faced with something new and learned from it. Plus, Hakim was a sweet and quiet baby, a mix of both parents' personalities. Understanding his child's needs was as easy as if they were his own.

Still so small, Hakim would be surrounded by reading and multiple knowledge, often being found in the arms of one of his parents while you were working or simply reading for pleasure. You discovered that the baby liked to listen to you or Alhaitham reading aloud, so it wasn't strange to find you or your husband somewhere in the house reciting some academic article with the little one within reach.

When the boy was old enough to sit up, that’d be the time when you’d return to teaching at Akademiya, and even if your baby's presence during classes had already been discussed and authorized, Alhaitham wouldn’t hesitate to take over his care — whether taking him to his own office or to the Sanctuary of Surasthana where he would spend hours enjoying the attention of Lesser Lord Kusanali.

You could say that Alhaitham is a simplistic man. He recognizes his flaws and knows that he came with many of them, which is why he distances himself from so many people. But it was in the moments when he returned home, returning to you and your son who were waiting for him with great enthusiasm that the man thought that there was nothing as perfect as his own home.

.

.

you guys will have to forgive me again but i did not beta-read this part (clearly) nor i'll have the patience to do so because i'm currently traveling at my granny's home and it's so hot here that i couldn't even write this whole headcanon without stop everytime to take a breath of fresh air. therefore, i won't have the patience to look for mistakes now. i'll let it with you tho.

also, i remember i've said in the last part that if perhaps i start to write a genshin dad series i'd write only for the first four man i came up the idea to. however, i'm hypocrital and slut for the sumeru men too so i couldn't stop myself but draft their children biography.

i really hope you've like it so far because, for real, alhaitham's part was the hardest one and somehow i feel like this isn’t good enough to be posted. nevertheless, thank you for your reading :)

[priyajoyyy]

Sleepy

(idk how to name fics that aren’t based off a song)

Clarisse la rue x Aphrodite!fem!reader

Reader sneaks into clarisses bed after a nightmare, forgetting that she was wearing short shorts and a tiny bra top, but people definitely remember when she walks back to the Aphrodite cabin wearing clarisses large shirt and what looks like nothing underneath…

Warnings:

Established relationship, implied new relationship, implied friendship to lovers, boys (gross ew) sexualising reader a bit, bad writing sorry, half of these are not warnings

lol sorry 😔 , fluff, poor dialogue because I’m still trying to work out how to properly write dialogue lol.

You couldn’t really remember what happened.

One minute you were gasping out in your cabin, hearing one of your sister grumble at you to be quiet, sitting up with wet cheeks and blurry eyes.

And the next minute you had grabbed your teddy bear and started making your way towards the ares cabin.

And of course you didn’t take notice of what you chose to wear to bed that day, you were half asleep and terrified from the nightmare you’d just had, the dark forest surrounding you not helping at all.

“Claire…” you whispered to the girl, shaking her a little, “can I sleep with you”

You knew you hadn’t woken anybody up in the ares cabin, seeing as they would be a lot more verbal about their annoyance being woken up than most of your own siblings would be.

However you also hadn’t been successful in waking your girlfriend up either, shaking her a little more before giving up.

You figured she wouldn’t mind you just getting to bed, you had slept in her cabin a handful of times before, and you knew she had a long day of practice planned for the next day in preparation for an upcoming quest, so she could deal with not being woken.

You had normally snuck out of the ares cabin before anyone could notice you the previous times you had stayed, though you hardly thought it mattered right now, no one would dare snitch on Clarisse so as long as Chiron didn’t see you you would be fine.

You crawled into the bed and snuck under clarisses arm, her grip tightening around you snuggly, and it didn’t take long to fall asleep in that state.

By the time you woke up. You could hear giggling surrounding you.

You didn’t take much notice, your sisters were often scheming in the early hours of the morning and you had always been a light sleeper, so it wasn’t really their fault it woke you.

It wasn’t till you heard a snapping noise and through your eyelids saw the faint light of a flash going off that you became more aware, your brain waking up and remembering what had happened the night before.

Obviously Clarisse hadn’t woken yet. Like it was proven last night, unlike you, she was a very deep sleeper, and you could still feel her arm around you and you begun to slowly get up in confusion.

“Shit, quick” you heard one of the kids stood by the bed infront of you say before taking another picture, the light momentarily blinding you.

The two ran off quickly, hiding the camera somewhere as you became aware that most of clarisses other siblings were watching you both also, laughing or trying not to.

It wasn’t exactly a normal sight to see Clarisse cuddled up in bed, arms wrapped around her girlfriend and teddy bear laying next to them.

Quickly, turning red, you jumped to get up, still not clocking what you were wearing.

Clarisses elder brother, emmet, certainly had however, staring at your boobs as you sat up quickly in bed and laughing along with his brother, and smacking their arm to get him to pay attention.

“Hey y/n, you don’t have to leave just yet” Ben, the other said as you searched around the bed for your phone. (Ik that technically their phones didn’t work in all ways but in my head I imagine them still having them at camp for photos and stuff)

“Yeah, we don’t need Clarisse to have a good time” emmett laughed as they approached you, his eyes resting on your ass as you bent over slightly, searching the bed.

“You could stay around tonight as well if you want…My bunks always free” he said, both of them laughing as though it was the funniest things he’d ever heard.

“Leave her alone” one of the girls said from her bed, adding, “Clarisse will kill you if she finds out anyway”

You turned around to face the two and stumbled back into the bed a little when you noticed them both closer to your body.

“Finds out what?” Clarisse asked in a groggy voice, looking up at her girlfriend’s back from her spot in bed in confusion, not knowing why you were there.

“Nothing clarry it’s fine” you said softly, turning your head round to her and smiling at her nervously, not wanting to cause any issues so early in the morning.

Clarisses younger sister kitty however had no problems causing an argument between the girl and their gross brothers, opting to kill two birds with one stone by telling on them to Clarisse.

“Oh nothing” kitty stated sarcastically, causing Clarisse to turn to her and glare.

“Kitty” she warned, demanding her to explain what’s going on to her in one word.

“They were just being rude to y/n is all” she stated with a smirk, jumping off of her bunk that she had been sat on and walking towards the bathroom as if she didn’t say anything, wanting to tell the girls in there about what was about to happen.

You didn’t know if you were glad she was somewhat standing up for you or annoyed that she was trying to start a fight this early in the morning, something bound to ruin clarisses, and in turn, everyone else’s, mood for the rest of the day.

And as you watched kitty return from the other room with 3 others following her, trying to act inconspicuous, you decided you wanted to kill her. Very

“No it’s fine Clarisse I promise” you attempted to reassure your girlfriend.

“Yeah clarisse, it’s fine” Benjamin added in a mocking voice, sitting on his bed as if he had no cares in the world.

Clarisse started to stand from her bed at that, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you along with her, “Come here baby”

She guided you across the room, not really giving you a chance to turn until you had both reached your destination.

She bent down to search through the bottom drawer of the cabinet she had lead you to, rummaging through the shirts and tops.

You were weirded out by her sudden dismissal of her brothers, especially given their taunts, but you were glad nonetheless.

You turned back to look at them and caught them both still watching you, Ben still sat on the bed while emmet lent on a cabinet near it, smirking at you.

Eventually Clarisse pulled out an orange camp half blood tshirt, handing it up to you, grabbing your attention again before closing the drawer.

You looked at her in confusion, why was she handing you her, far too big for you, tshirt? Clarisse not yet acknowledging you as she walked back over to the two boys, watching you both from bens bed.

“You two are gonna apologise to my girlfriend right now and the only punishment you’re gonna get is laundry duty for two weeks…” Clarisse told the two in a scarily calm voice, “or, if not, we can go to training and I can beat your asses for thinking it’s ok to disrespect my girlfriend like that”

The two boys looked less amused now, Ben scowling and emmet rolling his eyes like a child about to throw a tantrum.

“And…you can beg 3 weeks of laundry duty” Clarisse added with a smirk, staring them down until they backed down.

“Ok whatever” Ben muttered, giving up first, “sorry y/n”

“I-it’s ok” you replied from the cabinet, clutching onto clarisses shirt.

“No y/n, it’s not ok” Clarisse said sternly, turning to her other half-brother with an expectant look in her eye, “emmet?”

After a slight pause with no response Clarisse stepped forwards raising her eyebrows at her brother, both of you watching his scowl deepen before giving in.

“Sorry” he stated, rolling his eyes.

“Nah that’s not good enough…” Clarisse told him with a grin, “try again”

“Clarisse it’s fine really” you told her, watching her just shake her head in response.

“Fine, I’m sorry y/n…good enough?” He said in annoyance.

“Perfect” Clarisse said stepping back and walking towards you, not turning around to tell them, “might wanna get those clothes to the laundry room…the hampers are looking pretty full”

“You didn’t need to do that” you told her with a pout, still holding onto the shirt she had handed you.

“You ok baby?” She asked.

“Yeah I’m fine, I said that” you reassured, gesturing to her shirt, assuming it was for her to wear, “do you want your shirt back?”

“Baby have you seen what you’re wearing?” Clarisse laughed, “I mean I don’t mind at all but I can’t imagine you’re gonna have fun running back to your cabin in a bra top, tiny shorts and no shoes”

With that she handed you some slippers off of the floor by her bed.

At that you finally realised why she wanted you to wear the top, looking down at your body, as your cheeks began to turn red you shyly looked back up at Clarisse and smiled at her with a giggle.

“Thank you” you told her, throwing the shirt over yourself and slipping the shoes on your feet.

“Now I hate to kick you out baby but I think if you stay any longer Chiron will see you” Clarisse told you, her hands reaching your waist.

“Yeah you’re probably right” you stated, not making any moves to walk away yet.

Clarisse leaned down to kiss you, her grip on your waist tightening slightly as she did.

You both continued to kiss for a moment before you heard laughs behind Clarisse, opening your eyes to see kitty and 3 other girls sat on a bed watching you.

Clarisse glares at the girls and you laugh at her. “Ok I should go then”

“I’ll see you later” Clarisse told you, knowing she’d come find you at lunch if she didn’t see you before then.

“Ok” you replied simply, picking up your teddy from the bed and walking towards the door of the cabin.

You noticed the stares on you as you rushed back to your own cabin, the children already up watching you depart from the Ares cabin wearing barely any clothes holding a teddy bear.

You were as quick as you could be, hoping not to get caught by Chiron and get back before he started making his rounds of the camp.

You heard a whistle from your right, an older boy watching you rush past him, you scowling in reply and raising a middle finger to him and you walked past.

You were just glad Clarisse wasn’t with you to start a fight with him for it.

Haven’t proof read this yet lol 😭

Taglist:

@slaggylemon @yourmom-25s-blog @l0veshellarcelia

[darthannie]

potential side effects

pairing: Jonathan Crane x f!reader summary: After giving you an experimental medication, Dr. Crane helps you get over your fear of intimacy.  word count: 2,143 warnings: 18+, minors DNI for the love of god, DARK, rough at points, I’m gonna go ahead and say NONCON, au where Dr. Crane has a private practice, abuse of power, reader is under the influence (kinda like the fear toxin), reader is sleepy, Crane doesn't take no for an answer, dacryphilia, inexperienced!reader, floor sex, spit, fighting back, a smidge of aftercare at the end. a/n: Please do not read if you’re not into what's in the warnings. I had fun experimenting with this one. I tried to be a little more thorough in the warnings. Better safe than sorry. I’m still toying around with Jonathan’s voice. Let me know if you want more of this kind of thing, or something different. I’d love to interact with you guys more!

Dr. Jonathan Crane had been treating you for the better part of a year and was in the midst of creating a new medication regimen for you. Your previous treatment plan was not working as intended, so it was back to the drawing board.

He selected you as the first person to receive an experimental medication. It was meant to be inhaled and doses were to be given during the time of the appointment. You didn’t necessarily know what to expect. He’d briefly mentioned that there may be potential side effects but didn’t go into much detail. 

You were nervous the first time you’d gone in to receive a dose. As you approached the door to his office you felt a lump begin to form in your throat. You knocked and after a moment he opened the door. Jonathan always wore the same thing most of the time. Today he donned a black blazer and slacks with a white button-up. His red tie was placed right at the center of his collar. His dark hair framed his face perfectly. He looks good today, you thought, better than usual. 

You exchanged your normal pleasantries and sat across from him on a couch. His office was spacious and dark. All the furniture was made of wood. In the corner, there was a big bookcase that consisted of books on fear, pharmacology, and different editions of the DSM. The DSM-4 was missing from the shelf, presumably on his desk. 

The room brought you a lot of comfort. It was the only place you ever got to see him. It felt like Dr. Crane was the only person in all of Gotham that understood you. It was his job after all. 

Soon the time came for him to administer the medication. 

“I’m going to spray in front of your face and you’re going to breathe in. It doesn’t take much to be effective.”, he said. 

You nodded and he sprayed. 

Your nerves subsided almost immediately and your mind became quiet.

“Any difference?”, he asked. 

“My mind is silent. All my racing thoughts have stopped.” 

“Good. That means it’s working. Some of the other side effects may begin to set in now.” 

He was right. Like clockwork, you started to get drowsy. It was like someone had given you a little too much Benadryl. It was hard to keep your eyes open. 

“Dr. Crane? Is this normal?” You couldn’t help but drag the ’s’. 

“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just the medication working. How do you feel?” He seemed a tad on edge as he awaited your answer. 

“I feel all warm inside.” 

He then leaned back against his desk. “Any drowsiness?”

“Lots of it.” You chuckled slightly.

“That is normal.” He said, answering your question. “The medication was likely to make you feel tired.”

“Does it go away?”

“As your body builds up a tolerance, the effects will lessen. Now, I wanted to talk about the recent screenings you filled out. I would like you to check over them and rate their accuracy on a scale from one to five, five being very accurate.” 

He handed you a piece of paper and you looked it over. “Four.”

“Why not five?” His eyebrows furrowed. 

“Number six. ’S worse.” Question number six pertained to your interest in sex. More specifically how terrified you were of having it. 

It was a topic you were working on with Dr. Crane since it impacted your life so much. You were hesitant to mention it at first, but he assured you it was better to talk about it instead of holding it in. So, you spilled every detail. This included your inability to get yourself off and failed hook-up attempts.

You’d try very hard but when it came time for you to do the deed you shut down and found a way out of the situation. You hadn’t been getting out there much because, frankly, the thought of being intimate with someone was frightening. You didn’t know how you’d ever get over it. 

“Have you sought out any partners to help with your fears?”, he asked.

You took a moment to process what he said. “No, I haven’t. I can’t. It’s too-“

“Frightening, yes I remember you using that word.” He removed his glasses before continuing. “I think there’s a way I can help you with that. Personally.”

You yawned. “What do you mean by that doctor?” 

“I can make you feel better.” He looked down at you and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“How do you mean?” You could hear the apprehension in your voice. He ignored your question and reached down to the hem of your top, lifting it slightly. 

You pulled back a little too quickly and you got a bit dizzy. “I don’t know about that Dr. Crane. I can’t- I’m not well.”

He ignored you. “I think it’ll be easier if I just take you here on the floor.” 

He dragged you off the couch and onto the ground, sitting up. The hardwood was cold to the touch but started to warm under your body. He kneeled next to you. You tried to fight him as he reached for your sweater. He grabbed your wrists to stop you from thrashing around. 

“I would hate to have to tie you up, sweetheart.” You knew he would follow through so you did what he wanted. You stopped fighting back.

He neatly folded and put aside each article of clothing he took off your body. Eventually, you were completely bare in front of him. You were almost too gone to grasp what was going on. Almost. The fear began to creep in and he could tell. Maybe the medication was not working the way he intended it to. Maybe he lied about what it was intended to do. 

You slurred, “Dr. Crane, please don’t- Please don’t do this.” 

He leaned over you and you tried to push him away. He only offered a small smile and reached his hand down between your legs. You whimpered as his fingers moved lightly over your clit. You mewled at the new sensation. You gave in to the feeling and your eyes started to close. When they wouldn’t open again Jonathan lightly slapped your cheek. 

“No, no, no don’t fall asleep. I need you to stay awake for me.”, he said. 

You fought the exhaustion and watched as he used his fingers to tease you. 

He noticed you getting wetter and moved his fingers down to your entrance. He slowly stretched you with two fingers, watching your face as your mouth fell open. 

A tight-lipped smile appeared on his face. He started slow and then moved his fingers in and out very quickly, hitting a new spot until he found the one that made your legs shake. You lied back and let him work on you. All you felt was bliss. No one had ever touched you like that. 

He took his hand away and you whined. This was a first and you were glad you made it this far. This was a win. 

You thought it was over, but then you noticed him unbuttoning his pants. 

Your breath quickened and you put your hand out. “Wait! Please, no! I think I’ve had enough for today.” 

“We’re not done with your treatment yet, princess. Please hold still. It will be easier for the both of us.” 

Your body was made of putty. The side effects had gotten worse. He brought your legs into position before grabbing himself in his hand. He stroked his cock a couple of times before entering you. 

He gave you no time to adjust. His pace was slow but he fucked hard. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you. You’ve never been fucked like this before. But, that didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was to feel you around him. Make you his. 

The sounds in the room sent you reeling. You didn’t know you would moan so much. The sound of his skin hitting yours filled the room along with his heavy breaths and moans. He grabbed your hips as he thrust hard and fast. You were having a hard time coping with all the feelings you were having at once. The fear, exhaustion, and pleasure were beginning to mix. You wanted to scream. Instead, you cried. 

Jonathan moaned at the sight. He loved watching you cry. He’d seen it happen during sessions and couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if you moaned while you cried. Now he knew. You were unable to keep quiet. Silent cries became sobs which became whimpers. 

He caressed your tear-stained face, “Shhhhhh, hush now it’s alright. You’re doing so well.”

You tried to talk through your tears. “Please Jonathan- Dr. Crane, Make it stop!”

This time he went deeper. You yelped as you felt him hit a new part of you. “I’m not stopping until you tell me it feels good. Tell me, does it feel good?”

“Yes,” you moaned, “it feels good.” 

“Yeah? Are you still frightened? Are you scared of me?”

“Yes.”, you admitted. It was hard for you to get out. How could you ever fear him? All he had ever done was help you. This was just another one of his unorthodox methods. 

He bent forward and put his arms next to your ears, locking his fingers on the top of your head to hold you in place. Your body was limp as he continued fucking you into the floor. Your eyes closed; you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

He shook your head slightly. “No, eyes on me. Look at me.” 

You looked at him wide-eyed. 

“Open your mouth.” You obeyed and he spit in your mouth. In all honesty, you savored the taste. It was another way of him claiming you. 

“Swallow.” When you did he hummed contently. “Good girl.” 

You felt something weird tightening in your core. “Dr. Crane. I feel like I’m gonna-“. 

A long moan came out before you could finish your sentence. He fucked you as you rode your high and soon after his thrusts started to falter. He sat up and grabbed your hip to use as leverage. You mustered up as much energy as you could to move away from him, using your legs to drag yourself across the floor. He was much stronger than you at this point and he pulled you back. 

“No, come here. You’re gonna stay still while I finish. Got it?”

The tears kept flowing, but you obeyed. You lied back as he came inside of you. He stayed inside of you for a minute, savoring the moment. You were tired and blissed out. He pulled out of you without a word. He watched as his cum dropped out of you. 

“What a sight.”, he said matter a factly. He helped you sit up and wiped tears from your face with his thumb. He brought you close to him and kissed your forehead. 

He got up and put himself back together again. He fixed his clothing, tucking in his pristine white shirt and fastening his pants. He fixed his tie and looked past you into a mirror. 

Once satisfied, he grabbed a towel from his desk and cleaned you up. He helped you up to your feet and began dressing you. His demeanor was softer now. He took his time as he got you dressed. Once he was finished he helped you sit on the couch. You curled up into his side, seeking comfort from the man who had just used you. 

You’d never felt more confused. You knew this shouldn’t have happened. Every boundary had been crossed. But, the special attention from him felt better than anything. You fell asleep on his shoulder. He let you sleep on him for a while before he got up to write notes on what had just occurred. He found his glasses, put them on, and returned to his desk to begin writing. He included your reaction to the “medication” and how receptive you were to the treatment.

You woke up about an hour later, confused. You looked around and recognized his office. The memories of earlier events came rushing back. You felt your cheeks get hot.

Jonathan looked up from the paper he was holding up. “Rise and shine.”

He grabbed a sheet of paper from your file. He attached it to a clipboard and grabbed a pen. He handed you the materials and you looked down. It was another questionnaire. 

“Fill this out as accurately as possible.”

“What is it for?” You cleared your throat. He sat back down at his desk and picked up the paper he was previously inspecting. He looked at your file before looking back at you. 

“Our next session.”, he replied. 

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ call her daddy, ichigo kurosaki (nsfw)

inexperienced ichigo has a time with his slutty girlfriend.

thinking about giving flustered!ichigo head like. you both were sophomores in college but known each other since elementary. first grade was the year ichigo learned he had a crush on you, and for the past twelve years, it’s been hard for him to keep quiet about it.

the thing was, you were polar opposite to him. ichigo was such a…boy. he blushed fire red at the sight of any female skin showing, he screamed at any touch of you holding his hand, and he acted a fool the moment he saw you naked. you two have only been dating for a while, the poor boy finally manning up and asking you out denior year of high school.

you on the other hand, you were a girl’s girl. all you ever wore were multiple shades of pink and purple, lip gloss, always had your hair and nails done, and you were expressive in how you felt in every moment. you were the fire to ichigo’s already hot personality, and for some reason you two were like peas in a love pod.

almost three years of dating, ichigo still was nervous around you. and you couldn’t help but admit how much you loved watching him get flustered at the sight of you naked and on your knees.

“‘m i making you feel good daddy?” your voice is sweet as sultry as you lick up the young boy’s blush pink cock.

ichigo can’t even process anything going on in his head at the moment. he still didn’t know how to react whenever you called him daddy. in fact, he was sure you were the dominant one in the relationship and deserved to call you mommy (he’d actually been wanting to call you that for the past 6 months but was terrified of how you’d react).

sex was such an easy conversation for you to have. of course, you were more experienced than he was, having taken his virginity and all. you could talk about your previous sex session the night before over some pancakes and waffles for breakfast like it was the sunday news from the day before. you couldn’t help but explain to him many times why you called him that intimate name.

“me calling you daddy has nothing to do with your dominance, ichi,” you laughed with a kiss of your teeth, “i call you daddy because it’s a security thing for me. sure you’re not big and macho right now, but you make me feel safe and secure. and your dick is big so why would i not call you daddy? ichigo, boy please!”

you loved teasing your man. something about seeing the red head all flustered in your hands was all you needed to feel something between your own legs. nights like this by kehlani is playing on your speaker lowly as you take your time on ichigo. the cherry red gloss plastered on your lips disappeared long time ago and is smeared all over ichigo’s rock hard length as you continue sucking him dry.

ichigo is sat manspreading on your bed, gripping onto your pink duvet for dear life. your sanrio duck nails look so pretty against his dick leaking pure cum.

“fuck, baby,” the strawberry blonde boy breathes out. he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to last. ichigo hated when he cums fast, it makes him feel so adjuvant compared to you. he hated how you did most of the work sometimes. all he wanted was for you to feel good. but little did he know, you pleasuring him was enough to pleasure yourself.

you snake one hand down between your legs and rub your clothed clit through the extremely thin fabric of your lace panties. ichigo’s large hand is snaked across your back and rubbing at the fat of your ass in comfort as you suck on the slit of his tip, driving him over the edge.

“mhm, you like that baby?” ichigo can’t help but nod as you release up off him and lick your full lips. still pumping his oozing length up and down, you reach up to kiss him, all while working his lower half.

ichigo is a moaning mess against you as his lips sloppily engulf your own. “s-shit,” he whimpers. “oh fuck, please baby. ‘m boutta cum.”

“yeah?” you tease with a fresh smirk. “you wanna cum for me? mommy’s got you, baby.” you could see ichigo’s usually honey brown eyes completely widen at the new nickname for yourself. talk about fantasies coming alive.

with screwed eyes shut, ichigo is bucking his hip into your grip. wrestling with pleasure and reality as he fights off his incoming orgasm. sensing his retaliation, you speed up the pace of your hands.

“don’t you fucking hold back on me, ichigo,” you glare at him, jerking his reddening tip faster. you run your manicured fingers across the slit of his tip and give him a stern look, demanding his much deserved orgasm. “you fucking cum right now. cum right now, ichi.” you knew how ichigo got when he didn’t believe in himself, even when it came to sex.

the poor boy is breathing hard and intensely as he grabs onto your free hand and shoves his head in the crook of your neck. finally, he feels his orgasm releasing against your half naked body. “there you go baby,” your voice is softening as the creamy base spurting all over the place in a big mess from his chest to your nipples. “watch me, daddy.”

ichigo fights one eye open to look down at you. there, you hold your tongue out wide as you finish jerking him off, allowing the last of his warm cum to coat your mouth. you use that as lubricant to suck him off just one more time, deciding to overstimulate him a bit.

this riund of head is ten times more messy. with a mix of your saliva and ichigo’s cum practically oozing out your mouth, the only audio heard in your room is the nasty gargling sounds of you gagging on his fat cock, deepthroting the poor thing till you felt his angry head prodding at the back of your throat.

“oh, shit!”

this sends ichigo overboard as he grips onto the duvet beside him and completely bucks up into you, reaching deeper into your throat. he helps you hold your braids out the way as you stay against him for a few seconds, completely blocking your airways as you dared yourself to deepthroat him for as long as you could.

“i’m gonna cum again—fuck!” ichigo screams as he mindlessly pushes your head back down further against him. you could see the reluctance he had in his actions once he realized exactly what he’d done and was about to pull you back up, but you grab his hand and place it back on your head, forcing him to push you back down.

“i got you daddy, make a mess of me, papa.” your voice is sweet and seductive as you kiss all along his tip. you place the mushroom head of his cock back in your mouth and slowly begin cleaning up your own mess. once you were done, you came back up and proudly kissed him, allowing him to suck all his cum off the base of your tongue.

it was so easy to get him nasty like this.

[lovingperfectionsblog]

I'm Not A Spy?

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: There’s no way THE Max Verstappen got you flowers, absolutely no way. 

Warnings: Swearing, other than that, just silliness and fluff. 

Word Count: 1616

Authors note: This was literally a dream I had and I was encouraged to write it as a fic by my absolute dream of a friend @0-atmilk-latte so thank you sugar <3 I hope it’s okay. I really want to get back into writing my silly little stories so, let's try to do this. 

______

Enemy territory. 

This is where Max stood currently. Dead center in front of the Mercedes motorhome door, where everyone could see him. 

And every single person to walk through those doors sent him glares that would make sure he knew he was on enemy territory. 

He knew it was risky. Redbull merchandise adoring him. Sticking out like a sore thumb. It was a risk he was willing to take. 

“Horner send you?” Toto stepped through the doors after watching Max stand there for the past hour, “Although, I can't imagine who Horner would be giving those to?” eyes flicking between Max’s face and the bouquet of flowers he was currently white knuckling. 

“No sir, these are for your assistant.” Max tried to sound confident but even he could admit Toto was a terrifying man and this entire situation was feeling far too similar to the idea of trying to get your fathers permission to ask you on a date. 

“From?” Toto knew he was making Max squirm, but the only thing that would bring him more joy was if it were Horner himself standing in front of him instead of Max. 

“From me sir.” Max tried to stop his hands from shaking, the rustling of the leaves and flowers becoming oddly unbearable as he tried to stand his ground in front of your boss. 

“Why?” As much fun as Toto was having, he was also curious. He knew Max had been eyeing you up these past few weeks, paying more attention to you, attempting to talk to you every opportunity he could. He had even caught Max attempting to make small talk with Lewis and George, which he was now assuming was a bid at getting closer to you. At the very least attempt to make everyone around you like him in the meantime. 

“Because I was hoping to ask her to dinner sir.” Toto couldn't hide his surprise at Max’s honesty. Expecting at the very least some work around to that answer after some back and forth. 

God Max irritated him. He had no choice but to add this to the increasingly growing list of things he respected Max for and it infuriated Toto to no end. 

It didn’t mean he couldn't stress Max out in the meantime. 

“Well,” he let out a chuckle, “good luck then son.” 

“Boss, what’s the redbull scum doing on our turf?” George shouted towards Toto as he made his way towards the motorhome. 

Toto didn’t even give Max an opportunity to answer before he was shouting back, “Apparently he’s here to ask my assistant out to dinner.”

“Oh, makes sense why he’s been so nice to me and Lewis these last few weeks.” George made his way up to the entrance, joining his boss and rival, “Is this why you wanted to hang out in Monaco the other day?” 

Toto and George could only laugh at the uncontrollable blush that had made its way across Max’s face at being called out. 

And the situation was only made worse by, “Morning Boss, George,” you eyed the odd one out, cocking an eyebrow up in question, “and Max?” 

“Well then, go ahead,” was all that came from your boss in lieu of a greeting from any of them. 

And suddenly Max felt shy. All that previous bravado had clearly been used up with Toto, leaving none for the actual important interaction. 

He had to do something and soon, because you were standing there staring at him, waiting, for, well, something. 

Next second there was a bouquet thrust in your direction, gripped to near smithereens between Max’s hands. Your eyes darted between the flower and the three men in front of you, one completely avoiding eye contact, the other two doing a poor job to hide their smiles as they watched the interaction between you two. 

“What’s this for?” you refused to take the bundle from Max, unsure of what was happening. 

“You.” It was all Max could get out. 

“From?

“Me?” 

“Why?” 

“Jesus.” 

Toto barked out a laugh at the near identical conversation he and Max had just had. 

The flowers rustled in front of you as you assumed Max shook them for you to take. 

He would never admit that it was his nerves. 

You hesitantly took the flowers, eyeline switching between max and the, admittedly beautiful, bunch of flowers you were now holding. 

There was a long silence as you just stared at the flowers, eyebrows furrowing. Neither Max, Toto nor George fully understood what was going on in your mind. The silence extended so long that even Toto began to feel nervous, so he could only imagine what Max was feeling as he just stared you down just as intensely as you were staring at those flowers.  

Just as Toto reached out to nudge Max in an attempt to get him to say something to you, you began violently shaking the flowers. Petals and leaves began flying everywhere. Whole flowers landed on the floor at your feet. At least one had hit Max in the face. Toto stepped back in fear. Max shielded himself from the onslaught. By the time you were done, all that was left in your hand was one measly flower consisting of maybe four petals and a few leaves. The rest lay at your feet after your massacre. 

All three boys stared on in horror as you stood there breathless. Eyes fixed on Max like he was your prey. 

Everyone could hear the gulp from Max’s throat as he took a single step backwards. 

“You think just because I’m some girl and you’re the Max Verstappen in your fast little redbull you can treat me like some pawn in your weird little game?” you spat the words at him. 

Max desperately looked over to Toto and George for some help, but even they looked too scared to intercede on his behalf. 

“This isn’t some game, I just,” 

“You just what? Thought you could spy on my team?” you didn't even let him finish before throwing out a secondary accusation at him. 

“Spy?” George hadn’t meant to have that come out as loud as it did, but suddenly all attention was on him as he hid slightly behind Toto. 

“Obviously George. He probably put a listening device in the flowers to spy on us.” All three looked at you like you were insane, “Why else would he be giving me flowers?” 

“To ask you on a date.” The silence that followed Toto’s comment was deafening. 

“No.” It was all you could get out. 

“No to the date or no to him giving you flowers for that reason?” Totot was desperately trying to be the voice of reason here. 

“To him giving me flowers?” You’d yet to look at Max since the original accusations. 

“Why would Max be spying on us? Redbull is the fastest team on the grid?” George was emphatically nodding along with what Toto was saying, trying to get you to see that this was completely innocent. 

“I’m not a spy?” Max had finally spoken up, far too alarmed at the accusations beforehand to offer much more than this, beyond thankful to Toto for helping him explain. 

“Then what’s with the flowers?” You were sharp and blunt and Max couldn’t help but fall just that little bit more for you as he watched you defend your team. 

“To ask you on a date.” Max hesitantly pointed at Toto, showing that the original reason that was offered was correct. 

“You want to take me on a date?” Max could only nod, “and these flowers were to ask me on a date?” Another nod, smile growing as he watched your cheeks flush, “in front of my boss?” you side eyed your boss, hoping he’d take the hint to get out of there. 

“In my defense, I didn’t expect him to come talk to me, not stick around” Max’s eyes refused to leave you, a little nervous to at this point. 

“I’m not going anywhere, is it a yes or not?” Totot refused to budge, his massive presence looming over both you and Max as George peaked over his shoulder to continue watching the interaction. 

“Yes,” you watched as Max’s smile grew even wider than before, him already grabbing his phone out of his pocket so you could put your number in it for him, “as long as you promise you aren’t a spy!” you emphasized by shoving his phone, now containing your number, into his chest as a warning. 

“Not a spy. I promise,” Max stuck his pinky out, waiting for you to reciprocate, giving you the most legal of all promises, the pinky promise, “so it’s a date.” 

You nodded as you wrapped your pinky around his own, “A date.” 

After a moment Toto coughed, catching your attention and forcing you to let go of Max and straighten out your attire, “We should go, yes, we have, there’s work, yes, job, okay, bye” and with that, you had disappeared through the Mercedes motorhome doors, soon followed by Toto who clapped a hand against Max’s shoulders, muttering a “well done boy” as he followed you in to begin the day, leaving Max to stare after you as George sidled up next to him. 

The two stood in silence, Max staring at you as Toto clearly teased you about the interaction, and George stared at Max, gearing up to do some teasing of his own. 

“Never thought The Max Verstappen would be into women who scared him” 

“Shit, she’s so scary.” Max nodded along with his own statement before making George choke on his coffee with the next one, “I think I’m going to marry her.” 

[hqbaby]

thirty-one — right here

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist 

word count. 1.5k content. swearing and… it’s the last chap?

As a child, you thought that the epitome of a romantic moment was running through the rain, out of breath and completely exhausted, just to get to the one you love. 

You thought it was such a beautiful gesture, to give everything just to be with someone else. To run yourself ragged, to be entirely spent, to be on the verge of collapse just to be in their arms again.

“That’s dumb,” Suna says. “I’m driving you.”

He’s already marching out of the coffee shop before you can protest, your purse in his hand.

“Hey!” you call after him as you try your best to keep up. Damn his long legs. “What the fuck, man?”

The two of you look absolutely horrible, eyes still red from all the tears you’ve cried, cheeks all puffy, and noses still stuffed. But you’ve both calmed down, knowing deep in your hearts that this was the right thing to do. It was the only thing you could.

He tosses your purse into the passenger seat, holds the door open, and gives you a look like “Are you really going to fight me on this?”

“You’re not running to the other side of campus,” he tells you when you make another look of protest. “That’s just stupid. You’ll be dead by the time you get to Atsumu.”

You roll your eyes and begrudgingly get in the car. “You’re ruining my big romantic gesture.”

“If it makes you stop whining, I can let you out a few blocks away and you can run all you want,” he says as he gets in the driver’s seat.

“Yay,” you say, smiling widely. You look over at him, catch the matching smile on his face, and reach over the console to poke his arm. “Hey.”

He hums and looks at you. “Yeah?”

“We’ll be okay, right?”

A nod. His hand on yours. A squeeze. “We’ll be okay.”

You exhale and squeeze his hand back. “Good.”

The drive is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. The two of you are still processing things and trying to understand truths that you’ve only confronted today. There’s so much hurt and care here, so much that mixes and clashes to the point where they’ve become impossible to separate, inextricably intertwined. The love you have for one another can never exist without the pain that you’ve caused, and that’s the reality that you have to face.

As idealistic as you might want to be, you know that things between the two of you will never be the same and it will take more than just one crying session to get all your feelings out. But, then again, maybe that’s for the best.

Loving Suna meant something to you, and even with the way things turned out, you know you wouldn’t change it for the world. Because you loved someone and he loved you back, and that will always mean something. 

Maybe in another life things would have worked out. But not this one. It was never meant to work in this one.

And that’s okay.

Because you’ll be okay.

And things… they’ll be okay.

Suna lets you out of the car two blocks away, just as he promised, and you proceed to sprint to the twins’ apartment building, living out your romcom dreams. Of course, you refuse to run up the seven flights of stairs to their apartment, so you take the elevator—which isn’t so cinematic, but it gets the job done.

You knock on their door, feeling your entire body tense as you realize what you’re about to do.

Love is fucking terrifying.

The door opens.

“Y/N?” It’s Osamu with the most surprised look you’ve ever seen. “Hey! What are ya doing here?”

“I—”

The words catch in your throat.

You—what? What are you even here? After all the grief you gave him, what could you possibly do to mend things with Atsumu? What could you give him that would be acceptable in any way? Why would he want anything from you?

All the doubt settles in and you freeze. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just left him alone, let him back off the way he intended.

“Y/N?”

And there he is. Of course.

“I-I can’t believe yer here,” he says, approaching the door as Osamu ducks out of the way and heads into his room. “Are ya okay? What’s goin’ on?”

You just gape at him, words failing you completely. 

“I-I don’t… know,” you say eventually before backing away. “Sorry. I-I’m gonna go. I didn’t mean to bother you, I just—”

“What are ya talkin’ about?” Atsumu asks. As he steps into the light, you can see him more clearly. He looks weary, but there’s a smile on his face—the kind you notice he always has when you’re around. “Y/N, come on. Talk to me.”

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling a little out of place. What could you even say?

Then Suna’s words ring clear in your head. 

You do what you need to do for the people you love.

Deep breath.

“Suna told me what you did,” you say. “That you wanted to give me the choice.”

He shakes his head. “I-I was just doin’ what I should’ve done. It’s nothin’.”

You can’t help the fond smile that makes its way to your face. “It’s not nothing,” you tell him. “It was… everything.”

Atsumu sighs. “I didn’t do that so I would… win, or anythin’ like that,” he says. “I just want ya to be happy. Whatever that might mean. And I know that’s sounds so fuckin’ cliché,” he chuckles, “but I mean it.”

His eyes on you don’t burn, don’t make you want to shrink away, to disappear. They’re warm and comforting… and right. Like they belong.

And you can’t help but feel so loved and so terrified all at once.

And you know you have to tell him.

You know he needs to know.

“I love Suna,” you say, powering through even when you notice how Atsumu’s face falls slightly despite his attempts to hide it. “I love him in the same way I’ll love Tooru even when we’re old and gray and useless.” You see Atsumu’s eyes soften. “I love him in the same way I’ll always love Kiyoko even when she marries Tanaka and has annoying children with him.” He steps forward. “I love him in the same way I will always love going on walks in the middle of the night even when I know I shouldn’t.” He places a hand on your shoulder. “I love him in the same way I will always love everything that I loved when I was sixteen. The same way I’ll always love driving without hitting a red light. The same way I’ll always love Osamu’s cooking.”

The two of you look at each other and it feels like nothing else matters.

This is right.

This is just right.

“I love Suna—but I love you in the way I can only ever love you,” you tell him. “In a way that makes me feel safe. That makes me feel happy. That makes me feel like I can do anything at all. That makes me feel like I’m a good person, or at least that I can try to be one.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you can see his eyes so clearly, can look at every little fleck of color, every little imperfection, and every little piece of him. And you know this is right. This is the only thing that is right.

You breathe shakily. “I don’t know if I deserve you,” you say. “But I love you. And I would do anything for you. Because you’re so good and you’re so right. And I’m sorry. And I can’t promise that I won’t ever hurt you again, but I will try. I will try so hard that you won’t even know what hit you.”

You both chuckle and you relax into his hold. “I love what we have, and if I have the choice, I choose what’s right here,” you tell him. “I choose this. I choose us.”

Atsumu cups your cheek and smiles. “Are ya sure?”

You laugh. “Are you?”

He leans forward and catches your lips in a kiss. It feels just like it did the first time and just like it did the last time and just like it did all the other times in between.

It’s Atsumu and you. The way you’ve always been.

When you part, he wraps you up in his arms and holds you tight.

“I love ya so much,” he tells you quietly. “I would give ya the world if I could.”

You embrace him back. “Not if I give it to you first.”

There, in Atsumu’s arms, you can feel the weight of everything you’ve carried fall on your shoulders—not like a boulder but like a friend with their hands keeping you grounded, keeping you from drifting away. You carry all the love you’ve given and all the love you’ve received, everything you’ve done and everything you’re yet to do. You carry the moment, this piece of time where everything is right. Everything is as it should be.

And you know that nothing is certain. That you and Atsumu will grow, that time will do its thing, and maybe things will change eventually. And maybe they won’t. 

Right now, you don’t know much. All you know is that this right here, this is where all the roads have led you, this is where all the paths have crossed.

This right here is the collection of everything you are and where you’re meant to be. This is safety, this is comfort, and this is peace—for now at least. But isn’t that the best that anyone could ever ask for?

notes. AAAAAANNNNNDDDD IT’S DONE!!!! i'm gonna miss my messy babies. i like to think that they all go on with their lives and they all get to be happy, but, like most things, this isn’t i get to know. and i’m alright with that.

sharing this story with all was a ride that i’ve loved every step of the way. anyway, ‘til next time loves <3

[kquil]

POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS ⏤IMPRESSIONS

SUM. : their impressions of you after that first day

G. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james ; tattoo artist sirius ; piercer remus ; oblivious, innocent reader ; very much the marauders pov ; they're smitting with reader ; instant connection ; marauders inner thoughts

SET. : a little after chapter 1 and during chapter 2

LENGTH : 1.3k

After that terrifying night, they couldn’t get you out of their heads.

“I really hope she’s okay,” James sighs, running his fingers through his already untamed curls and messing them further.

“She was shaking like an autumn leaf,” Sirius clicks his tongue, his expression souring as he thinks back to the drunk bastard that dared to attempt something so horrific on you, “disgusting lowlife…” the tattooist didn’t even realise he had been clenching his hands into fists until Remus’s much larger hands took a hold of them. 

“She’s safe and sound at home,” the tall brunette forces a half decent smile, “at least she’s okay now,” his reasoning did little to help and Remus knew it because he couldn’t even convince himself of the sentiment. 

That night, sleep was hard to find. 

Like an answer from the gods, you were once again before them but no longer shaking in fear. You were happy, pretty as a flower in full bloom and smiling sweetly, the picture of a warm spring day. They largely shrugged off their actions last night, not feeling too heroic if it weren’t for your dedication to thanking them by cooking a delicious meal. 

Remus found you captivating. Not a single piercing in sight, such wasted potential for the additional accessory but still so beautiful and radiant without it; there’s no need to puncture your unsullied skin. The morning sun looks good on you, a much preferred contrast to the pale moon from the previous night of terror. Your features are clear and easy to appreciate, something Remus was grateful for. 

He wants to ask for your well being, his heart aching for your welfare and his mind begging for certitude. However, his anger was what commanded priority as the fateful night’s aggressor made a momentary glimpse in his mind’s eye and his biting tone triumphs bitterly. 

“It’s alright, don’t worry, I told my manager and he’s been banned from the pub I work at so I haven’t had any more bad encounters,” your sweet voice broke through his wrath and eased the tension from his shoulders. Your demure disposition was like sweet, creamy chocolate to his eyes —delectable. You look precious and his heart wavers with a familiar feeling. 

Interesting…the brunette thinks to himself, the feeling and notion intensifying when Sirius enters the scene and regales you with more flamboyance than he typically would any other woman. It reminds him of the days the leather-clad tattooist was notorious for sleeping around before finally finding a permanent romance with his coworkers and long time friends. 

As Sirius leads you away, he and Remus make eye contact. It’s brief but a spark, something electric and intimate flickers between them over the curve of your shoulder. Sirius smirks and Remus covers his grinning mouth. 

He feels it too, they both surmise, fingers tingling from the fever crawling up their spines, readying to devour them in the feeling.

Sirius feels the fondness warming his chest significantly amplify when alone with you. There’s something kittenish about your mannerisms that catches his eye. It pulls him in like an invisible red string snaring his heart. Not only that but you made for quite the view —with a beauty unique to you but was so enchanting and fit for your character only. It wasn’t a spell you cast on him without his knowing, however; he willingly asked you to subjugate him the instant he met your eyes that morning. There’s an urge that rises from the pit of his stomach to hold you close the same way he embraced you the previous night and turned you away from your aggressor. He was a shield for you then; he wants to be a shield for you now. But more…intimate.

Keep your hands to yourself Sirius, the tattooist warns himself, imagining Remus in the room staring him down with incisive eyes. To control his jerking fingers, he lifts his arms and drapes them across the back of the sofa, where they grip onto the leather like his life depended on it. 

Thankfully, you provided the perfect excuse for distraction and Sirius talked you through the many tattoos you had grown a darling curiosity over. That simple aspect about you is so lovable, it’s hard to look away from your changing expressions. With your pretty eyes, fluttering lashes and sweet lips, you continually tug at the string holding Sirius’s heart captive, as if to say ‘come closer, I want you beside me,’. 

I hope they’ll understand…Sirius pleads to a god he didn’t previously believe in, they have to understand that, for her, these feelings are predestined —it won’t feel right just to let the feelings, let her, go. 

“You’ll feel it too James,” Remus chuckles softly but deeply, one arm slung over the tattooist’s shoulders as he whispers his speculations into his ear, “she wears a sweet poison for perfume, I swear,” 

“I still can’t get over the fact that she’s cooked us lunch,” James grins widely, “that in and of itself is enough to win over my heart,” they share a short laugh before finally stepping into the room that you and Sirius were in, swinging open the door as they do so. 

James was at a loss. It was a joke at first. Both Remus and Sirius knew his love for food but having you feed him so attentively with the cutest smile on your face and those sweet sweet eyes looking up at him, James was tempted to push aside the food and eat you up instead. If it weren’t for Remus silently urging for his self-restraint — warm, brown eyes, now a sharp, cool blade of warning — James could have very well lost himself in the feeling and done something stupid to sabotage all their chances. He was a clown at times but not without a brain.  

For a brief moment, James shares a look with Sirius. Out of all three, Sirius had the reputation of being the most impulsive with James coming straight after him and Remus trailing not too far behind, although was the one who could hide it the most effectively. There’s a roguish sparkle in Sirius’s grey pools but, like Remus, his gaze became a sharp tool of admonition, which was rare for the leather-clad tattooist.

It’s a miracle…James laughs to himself but succumbs to his desires somewhat, kissing your cheek under the guise of gratitude. 

“You’re too kind, angel, thank you,” James can feel the warmth radiating from your cheeks due to the proximity and has to bite his lip from grinning too much. From his peripheral view, he can ascertain a small degree of envy glimmering behind the eyes of his two lovers but it isn’t enough to overwhelm the fascination and virtuous adoration they've developed so naturally for you.  

I probably look the same way, James resists the urge to shake his head, I can’t believe we’re about to do this all over again…

“Do you think this is too much, Remus?” Sirius asks in a low whisper, leaning over the seated brunette after readying the printer. 

“No matter what I say, you wouldn’t care, so why bother,” they share a chuckle but smile at their mutually growing feelings for you, “it’s temporary anyway…the same way this growing crush will be. But in the sense that it’ll become something more one day,”

“You feel it too then?” There's a feverishness behind Sirius’s words —it’s something contagious. 

“So much so that I’d die if she leaves without this tattoo on her…even if it is only temporary,” the two take their time signing their names carefully before getting James to sign his. 

It was true. All three men would die if they didn’t take the opportunity to sign their name over your heart the same way you’ve already done for them. The ink you used was invisible but scorched their skin so deeply, it was impossible to even think about erasing. Their ink would only be temporary but they’ll strive to make it an eternal one. No matter how long and no matter what it takes, they’ll make it a reality.

All three are a man of their word.  

A/N : so....this isn't a request nor is it a planned post but it is dedicated to one of my favourite readers of this series - i really shouldn't say that because you darlings are all sweethearts and i love all of you but they just get so excited for this series and from their comments, i know we're on the same wavelength for what we want to see happen in this au. @diputy , this is for you, darling, i hope you enjoy the read, everyone else too, but you especially!

NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS SERIES

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[invaderzia1]

I wanted to make this a full fic but I just can’t so here’s the Drabble

Gale was used to your teasing, you sitting in his tent, trying your best to rile him up with all your dirtiest thoughts. Most of the time, you would have the older man quite flustered, completely at your mercy to kiss and touch. It's not like Gale didn't like this, he was more than happy to let you, it was just not what he expected to happen when you started traveling together.

You lips brush against the shell of his ear, whispering to him how badly you wanted him this night. He could feel your hand rest on his thigh, slowly inching up then retreating back down toward his knee.

Instead, Gale felt a surge of confidence from your actions. His hand catches yours and firmly presses it against his bulge, not hard but firm enough to keep your there.

" thought you wiser than to poke a sleeping dragon. I ought to show you the consequences of your teasing tonight.?

It's the first time he's spoken to you like this and all your teasing suddenly leaves as your mind grows blank. It's as if any thought or retort you had had been snuffed out, extinguishes just by Gale's words. It's quiet for longer than Gale or you expect it to be.

Gale turns to look at you, terrified that he overstepped. All those negative emotions begin to seep in as he sees you, wide eyed with a bright blush covering your face, terrified he might've been too much and scared you away. Internally, he panics wanting nothing more than to run away, decide that maybe letting the absolute turn him into some mindflayer and hope the party will kill him is the best option.

That is until he feels his tadpole squirm inside his head, connecting to yours as you look at him.

Instead of feeling any negative emotions from you, he feels lust. Deep, carnal lust, mixed with the feeling of submissiveness and vulnerability.

His eyes widened in understanding, gaining some of his previous confidence back as he realize why you clammed up. No, he hadn't weirded you out, he hit the target dead on.

Your mask had slipped, completely off as you buried your face into the crook of Gale's neck. No longer did you hold the control, but Gale did. But it didn't feel weird, it felt right.

"Oh, I think you'd like that, Wouldn't you?"

He doesn't receive a verbal acknowledgement, but your head happily nods. It's cute, seeing the tough leader of this party get all submissive for him, at a complete loss for words as he tells them all the things he wants to do.

His hand encourages you to sit on his lap, which you happily follow, letting yourself do. Then he starts to pull your pants below your knees, giving himself enough room to wedge his hand in between your thighs. Softly, he starts to rub circles against your clit.

From just outside the tent, you can hear your companions who are still awake having some banter. Still gathered by the campfire as they finish the rest of their meals, Karlach loudly recounting her time serving in the hells. Gale brings his free hand up to gesture for you to stay silent and you nod.

Without warning, Gales finger slide their way inside, finding no resistance as your slick welcomes him. You have no time to brace yourself as a strangled gasp goes past your lips, louder than you would've liked it to be. A mix of embarrassment and lust over take you as you try bite back all the pleased noises you begin to make as Gale slowly works his fingers in and out of you.

Slowly you feel your inhibitions slip, as the pleasure grows. Your voice no longer staying as quiet as it needed to be. His fingers find a nice pace as you start to grind against them, feeling your orgasm start to build up.

This time, Gale does not warn you of your volume, instead his other hand reaches up to cover your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping.

"Now, I do think I told you to stay quiet. Wouldn't want our companions to overhear you." He whispers into your ear sternly. Something about the tone in his voice makes your eyes roll back in your head, grinding up into his hand.

[flanaganfilm]

Hey, Mike! Did moving to Los Angeles at the start of your career turn out to be all that you thought it would be? It’s a big step that a lot of people take, and I’ve never really heard you talk about those early years before. Did you ever contemplate quitting? And if so, I’m glad you stuck to it - we love your work!

Oh, I contemplated quitting many, many times.

I moved to Los Angeles in January, 2003. I had just graduated the previous summer from Towson University, and a group of five of us moved out together. Some wanted to be filmmakers, some wanted to be actors. We shared a 3-bedroom apartment in Glendale. The adjacent apartment was occupied by four other Towson alums. Between the two apartments, we called it "Little Towson." I didn't own a car at the start. I had no health insurance. I'd saved a few thousand dollars to get me through the first six months, but none of us had jobs at the beginning. I remember applying (and being rejected) for a job at Walmart. I combed Craigslist looking for non-union editorial gigs.

I had told myself I'd give it five years, and if I hadn't gotten any traction, I'd move back to Maryland.

People started dropping out pretty quickly. One of my roommates (and one of my best friends) had moved out here to be an actor, and only lasted a few months before he decided to go back. It's overwhelming and terrifying to take a leap into a city as expensive as LA, and you're surrounded by people who all want the same career that you want. But it feels like there is a thousand foot wall circling the industry, and it seems impossible to scale it.

I found work doing odd editorial jobs before working as a logger, than an assistant editor, then an editor on a few reality shows. I shot and cut those local car commercials you see on late night cable. And I frequently ran out of money and overdrafted my account. As more and more of our original group gave up and moved back East, I started to feel more and more crazy. A lot of my friends from school were getting married, buying houses, having kids. I felt pretty delusional as my 5-year deadline came and went, and I still hadn't found any way over or through that wall. When we started to talk about making Absentia in 2010, I had been in LA for more than 7 years. I was working two jobs as an editor. I found out I was going to be a father. It felt very much like whatever I'd wanted to happen by moving to LA was not going to happen. Absentia was kind of last-ditch effort. Ultimately, the five year plan I'd allowed myself when I moved to LA turned into a 9-year plan. I started shooting Oculus - my first "real" movie - in the fall of 2012, just shy of my 10th anniversary in Los Angeles. That movie wouldn't come out for a while after that, so by the time I actually had a career as a filmmaker, well over a decade had passed struggling in LA.

For most of that time, my refusal to move back to Maryland looked (and felt) like a delusion. Only afterward did it start to look like "tenacity." And it never felt like "persistence" or "determination"... it felt insane. It felt like constant, daily frustration and rejection. And when I couldn't pay the bills, or couldn't land a job, it felt downright embarrassing.

For what it's worth, the only difference I've seen between people who "make it" out here and don't are that the ones who made it all stayed long past their expiration dates. I've seen wildly talented people pack it up and head home. Talent helps a lot once the door is open, but really the only thing that opens the door is persistence. To the point of feeling insane.

[delicatebarness]

the manuscript | chapter three

Summary: And, what about older men?

Warnings: Age Gap. (Dr Barnes: late 40s & Reader: early 20s)

Word Count: 1426

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A/N: Dick me dead, and bury me pregnant. Here is the link to the assignment mentioned in this chapter.- Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @mostlymarvelgirl | @mrsnikstan | @angelbabyyy99 | @kaithesimps-blog

The words of your assignment were still vivid in your mind as you hit ‘send’ on your email to Dr. Barnes. Laying your emotions out bare felt exhilarating, though terrifying. Something real, something raw had finally been tapped: The story of a young woman longing for the depth and experience of an older man, a mirror of your recent desires, and newfound feelings about unfulfilled connections with men your age.

Your thoughts had regularly returned to your meeting with Dr. Barnes, and the magnetic pull toward him– His intoxicating presence, full of authority and warmth that left you yearning. The way he leaned in, husky whispering, shivers shooting down your spine. You knew it was more than an academic connection, an unspoken attraction. 

While packing your bag after Psychology class, your phone buzzed with a new email notification. Your heart pounded as you unlocked the preview, Dr. Barnes had responded to your work. 

“Miss Spector, 

Your submission is captivating and shows significant growth. The raw honesty and ability to show vulnerability in your writing are truly commendable. I want to discuss your work further and help you delve further into these themes. Meet me in my office tomorrow at 3 PM.

I’m looking forward to our conversation, 

Dr. Barnes.” 

The prospect of another intimate encounter with Dr. Barnes caused a thrill of excitement and anxiety to course through you. His words penetrated your defenses, in both person and writing, reaching down to your core. Rereading the email, you could almost hear his deep, resonant voice, laced with praise. 

Zipping up your bag, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Slowly, you turned to become face-to-face with Wanda and MJ, two of your closest friends. They were both wearing mischievous smiles, curiosity twinkling in their eyes. 

“Hey, what’s got you grinning like The Cheshire Cat,” MJ teased, playfully nudging you. 

Wanda’s eyebrows raised suggestively as she joined in on the interrogation. “Yeah, spill, Spector! Pete up to his old tricks again?” 

Trying to find the right words, you chuckled nervously. “Oh, you two,” you jokingly rolled your eyes at them. “Nothing scandalous, just a text, I promise.” 

Your friends weren’t so easily convinced. Exchanging knowing glances as MJ leaned in closer, her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, we’ve known each other for years. You can’t fool us that easy…”

Struggling to come up with an explanation, a blush crept up your cheeks. You tried to laugh off their teasing just as a familiar voice interrupted from behind. 

“Everything alright here, ladies?” Professor Wilson’s voice boomed across the empty lecture hall. Your heart skipped a beat, feeling the embarrassment heat your cheeks. You wondered how much of the conversation he had overheard.

Exchanging surprised glances, Wanda and Mj quickly composed themselves. Their once playful expressions shifted to innocent ones. 

“Oh… just chatting about our plans for the evening, Professor,” Wanda replied with a smile and casual tone. 

He nodded, leaving his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. As he returned to his desk, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on. 

Regaining your composure, you exchanged a relieved glance at Wanda and MJ, silently agreeing to table the conversation. Walking out of the hall, the weight of Dr. Barnes’ email hung heavy in your mind. Something had shifted, not only were you feeling the anticipation of the upcoming meeting with him, but you realized that your feelings for him ran deeper than you had allowed yourself to admit. 

Lost in your trace, you rounded a corner colliding with a solid figure. You stumbled back, slightly startled, however you felt a strong hand steadying you. Your heart began to race as you looked up, meeting the gaze of none other than Dr. Barnes himself. 

“Ah, Miss Spector,” he greeted, a smile beginning to play on his lips. His touch lingered against your skin, sending a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a subtle yet undeniable spark. 

“Dr. Barnes…” you trailed, trying to steady your racing heart. You heard the sniggering of Wanda and MJ as they watched in surprise and amusement. 

“My apologies,” Dr. Barnes said, his gaze dropping to your lips for a moment before returning to meet yours. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much.” 

Shaking your head, you felt a flush creep up to your cheeks. “No, not at all. It’s… I, un, I’m looking forward to our discussion tomorrow.” 

Your friends shared another glance at each other, a smirk tugging at their lips. They sensed your embarrassment, giggling and teasing you for being clumsy and oblivious. You shot them a quick warning look.

Dr. Barnes observed the interaction between you and your friends, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied, his voice smooth. “I have no donut it will be a… fruitful conversation.” His voice was laced with a subtle undertone of invitation, a promise of something more lingering. 

You nodded, feeling a rush of heat spreading through you at his proximity. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With one last glance into his piercing blue eyes, you excused yourself and followed your friends out of the building. 

As you walked away, Wanda and MJ’s laughter filled the air, you couldn’t resist another glance back inside the building. Standing in the same spot, was Dr. Barnes, his gaze fixed on you intensely. 

Time stood still as you locked eyes, a silent exchange passing between you. You had never experienced a connection like this before. 

You tore your gaze away at the sound of your name being called, joining your friends. But, Dr. Barnes’ stayed with you. 

~

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes studying you causing your pulse to quicken. “I’ve read your submission. It’s compelling and honest. You’ve done well, tapping into your fears… and desires.” 

Your palms warmed under his praise, and the thudding of your heartbeat drummed in your ears. “Thank you, Dr. Barnes. I tried to be as truthful as possible.” 

Nodding in agreement, he rested his chin against his fist. “That’s evident. Your exploration of the longing for an older man, their depth and experience was particularly poignant.” He paused, noticing you fidget with your fingers under his intense gaze. “Tell me, do you believe younger men are truly incapable of providing the satisfaction you seek?”

The question cut close to your personal life causing you to hesitate while searching for the right words. “I think… it’s not their age, but… their lack of understanding. They don’t seem to see beyond the physical.” 

“And, what about older men?” he pressed, shifting in his seat, leaning forward against his desk. “Do you think they inherently possess the ability to satisfy a woman on a deeper level?” 

“I think they have more life experience,” you replied carefully. “They tend to have more patience, more attuned to a woman’s needs.” 

The room seemed to close in around you as his eyes bore into yours. “Experience does bring a certain depth,” he murmured, his voice becoming lower, more intimate. “But, regardless of age, emotional connection and mutual understanding are paramount.” 

You nodded. “I agree. It’s about finding someone who truly sees and understands you.”

He smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile played on his lips, sending a heat to your core. His gaze pierced through layers of your defenses, you felt both exposed and exhilarated. “And how about you, Miss Spector? Do you feel seen?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, the pressure building up inside you making it hard to form words. “I… I think I’m beginning to.” 

His smile deepened, eyes gleaming with something darker. “Good,” he said, in a whisper. “It’s a rare and precious thing, true understanding… true connection. Keep exploring them, Miss Spector.” 

“Thank you, Dr. Barnes, I will,” you replied, your voice betraying you.

His eyes never left yours as he leaned back in his chair. The added sense of space allowed you to breathe, yet the electrifying connection between you was maintained. 

“I look forward to seeing where your explorations take you,” he continued, encouraging with a hint of command. “This is just the beginning, our journey together is only starting, and I’m here to guide you through it.” 

His eyes followed your every move as you stood to leave. “Until next time,” he said, glancing back at him, a hint of a smile played on his lips. 

“Until next time,” you echoed as you stepped out of his office and into the library.

---

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