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animasola86 · 10 months ago

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Come back to bed, baby!

Notes: This is a continuation of It is that time again, darling - set about a year later.

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut // Words: 10.1k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: Dad!Seb is back and he actually managed to put his breeding kink to good use. Or did he?

WARNINGS: NSFW! MDNI! Vague mentions of pregnancy, birth and undefined postnatal aches (bedridden reader). Angst and guilt and PTSD. Dirty talk and marital sex (including oral and vaginal sex and a special breeding kink)! Also babies and breastfeeding. Proceed at your own risk!

Come back to bed, baby.

“Come back to bed,” you whisper with a sigh as you look from your finally sleeping twin babies to the man pacing the little room. Sebastian slips his hand through his already messy hair and messes it up even more, a concentrated, serious expression contorting his handsome features.

He throws you a slightly pained look and exhales loudly. “It's not going to work,” he mutters under his breath, furrowing his brows, now pushing both hands through his hair.

“Sebastian,” you whisper and beckon him closer, your arms outstretched as you shift on the bed. Your babies lie in their crib next to you, breathing deep and peacefully, completely oblivious to their anxious father.

He finally listens to you and sits on the edge of the bed, gently grabbing your extended hand and cradling it between his long fingers carefully. You share a deep gaze, a soft unspoken understanding of your situation.

When the twins were born about two months ago, it hasn't been easy on you, and you were forced to spend your days in bed ever since until your body would finally fully recover.

Even though the birth of Beatrice and Bernie (you luckily could convince your eager husband to drop the name Bartholomew before your baby boy was born) has brought two new joys into his troubled life, he has been conflicted ever since because despite having birthed him a pair of twins before, this time it has really taken a toll on you – and in typical Sebastian fashion, he blamed himself for putting those children into you in the first place.

Fortunately it wasn't as bad that you had to stay in St. Mungo's, but being at home, bedridden, only able to nurture your newborns while you were barely able to look after Benjamin, Archie and Anne, hasn't been easy on either of you. And on top of that, your combined money resources started to dwindle now that your firstborns were to attend Hogwarts in a few months.

Sebastian has taken two leaves from his job as Professor for Magical Theory since the two of you had decided to try for another child: one to spend entire weeks holed up with you in bed, using every waking minute to successfully fill you with his seed, and one right before you had given birth to your new twins, which has been prolonged due to the unfortunate circumstances of their birth and what it had done to your body.

But the most unfortunate thing about it all was the fact that Headmaster Black refused to properly pay him for his absence, despite his eager attempts to somehow work from home and still try to teach his students – and not even Professor Weasley had been able to convince the stubborn man to change his mind: if Sebastian wasn't able to teach and be present while doing so, he was not going to get paid, end of story.

You usually didn't need much money. Living in Aranshire, you had a loving community around you, always willing to help, be it with babysitting or providing you with food, yet the last winter had been rough on your little hamlet, and your own little garden had suffered greatly, despite all your attempts to save it with magic.

The biggest issue were the needed supplies Benjamin and Archie were to bring to Hogwarts, and even the second-hand options didn't come cheap. Yet you never despaired, even though Sebastian became more worried by the hour, the lines on his forehead deepening every day.

“We'll manage,” you whisper as you squeeze his hand lightly, tugging at it to tell him to come closer. He complies and climbs into bed with you, carefully settling his long body next to yours to not hurt you more.

You've told him a lot of times that you weren't hurting (too much) and that you needed him to cuddle you properly, but he has become a little wary whenever you would wince slightly and let out a groan. You've tried to be brave for him, but he quickly saw through your charades. You were never able to hide anything from him.

He inhales deeply and nestles beside you, his head resting on your shoulder as he gently wraps one arm around your body and pulls you against him, his touches so much more careful than you were used to.

You can barely remember the times when he would just grab you by the waist and drag you towards him, or when he held you by the hips, his fingers bruising your skin, while he would pound into you relentlessly. You even missed the spanking and choking you used to let him indulge in whenever he convinced you to by looking at you out of those damn puppy dog eyes. By Merlin, you missed seeing the mischievous spark inside his warm brown eyes the most.

It wasn't that you didn't have sex any more. Even during your pregnancy you couldn't stay away from each other for long, always needing the other close, very close even, but the bigger and rounder you got, the more careful he became until he barely dared touching you at all, afraid to hurt you or your precious cargo. And after your body failed to recover from the strain of carrying and birthing two very proper children, he downright refused to put you in harm's way, especially if it was him who might cause you said harm.

Over the last weeks you were able to convince him that you felt better, and indeed you did, even though you still felt weak whenever you had to leave your bed – which was to expected from lying there all day and all night, you told him. Of course you knew why he was so concerned, and it pained you more to have him go through the anxiety of seeing a loved one struggling than it pained you to breathe properly.

You raise a hand and try to flatten his messy locks before you give up and simply stroke his head. He breathes deeply against you as if the weight of the world would be on his broad shoulders. It certainly feels like it to him, no matter how often you'd tell him that you will be fine, that everything will be fine again.

“I could get a job,” you say after a long moment of listening to his and your babies' soft breathing, the warmth of his body comforting you, almost drowning out your worries.

He shakes his head instantly. “No, you have to focus on getting better again,” he mumbles into your chest, his hand moving up and down your arm. “I'll find a way to get paid again. There has to be a way! Just because I decided to stay home after my babies' birth... it's not fair... what horrible times we live in...” he continues, mumbling against you, his hot breath grazing your skin where your nightgown has slipped down slightly.

“I could knit or... weave or whatever else these ladies here do,” you say, ignoring his objections. “Or I can learn to make things knit themselves, and then we could sell what I made...”

He scoffs lightly, the sound a rare one these days. “No offence, darling, but you really aren't particularly dexterous when it comes to making things. No one wants to buy a pair of mismatched socks fit for a troll or a house-elf, not even house-elves would want to be given that...”

“I'm sure there's a market for it!” you say with mock-indignation before you laugh softly, the motion causing a deep rooted pain to jerk through your lower body. He notices your wince before you do and quickly leans up to place a warm hand on your stomach, looking at you with more worry lines etched into his face.

“You need to get healthy again first,” he whispers, almost pleadingly as he brings his face closer to yours, your noses touching as you feel his hot breath on your lips. “I need you to get healthy again.”

You inhale deeply and gently grab his chin, rubbing your thumb over the stubble that has gotten more over the last weeks. “I'm fine,” you tell him and close the distance between the two of you when you press your lips to his, savouring those sweet little moments where you can feel him close to you, each kiss reminding you of all those years you spent with each other, all the hardships you conquered, all the nights (and days) you had become one when your bodies moulded together in perfect harmony.

He leans back slightly, his lips ghosting yours as his dark eyes bore into your own. “Don't lie to me,” he says quietly, with a hard edge to his usually soft voice.

You hold his gaze. “I will be fine,” you correct yourself and pull his face to yours once more, needing to kiss him and forget about the aches of your body. He exhales loudly against you, but then shifts beside you and gently cups your face with his big hands as he kisses you back softly, still watching you closely out of half-lidded eyes.

You lean into his touch and close your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his warm lips, his even warmer tongue as he slips it into your mouth, and his hot breath that always made you feel light-headed. Your fingers scrape over his stubble, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine as a quiet moan escapes your throat.

He leans back at the sound and your eyelids flutter open as you look at him with your lips tingling. There it is, the fire burning in his eyes, the desire to coax even more noises out of you. Despite not being able to touch you properly, he never fails to let you know how much he wants you, how much he adores you and cherishes you and desires you.

How much he wants to ravish and devour you if only he could.

You see him looking towards the crib where your babies still sleep peacefully. It had taken you three children to finally get the hang of how to properly make a baby fall asleep, though it certainly helped that Beatrice and Bernie seemed to be connected even after having shared the same womb. You sometimes find them lying together holding each other's tiny hands, and the sight always brings tears of joy into your eyes, making you forget everything else their birth brought upon you.

Sebastian's eyes linger on them for a moment longer, before he looks back at you, the fire still burning in his brown irises. And then a smirk grazes his lips, and you stare at it longer than you should, savouring the rare sight.

You are tempted to pull him back for another kiss, but then he gently cradles your head and makes you lie down again before he cuddles close to you, pulling your body half-way onto his as he presses his front against your rear. You shift against him, turning your head towards him. His arms are around you as he brings his face close to your ear, his breath ghosting your skin.

“Do you think they can hear us?” he whispers softly, the low timbre of his voice vibrating through your very core, coaxing a soft whimper out of you.

You shake your head, knowing that a troll could storm your house and your twins would still sleep through it. They'd only wake when they would be hungry, and luckily they had a set schedule, giving you a few more hours of peace, though the same couldn't be said about your breasts if you've read the look in your husband's eyes correctly.

As if willing your suspicions to life, you feel his hands moving under the hem of your nightgown, confidently sliding over your stomach and up to your plump mounds. His big hands barely fit around them any more, but it doesn't stop him from giving them the proper care they need. You lean against him and inhale deeply, licking your lips as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples carefully.

Despite his no-sex policy and giving extra care to not put a strain on your body, he still sneaks in the occasional grope as his slight obsession with your breasts never left his lust-filled mind. He adored them when you were a teenager with not enough flesh to fill out any proper dress, and he adored them more and more with every child you've given him and every gram of extra fat those same children have gifted you.

And you learned to crave his careful touches, the tender and the rough ones, even though the latter have become so scarce. With his arms snaked around your body, he fondles your soft flesh gently, rubbing his palms over it and rolling your sensitive buds between his fingers until they are hard and almost leaking. You take a shuddering breath as he leans his forehead against your ear and presses his lips to your neck, his tongue gliding over your pulse until he hums softly when he can feel your rapid heartbeat vibrating against him.

“Imagine,” he says quietly between kissing and licking your neck, while he keeps massaging your breasts with careful fingers, “the things we could do... with Ben and Archie in Hogwarts, and Anne with Edgar, and the twins sleeping peacefully...”

A soft moan escapes you. “I do that, every day,” you confess just as quietly. “It keeps me sane while I lie here... waiting to get better... waiting for you to push me into the bed again, bury me under your body as you bury yourself into me...”

He exhales loudly against you, the grip of his hands getting a little firmer as he grazes his teeth over your pulse. You shiver. “You mean when I bury my cock into your pussy,” he repeats with a dark chuckle. “You've gone soft on me over the last months. Where's that dirty mouth of yours?”

You give him a tiny smirk. “I have innocent babies around me all the time, I don't want their first word to be something like... that...”

He snickers against you. “Come on, these are British kids, they'll learn to talk like that soon enough anyway. They'll say cunt as if they'd be talking about the weather... Don't worry about them.”

You roll your eyes, inhaling deeply to push your chest into his hands as he's stopped groping you for a moment. “So what are you imagining while you lie next to me, unable to do the things you want to do?” you whisper as you turn your head to him, meeting his heated gaze.

He resumes his fondling, pinching your hard nipples almost a little too rough now. You take a sharp breath, and he stops for a second, but then continues nonetheless, seeing the blissful spark in your eyes.

“Oh, so many things... most of all I want to see you come undone in front of me, I want your eyes to roll back and your lips to part for those soft noises to come out and your face to contort in nothing but pure ecstasy. I want to see your body convulsing in pleasure after I rub you or finger you or lick you or fuck you...” He sighs and closes his eyes for a second, surely picturing the things he's just told you.

You let out a soft whimper. “I'd love to feel weightless again,” you then admit. “Floating so high it will rival any broom flight. I want to feel you twitching inside me, your hips jerking against me as you push so deep you'd prod my womb, and I want you to fill –”

He stills his movements and exhales almost angrily. Your eyes flutter open as you watch him with a frown. “No,” he says quietly and stares back towards the crib, slowly withdrawing his warm hands from your slightly aching breasts. “I... I don't think I can do that... ever again,” he whispers barely audible when his eyes wander back to your body, lingering on your lower half where the dull pain hums deep within. “I can't bear the thought of hurting you again, of making you go through all of that again... It was my seed that did this to you... You're in this bed because of me...”

“Sebastian!” you say almost sternly as you've had this conversation many times before. “I told you, it's alright. Look at your babies, they are as healthy as can be, and I will be too. I am here, aren't I? You heard the healer, it could have been so much worse, but it wasn't! I'm still here!” You grab his chin and make him look at you. “We've both wanted this, I wanted this, and believe me, I will do it again!”

“No, you won't! I can't lose you!” he pleads and presses his lips together, his eyes wandering away again.

The turmoil is etched deep into his features, and it breaks your heart seeing him like this. You know he wanted to add a “too”, and it hangs between you like a dark cloud of a past you both tried to work through, but never actually succeeded to do so. So many years after losing his sister it was still hurting him, and it hurt you even more not being able to help him through the pain. You've tried, everything, but it was a black spot on his soul that would never go away.

“You won't lose me,” you say softly, waiting for him to look back at you. When he does, you smile at him. “I'll always be here. I promised you, and I always keep my promises, you know that! I gave you five healthy children and I would have given you more. But I can't have you worrying so much, you know it'll only destroy you. And I need you, more than ever, all of you.” You pull his chin towards you and press your lips to his. “Even your seed in my womb,” you add in a low whisper against his mouth.

He furrows his brows despite your consoling words. It takes him a moment to consider them before he exhales deeply, his breath hot on your skin. “We'll have to be extra careful then, from now on, you know that, right? And I'll never stop worrying, you know that's part of my charm.” You smirk darkly at that, and you see the corner of his lips twitching slightly too. “But I have to admit, I missed filling you up to the brim...”

You laugh quietly, forcing yourself not to wince under the motion. “I missed that too... Do you remember those weeks we spent in bed? Weeks! It was all a blur at the end but I've never felt so exhilarated, so full, so weak and yet so elated to hopefully walk out of it carrying your child. Well, even if walking was not an option after all of that...”

He chuckles softly. “Oh, I always think back to that...” he purrs against your lips. “You've never looked better than with my seed seeping out of your pussy...”

“And all the positions we tried?” you go on, smiling happily as you think back, leaning your forehead against his. “I didn't even know half of them. But leave it to my bookish husband to teach me something while trying to hold his cum inside me...”

He smirks wider, tilting his head to kiss you gently. “And you know, there's even more we could try once you're feeling better,” he whispers between kisses before his lips move along your face back to your neck. Then his tone gets a little darker. “There's so much I still want to experience with you.”

“And you will,” you whisper back, grabbing his hair as he starts nibbling on your sensitive skin. “I'm here for it, for all of it. For you,” you add and press your lips to the top of his head.

He sighs contently and wraps his arms around you carefully as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath a little jagged as you feel his shoulders shake slightly. You swallow hard and rub his back when you can feel his tears dripping onto your skin.

Taking a shuddering breath yourself, you lie in each other's embrace for a long moment as you hold him as tightly as you can until he's calmed down again. Nuzzling your nose into his soft hair, you fill your nostrils with his scent while his warmth seeps into your body, relaxing the soreness you feel within.

“Sebastian,” you whisper quietly after yet another moment as he just lies in your arms, breathing deeply. “Let's make love tonight...”

He stirs slightly and slowly turns his face to you, his cheeks red and wet, and his eyes puffy, but on his lips you find that wicked smirk you've always loved about him. “What was that?” he asks hoarsely, his eyes boring into yours.

You return the smirk and raise a hand to gently wipe at his cheek. “I want you to put your cock into my pussy...” you whisper, blushing deeply.

He laughs softly and leans up to claim your lips for a heated kiss. You gasp against him, and when you do, he draws away and watches you closely. “Are you sure? Do you really feel up for it? I don't want to hurt you...”

You sigh and grab the back of his neck. “You won't. But I can't do much, you'll have to do all the work...” you tell him, chewing on your lips.

His smirk grows wider. “Not a problem!” he says with a chuckle. “No problem at all! Let me handle it, darling,” he adds excitedly and kisses you again, his hands back down at the hem of your nightgown to slowly push it up your body until he gently pulls it over your head, leaving you completely exposed to him.

He follows suit quickly, and you can only blink a few times, and he's suddenly naked next to you, his warm skin pressing against yours. His eyes roam your body for a long moment before he moves his hands carefully over your skin, starting from your hips upwards until he's back to fondling your breasts.

You let out a soft whimper and lick your lips as you watch him, shifting beside him until he pushes you gently into the mattress to stop you from moving. “Just relax,” he tells you quietly, smiling up at you as he lowers his head towards your tender chest. You inhale deeply and move right against his eager mouth as he closes his lips around your left breast, gently flicking his tongue against the hard bud.

Biting your lip, you throw a cautious glance towards your sleeping babies, but they are still breathing softly, tucked in and unaware of their parents' marital activities. When you look back at Sebastian, his eyes meet yours, and your cheeks warm up under the intensity of his gaze as he suckles softly on your sensitive mound.

The sight sends shivers down your spine, and you feel the heat pooling between your legs, the warmth even reaching the dully thrumming ache that binds you to the bed. Your hand moves down to stroke his hair as he moves his own to your right breast to give it the same attention he gives the other one as his long fingers knead your soft flesh carefully before he becomes a little bit more daring and pinches your nipple at the same time as he grazes his teeth over the one in his mouth.

You gasp and squirm slightly, your lips parting to let a soft moan escape you. His eyes remain on you as if he still worries about hurting you, but you only grip his hair tighter and push his head downwards, away from your breasts to a place you really need him. He complies a little reluctantly, licking and kissing your plump mounds and hard nipples as if saying goodbye to them before he moves his lips down between them until he presses his mouth to your stomach softly.

There he rests his head for a moment, his rough cheek on your abdomen as he listens into you like he has done every time you were pregnant with his children. Your fingers dig through his locks, gently caressing his scalp, and you feel him purring against you. His hot breath grazes your skin as he exhales loudly.

He leans up then, his eyes on you. “Do you really want this?” he asks quietly, worry etched into his face.

You nod, your fingers moving down to trail the line of his jaw, scraping over his beard, until you push your index finger against his bottom lip. “I want you,” you say softly and watch with reddening cheeks how he leans in and pulls your finger between his teeth, his tongue circling it eagerly as he sucks on it with his eyes sparkling.

When he releases it with a wet pop, he grabs your hand and plants more kisses on it until he presses his lips to the ring on your finger. “Anything for you, Mrs Sallow,” he tells you hoarsely and gives you an almost coy smile as he lets go of your hand and places it carefully on your stomach.

He then moves down and settles right between your legs, firmly pushing them apart with his elbows. His hot kisses on your hipbones make you whimper softly as you shift against him until his big hands rest on your thighs to hold you down gently. He moves his lips over your mound and straight to the throbbing bundle of nerves, his eyes wandering back up to you as he starts to suck on your clit.

You twitch against him, wincing slightly as the motion causes something to stir within you. He pauses slightly, holding your gaze, but you just smile at him bravely, hoping to encourage him to keep going. He does, eventually, his tongue flicking against your sensitive nub as he breathes loudly into the soft hint of hair above it. His hands rub over your thighs, his thumbs teasing at the insides as he keeps lapping at your sensitive skin, humming softly against it which in turn coaxes those sweet sounds out of your throat.

You close your eyes and lean your head into the pillow, trying to relax under his ministrations, when in reality you feel the tension building up in your stomach as your walls start clenching and unclenching needily. He seems to sense the contractions of your body and moves one of his hands along the inside of your thigh until you can feel his fingertips brushing against your folds, gently stroking your outer labia as he keeps sucking on your clit, his stubble adding to the friction that you so desperately try to chase.

A deep moan escapes you as he pulls the throbbing nub between his teeth at the same time as he sinks his finger into your slit, rubbing up and down through your slick before he pushes carefully against your entrance. When your eyes flutter open, his heated gaze is on you as he stills his movements against your clit and presses his finger slowly into your eager pussy, so much more gentle than he usually does it. He moves it around in teasing circles, literally testing the waters as he stretches your entrance slightly.

You take deep breaths, licking your lips, your chest rising and falling faster. You see and feel him swallowing against you before he pushes his digit deeper, slowly, ever so slowly, opening your tight channel. He halts the motion when he is knuckle deep in you, his fingertip pressing gently against your walls before he curls his finger slightly, the tiny movement causing you to gasp and twitch against him.

He brings his attention back to your throbbing nub as he keeps licking it with rough strokes of his tongue while he moves his finger within you, slowly in and out, over and over again, and it's the steady rhythm that drives you insane with need. You feel your walls tightening around him, yet before the tension eases, he slips his finger out, but only to push two of them into you now. You groan softly at the stretch and thrash your head back slightly as he starts pushing them in and out faster until he moves against you relentlessly.

Watching you from under his lashes, he leans back and replaces his mouth with his free hand, rubbing fast and tight circles around your clit while he fingers you with reckless abandon. You moan and whimper, the tension growing almost unbearable before it suddenly explodes into a bright flash of light, making stars dance behind your eyelids as you squeeze your eyes shut under the sensation, the low thrumming in your womb surprisingly only adding to the feeling of pure bliss as you succumb to his eager touches.

You come around his fingers, your hips jerking upwards as your body convulses, your lips parting to let a soft cry fall from them. While you still feel the tremors of your orgasm, you barely feel him pulling away from you until you feel and taste your own slick on his lips as he pushes his mouth against yours.

Grabbing his hair with a shaking hand, you kiss him back hungrily, your moans swallowed by his tongue as he presses it against your own. He rests on his arms, careful not to put any weight on your body as he hovers above you, his knees caging you in while his hard erection lies eagerly twitching on your stomach.

You meet his gaze during the soft wrestle of your tongues, and after a long moment, he leans away, giving you another peck, before he nods wordlessly and sits back on his knees to gently pull your legs out from beneath him and rests them on his thighs. You go a step further and carefully wrap them around his waist as you watch him breathlessly.

Yet before he brings his cock even in the vicinity of your pussy, he freezes, and you see a dark shadow crossing his features as he looks away for a moment. Only a few seconds later, he raises his hand and moves his fingers, guiding his magic through the air to open the top drawer of your night-stand before a small vial floats out of it and right into his big palm. He turns it between his long fingers and frowns.

“Will this still work?” he then asks hoarsely, looking at you with deep lines on his forehead as he shows you the contraceptive potion. “It's quite old, isn't it?”

You throw him a warm smile before you take a shuddering breath, still too worked up to breathe properly. “It'll be fine. I once drank a Wiggenweld potion I found in an old cave and it was fine. Come on, let me take it,” you whisper and hold out your hand.

He watches you with a raised eyebrow but then hands you the small vial, watching you cautiously as you uncork it and down it in one go, the warmth of the liquid settling in your stomach immediately as it magical properties spread through your body. Closing your eyes to breathe against the slightly bitter taste, you give him back the empty flask which he discards quickly.

You see him opening his mouth but before he can voice his concern once more, you smile at him. “I'm fine. Please, can we continue? I really need your cock right now...”

He inhales sharply before the slight shadow of a smirk graces his lips. Without another word, he puts one hand around his length and one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit once more for good measure to make your thighs twitch against him before he swipes his tip through your wet folds and then slowly pushes against your entrance.

You brace for his intrusion but as soon as he sinks his tip into you, you moan softly and lean your head back, your hands falling to your sides while you grip the bedsheets as tightly as your pussy grips him. He moves his hips further until he bottoms out inside you, his entire length buried deep within, prodding at your cervix. As he lets you adjust to his size, you feel blissfully full, smiling softly as you remember the countless times he's filled you out like this before.

He leans back down on his arms and slowly raises his hips, pushing your legs up slightly as he watches you closely. Your hands move to his wrists as you hold onto him, your eyes wandering over his face, trying to convey just how fine you feel. The look in his eyes is one of concern and concentration, and you can only imagine how hard he is fighting his natural instincts to fuck you senseless right now.

You cross your feet behind his back and gently grind your hips against him, giving him the go to start moving. He doesn't hesitate long, but the motions of his hips are deliberate, slow, careful, as he pulls out slightly to push back in, back and forth, in and out, his pace contrasting his heavy breaths. He is too considerate for his own good, and even though you admire him for his strength to hold back on your account, you want nothing more than to have him pound into you at the same pace as he has done countless times before.

You inhale deeply and close your eyes, remembering how he used to fuck you, with his hands gripping your hips or with his body flush on top of yours, pinning you to the bed as he ruts his hips against you, be it with his eyes on you or from behind with his hot breaths in your ear. You moan softly as the memories alone make your walls clench around him.

He seems to understand your need now and starts moving faster, his breaths strained as he grips the bedsheets next to your hips, still too anxious to touch you properly. Your hands move up his arms, and as you feel his tense muscles, you rub them softly. While he pushes his pelvis harder against you, slipping his cock in and out faster with your walls assisting him in pulling him deeper with each thrust, your eyes flutter open and you meet his heated gaze.

“I love you,” you mouth between soft whimpers, and he holds your gaze with dark eyes before he suddenly halts his motions and leans closer to you, his lips hovering over yours, and it's you who claims his mouth for a much needed kiss as you grab the back of his neck with both hands, pulling him towards you before he almost looses his balance and threatens to fall on top of you.

Yet it is exactly what you want, and you keep pulling him despite his obvious resistance. He looks at you, slightly out of breath, as if asking for permission, but you only wrap your arms and legs tighter around him until his heavy body is lying on yours, pushing you gently into the bed while his warmth seeps through your skin, calming the initial turmoil within you.

He captures your lips for another kiss as he starts moving his hips against you once more, the new angle giving him the opportunity to really rut into you, and each thrust sends shivers down your spine and rocks your body beneath him. You moan into his mouth while he cradles your head between his arms as he leans on his elbows, taking some of his weight off you.

Your hands hold onto his broad back, your fingernails sinking into his skin before you scratch them over it as he pushes hard and fast into you, every time hitting that sweet spot deep within, and you cry out against him, your noises muffled by his tongue pressing into your mouth. The tension builds as rapidly as he moves his cock inside your tight channel, and while he still pounds into you with almost desperate abandon, you come around him with a force that makes your entire body shudder and twitch beneath him.

The deep rooted ache in your stomach is silenced by the orgasm crashing through you, and for the first time in a long while you feel like yourself again, weightless and elated, happy in his embrace, happy with your body as it convulses as you want it to convulse: in sheer bliss and not uncontrollable bouts of pain. You melt into the sensation and are barely able to kiss him as his movements become even more erratic.

You groan against him, his heavy breaths mingling with yours, causing you to feel light-headed and dizzy, but in the best way possible, as you feel him thrusting into you, the tension in his body a telltale sign that he's close to climaxing as well. He is lost in the moment, leaning his forehead against yours, but before he gives you that final thrust, the tiniest of hesitations makes him freeze for a second.

You're quick to grab his face and look deep into his eyes before you whisper breathlessly: “Come inside me. Please. It's going to be alright...”

You see his lips moving, but no sounds come out, and instead he resumes rutting into you, frantically, definitely desperately, before he finally groans loudly and pushes hard into you, his tight balls pressing against your arse as he starts twitching inside you, emptying himself completely as thick ropes of cum shoot into your womb, the feeling as familiar as the sight above you. You caress his cheeks through his release before he collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hands move to his back, and you rub it softly, soothing the red lines you left on his skin, as you hold him in your embrace while he slowly relaxes against you, his cock still throbbing inside you, your walls tight around him as if to embrace him as well, as if to welcome him back, eager to not let him go just yet.

Your heavy breaths ease slowly, and you close your eyes as you nuzzle your nose into his hair, relaxing beneath him. Yet when he suddenly stirs, his hips moving upwards as he gently tries to unwrap your legs from around his waist, you grab his shoulders and, against the ache in your thighs, keep your legs crossed behind his back. “Stay,” you whisper hoarsely. “Please...”

He lifts his head slightly and looks at you, his eyes wandering over your flushed face. You hold his gaze before you pull him towards you to claim his mouth. The kiss is lazy and comforting, coaxing him back into lying down on you, slipping his cock back in all the way as he breathes loudly against you. You hold him and kiss him, savouring his warmth for as long as you can.

“How do you feel?” he asks between kisses, his voice low and as hoarse as yours as it vibrates through your head.

“Better,” you reply, pressing your lips to his cheek. “So much better.” And it's true. With his weight on you, the pain within dulls to a barely there throbbing. “You know, I think all I needed to recover was your seed in me...” you jest quietly and move back to capture his lips.

He scoffs into your mouth, but there's a twinkle in his eyes as he watches you. His tongue keeps circling yours lazily before he moves his lips over your cheek and down your jaw to kiss your throat, his hands caressing your head, with his fingers tangling into your hair. “I love you,” you hear him mutter against your skin as he nibbles softly on your neck. “More than you think... more than I can bear sometimes... I would die without you...”

Your heart swells, with love and concern for him, and you rub his back in a soothing fashion as you fight back tears. A stifled sob makes it past your trembling lips nonetheless, and he leans up at the sound of it, looking at you with furrowed brows, a panicked look in his warm eyes.

You swallow and shake your head at him, pressing your lips together as you blink quickly. He reaches one hand up to cup your cheek and wipe at your wet skin. “Are you hurting?”

“No,” you whisper with your voice shaking. “I'm just... so...” You sob again and close your eyes, more tears spilling past your lashes. “I love you so much, Sebastian. And I'll... never leave you... I promise...” you manage to croak out between crying quietly. He puts both of his hands on your face and brings his lips to yours, gently kissing you as you shiver beneath him.

You kiss him back and slowly calm down again, leaning into his touches as you focus on him and him alone. Your breaths mingle in your mouths as you lean your forehead against his, a blissful dizziness pushing aside your worries.

“And... whatever comes our way... we'll manage... we'll deal with it... together,” you whisper barely audible.

His eyes are dark and swimming in emotions as he watches you, then nods slowly. “Together,” he repeats and takes a shuddering breath. “Always.”

“Always,” you say with him and smile warmly. He leans in to kiss you again while slightly shifting against you. You sigh quietly as you feel him moving within you.

For a moment he just looks at you as if to make sure you're still here before he gives you another peck and leans away then, undoing your connection so fast you can barely protest against the sudden empty feeling inside you. Your legs fall to his sides, twitching as they finally relax.

He rolls off you, but then gently grabs your shoulders and turns you onto your side as well until your rear is pressed against his front. He doesn't hesitate at all when he slips his cock between your thighs as he pulls you closer to his chest. You inhale deeply and snuggle against him, grabbing the arm he snakes around you.

You're both facing the crib now where your twin babies still sleep peacefully, their tiny breaths a comforting sound in your ears. Sebastian leans his head on your shoulder and inhales deeply as he moves his other hand to your stomach, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. A soft moan escapes you as you move against him, your thighs clenching around his hot member comfortably until you feel him harden between them once more.

As you turn your head slightly to watch him out of the corner of your eye, you reach one hand down between your legs and guide him back into your pussy, the familiar feeling of being filled out calming you immediately. He shifts against your rear as he pushes in as far as he can before he just rests there, holding you to his body, his hot breath making strands of your hair fly.

You close your eyes and lean against him. “I missed this...” you murmur softly.

“Me too...” he replies, his voice a low hum in your ear. “Do you think –”

“– we can do this more often now?” you finish his quiet question and smirk. “I sure hope so. No, I know so, because I do feel better, really. You make me complete, Sebastian,” you add and turn your head more to brush your lips against his cheek. He leans in and claims your mouth, smiling against you.

“So it was lack of sex that made you ill?” he muses with a smirk that is both mischievous and concerned, the duality of his emotions making you chuckle.

“It was lack of you,” you whisper against his lips.

“But I was here, I was always here,” he protests quietly, leaning back a little to look at you, slightly hurt.

You reach up a hand and caress his stubbled cheek. “You've been bearing the burden of our life alone for the past months, always worrying about my health and money and our future, and I feel... horrible for putting you through this, for not being able to do anything.” He opens his mouth to object, but you put a finger to his lips. “But I am here too and thanks to your intensive care, I am better, and we'll manage this together now, do you hear me? Let me carry some of your worries as well, please.”

He listens intently, his eyes boring into yours, the lines on his face deepening before they relax again. “We're not selling your hideous socks,” he then says with a smirk that reminds you so much of the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

You laugh, both relieved at his calm tone and offended by his words. “Then we can go back to tomb robbing, how's that?” you suggest and poke your tongue out at him.

He stares at your mouth, then grins. “I promised you an honest life, so no, we'll not traipse through cobwebbed old caves ever again,” he says firmly, kissing your cheek as he leans away slightly, the hard lines back on his face. “We'll find a way. I'm sure there are still some people who owe you a favour or two.”

You snort at that as you think back to your days of helping everyone you met without the slightest hint of hesitation. “An honest life, huh? Sounds a bit like extortion to me,” you tease, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“It's called justice, darling. And it's only fair. You've done so much for so many people, me included, and you need to think of yourself for once.” His voice is low and a tad too serious for your liking.

“I'm a mother of five and a wife, I've had my time of thinking of myself,” you whisper. “It's us now. But you're right, we shouldn't be afraid to ask for help ourselves.”

“Not exactly what I said, but fine,” he agrees with a soft chuckle and kisses your jaw, shifting his hips against you as he presses his hand to your stomach.

You lick your lips and close your eyes, slowly going back to feeling the present instead of worrying or thinking about the future. His warm body moulds to yours as he starts grinding against your arse while your walls clench lazily around his cock.

“So, are you up for another round or do we just lie like this for a bit?” he whispers into your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Why do I have the feeling that you want to make up for all those months we weren't able to do this in just one evening?” You chuckle softly as you turn your head to him, meeting his gaze, his eyes sparkling wickedly.

“You said you feel better. I'm trusting you that you're not lying to me. Are you lying to me?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“I'm not lying to you,” you whisper back, putting your hand on his as he rubs your stomach. “I do feel better and if you're fine with me just lying here, then please, go ahead and use me as you see fit.”

He groans into your ear. “Ugh, the temptation...” he hisses through his teeth. “Don't say that, I might not be able to hold back.”

“Then don't,” you challenge with a smirk.

He stares at you, breathing loudly through his nose before he closes his eyes and nods quietly. “If you insist,” he murmurs and moves his hand to your hip, digging his fingers into your skin, and you moan softly under the familiar sensation.

His other arm snakes around your neck and holds you gently pressed to his chest as he starts pushing his hips against your arse, slowly at first, then quickly losing all kind of control until he pounds into you with all he has. You melt into his embrace and moan louder, the tension within coiling up as your walls tighten around him.

Your eyes roll back as you cry out in nothing but bliss while your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave, causing your body to shudder against his. His grunts are loud in your ear as he keeps thrusting into you, in and out, faster and harder, unrelenting until another wave of pleasure crashes over you.

While you float in the wonderful weightlessness of your release, he thrusts into you mercilessly, his movements much rougher than before as he slips back into his old behaviour, and you relish in the feeling of submitting to him fully. Your stomach fills with a warmth that is not just his seed as he finally stills inside you, pumping hot spurts of cum into your womb once more, but a warmth that exceeds the physical nature of his touch.

You feel safe and protected, completely at ease, knowing he is right there, pressed against you, holding you, caring so much about you that you could feed off his love for years and years to come. Centuries even, for all eternity for all you care. It's always been him, and through all the hardships in your lives, you've been together, and you've always come out the other end, holding each other, being together, no matter what.

You reach a hand up and grab the back of his head, your fingers digging into his hair as you pull him towards you for a kiss that hopefully conveys all those emotions swirling within your body. He breathes heavily against you, the hand on your hip easing its grip before it snakes up to cup your face as he kisses you back passionately.

You're lost in his embrace, sinking into his taste and smell and feel, almost completely oblivious to your surroundings. That is until you feel your breasts tensing up, just seconds before you hear a soft little squeak followed by a tiny little sob. Your eyes fly open and so do Sebastian's, before you both look towards the crib next to your bed.

Your twin babies stir, softly cooing. You breathe deeply against him, and without another word, he slips away from you, not caring about the mess you both created as he quickly walks to Beatrice and Bernie and leans over the crib with a soft smile on his hard features. You watch him as you roll onto your back and shift against your pillow, sitting up slightly. He picks up Bernie first, the little boy already sporting some of your features, while your baby girl definitely comes after her father.

He carries your son to your side and places him gently into your arm, lining him up to suckle on your breast. You look up at him shortly, noticing the almost envious look in his dark eyes that makes you smirk slightly before you wince when your baby boy starts nibbling on your hard nipple. Sebastian meets your gaze, before returning to the crib and gently lifting his tiny baby girl into his big hands, cradling her with his cheeks flushed.

When he puts Beatrice down in your other arm and docks her to your other breast, he looks at you lovingly before slipping next to you on the bed and supporting your shoulders as you feed his children. You inhale sharply under the eager sucking of your twins as you cradle them to your chest, trying to relax while you lean against your husband.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he coos into your ear, his breath ghosting your skin. “Look at what you're able to do, look at our babies...”

You do and smile softly, watching the tiny humans in your arms. In the end it was all worth it, all the pain and aches and those weeks and months you were battling against your own body. Seeing your children, healthy and eager to grow into this world, and seeing the soft expression in Sebastian's eyes, makes up for everything. You turn your head and brush your lips against his jaw before he leans in and captures them for a gentle kiss.

When he leans back, he smiles at you disarmingly, making your cheeks burn. He shifts against you as one of his hands moves over the tiny head of his son, while you gently rub your daughter's back as both of them still suckle eagerly on your breasts. For the longest moment you both watch them feed, content in each other's embrace.

Beatrice is the first to be sated, and when she lets go of your breast with a soft popping sound, Sebastian is already there to pick her up and lean her tiny body against his shoulder, as he stands from the bed and paces the room slowly, rubbing his daughter's back until a little burp breaks from her cute little mouth. You watch him, while you cradle Bernie in your arms, and smile softly.

“My good little girl,” he coos as he keeps walking her around the room, holding her gently to his bare chest. The sight warms you from the inside, and you almost don't notice when Bernie stirs against you, squirming slightly.

You lift him up and smile widely at him, meeting his curious big eyes, before you press your lips to his small forehead and inhale deeply, his sweet infant scent filling your nostrils. Next to you Sebastian is putting Beatrice down into the crib again and turns back to you, gently taking your son from your grasp, and repeats the motion he did with his daughter. Bernie's burp comes loud and immediate, and Sebastian's surprised laugh fills the room and your heart.

“That's my boy,” he chuckles and cradles his son in his arms for another moment while you start swaying the crib to calm your little girl, your eyes locked to the tall form of your husband.

You've always known he'd be a good father, and he even exceeded your expectations and became the best father you could have wished for for your children. He was always there, not shying away from doing anything when it came to his offspring, from changing diapers to bathing them or nursing them to sleep even if he was tired and exhausted himself. It was his unyielding love and support that convinced you to add to your family in the first place, knowing that he would always take care of your kids and you.

He notices your loving stare and smiles at you, his cheeks slightly flushed as he walks back to the bed and sits down on the edge, holding Bernie in his arms, as he leans towards you and presses his lips to your forehead. You take the infant from him and put him down gently next to his sister, who immediately stops her slight squirming. The twins cuddle together, and you gasp softly as they touch hands shortly after.

Sebastian wraps his arm around you as you both watch them in silent admiration. Leaning against him, you grab his other hand and hold it tightly before you raise it to your face and kiss his fingers, resting your lips on his ring. He hugs you tighter, breathing deeply. You snuggle against him and place your joined hands on your lap. He slips his fingers between yours and rubs your thigh with them before he turns his head and looks at you.

You look back, filled to the brim with happiness. His hand tightens around your waist as he pulls you closer to him until he lifts you onto his lap. You wrap your free arm around his neck when he suddenly stands from the bed and cradles you in his arms, a soft smile on his face as he carries you towards the small window of your bedroom.

“Look,” he whispers into your ear, and you follow his gaze through the old glass panel into your backyard, where your oldest twins play catch with a surprisingly nimble Edgar Adley.

The man you once assisted back in your teenage years has been a great help to your little family over the last decade and you couldn't be more grateful to him or his young wife for looking after Benjamin, Archie and Anne while you were bound to your bed, only able to look after your newborn twins while Sebastian has been looking after you.

Your gaze wanders on, and you find your sweet little daughter, the spitting image of yourself, sitting in the grass surrounded by her dolls and a stack of old books, while she moves her tiny fingers over a row of little flowers she braided together, completely oblivious to her brothers' playfulness. Yet when another boy approaches the fence, his hand held by a young blonde woman you know as Edgar's wife and the daughter of his late best friend Milo, she looks up curiously.

Sebastian chuckles. “Look at her, she's just like her mother,” he muses and kisses your cheek as he shifts you on his arms. “Completely oblivious to the world until a good-looking boy approaches and captures her attention.”

You scoff. “Remind you of someone, huh?”

“I was better looking,” he says with a smirk.

“And you weren't five when we met!” you laugh. “Though I'm sure you were already breaking hearts at that age.”

“Breaking hearts?” he repeats and looks at you slightly offended. “If anything, I was and am a heart-mender,” he adds and leans in to kiss you softly. “I did just cure you with my seed, didn't I?” he whispers under his breath and you blush deeply as you stare at him with your lips parted.

“Put me down,” you tell him softly after a moment of watching him closely, as you listen to the workings of your body, trying to distinguish your rapidly beating heart from the usual throbbing in your stomach.

He raises his eyebrows, but complies, gently setting you down until your feet touch the old floor boards. You hold onto him as you look up into his concerned face, your legs trembling slightly. His hands are on your waist, holding you just in case your body decides it isn't ready yet. But you feel surprisingly stable. When you put a hand on your abdomen, you inhale deeply, but the ache seems to have quieted down immensely.

“As weird as it may seem, but I think you're right...” you whisper and smile at him softly, but with your face flushed properly. “Though we shouldn't tell anyone about how I got better, okay?”

He laughs, the low rumble vibrating through your body. “We should also make sure you're properly healed,” he whispers and leans down to press his forehead to yours. “I might have to put in more...”

You cough slightly when you choke on your own spit at his proposal, but then reach up a hand and touch his face, your expression as serious as you can make it look while you feel yourself flooded with mischief and anticipation. “Yes, you might have to. Just to be sure.”

Sebastian's face lights up completely before he picks you up once more, wrapping your legs around his waist as he puts his big hands on your bum cheeks. You beam at him, your hands holding onto his shoulders. Slowly he carries you back to the bed, his eyes momentarily wandering towards the crib, but your twins are already sleeping again, fed and happy, their tiny fingers entangled, as their parents crawl back into bed.

When he puts you down on your back, hovering over you, you shake your head and motion him to roll around until you can lie on him. Once you rest on top of him, you smile down at him, cradling his face between your hands. He watches you with a warm smile as his hands come to rest on your hips, gently gripping your soft flesh.

You give him a short but heated kiss before you sit up on your knees, grinding your pelvis against his groin in slow circles while your chest bounces with every undulating motion. He sighs deeply beneath you, licking his lips.

“By Merlin's bloody facial hair, I've missed seeing you like this,” he whispers breathlessly, his hands moving up to grab your plump breasts, groping them with eager fingers.

You throw him a sultry smile as you move your wet folds over his hardening cock and reply with a breathy whisper: “Well, you better get used to it again. I have a lot to make up for.”

End notes: This started out with the idea to gather some prompts to write short smut or fluff or angst oneshots but then I got inspired to finally continue my Dad!Seb fic and here we are. The angst was real in this one, but also the tooth achingly sweet family life fluff.

By the way: Yes, I ship Edgar Adley with his late friend Milo's daughter. Listen! There is a blonde girl in Aranshire, maybe 8 or 10 years old, and I HC that it's Milo's daughter AND I see Edgar taking care of her after Milo's death (he did say he wanted to pay for her Hogwarts supplies one day) and when she grows up, they fall in love and have a baby boy and everything is happy! This story plays at least 13 years after we do that quest for him, so why not, huh? (Also did you know: that man with that sexy accent is voiced by the same guy who voices Victor Rookwood? WTF!)

As I mentioned in the first part (It is that time again) I borrowed the names of three of Sebastian's children (Benjamin, Archie and Anne) from @subastian-swallows, but added my own for Beatrice and Bernie (short for Bernard btw).

Seriously dude, five children! Two pairs of twins? Chill! His poor wife! No wonder she ended up bedridden! By the way: I have no idea about the topic and I didn't want to research too much because in the end it doesn't really matter, maybe it's even a magical malady, who knows. So please don't ask me about details! (I also have no idea if my descriptions of breastfeeding are anywhere near the real thing, so forgive me for my ignorance!)

And yes: she was healed by his magical cum, believe it or not. I don't make the rules, that's how the world works in my head!

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #reader insert #angst #fluff #smut

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casually-eat-my-soul · 5 months ago

Note

Thoughts on this as a Sterek AU?:

The vibe of the children librarian is definitely stiles but I think it would be cute if Derek was the children librarian so instead we have this:

Stiles wanted to work with children like his mother did, and the library was the best place. It had become his safe refuge during his mother’s sickness and he hoped to make it a safe place for other children. But he was also hired to keep track of the more magical books.

Derek has hired by the sweet old lady, Ms Beatrice, who ran the beacon hills library. Derek was pretty sure she was immortal. She took one look at him and decided to ignore all the gossip surrounding his name. He was put to work on the front desk because Ms Beatrice thought that would help the rumours and force Derek to interact with people. But also as a werewolf he would how to direct other supernaturals on what research they would need.

When stiles was hired Derek was definitely curious. As there was this bright eyed human who had the softest voice when working with children, but could turn around and insult you with the most venom Derek had ever heard. Stiles wore the most outlandish outfits but somehow looked absolutely ethereal in them. Not to mention seeing the stunning man working with children with his neck on display was ruining Derek’s control of his wolf. Beatrice thinks this this is completely hilarious.

Stiles knows how he acts compared to the other librarians, where he worked. Especially Derek hale, who brightest outfit that stiles had seen him wear, was a medium grey shirt. Not that he looked bad in it. Stiles had struck up a conversation with him a few times, but Derek alway responded with one or two word answers before he turned away. Most people would be off put by this but not Stiles.

Stiles had seen the way that Derek would interact with the quieter kids who didn’t feel comfortable enough around Stiles. With his small smile and bunny teeth, Stiles was so completely over his head. He also saw how Derek would curl in on himself when parents rushed their children away from him with nasty glares - or how his eyes would go blank when a women came on to strong. Stiles was an observer and knew he could be overbearing but there was something about Derek that made it so he couldn’t stay away.

Derek never knew how to answer stiles when he tried to make small talk. His tongue got tied standing so close to stiles in a small area; where all he could smell was ink,snow,home,lighting cinnamon, mate that made his chest hurt. Derek fleas from their conversations before he could embarrass himself by saying something like “hey, I’m a werewolf and I’m pretty sure you’re my mate do you want to get married”

This comes to head when there is an attack on the library, some dumbass tried to get to the magical section and summons a demon (this is beacon hills what did you think would happen). Derek is badly injured after saving Stiles and some of the kids there. Stiles manages to exorcise the demon despite being in shock that his coworker derek hale is Derek Hale, with a capital W. So Stiles, being Stiles decides to big him back to his apartment and heal him with his spark.

(Fuck yeah, getting to the good stuff). Derek wakes up the next morning, just wrapped in Stiles scent, warm and the most well rested he’s been since he was 16. Derek hears stiles in the kitchen and is prepared for judgement, disgust, fear and the worst reaction. Cue his surprise when stiles brings him a tray stacked full of food with a worried look on his face. His wolf goes insane at the sight of his mate courting him and Derek breaks.

Stiles was beside himself when Derek wasn’t waking up. He wasn’t sure how long it takes and werewolf, Alpha werewolf??? To heal from injuries given by a demon. So he made pancakes, everyone loves pancakes right?? He also made hash browns, bacon, eggs and waffles but that wasn’t important. He stacked the tray with as much food as he could carry and hoped Derek would wake up soon. So sue him if he was a little shocked to see Derek, sitting up (Awake) looking at him like Stiles was the greatest thing to happen to the earth since Star Wars.

The two of them end up talking (over each other in the beginning, but a+ for that communication)

“I’m a werewolf / spark”

“WHAT”

Once they both calm down they actually manage to have a conversation and Derek confesses that he was too scent drunk on stiles to have a conversation and stay in control. This makes stiles blush bright red and Derek is obsessed. He really wants to know how far down the blush goes. And it that moment, Derek just upfront asks to court stiles.

Stiles is an absolute gay mess right about now. He tries to tell Derek that he shouldn’t feel obligated to “reward” him after Stiles saved his life. Completely missing the point. Derek sees how insecure Stiles is in this moment and lays everything out on the table.

“No stiles, you’re my mate”

“Oh, Oh”

“Yeah, so please let me court you, let me take care of you.”

Stiles of course says yes!! They court for a week and a half before stiles breaks and demands that Derek has his wicked way with him. So Derek does.

Repeatedly.

The next morning they are officially a couple. Beatrice is so proud. She goes around beacon hills telling everyone that she single handedly got them together. She also goes around telling everyone that she is super excited to be a grandmother.

The sheriff is not amused.

Stiles and Derek get married three years later. Beatrice walks Derek down the aisle. She also tells an embarrassing story of the time when Derek got jealous over a child who declared that they would steal Stiles away from him and stiles would marry them instead. She cries over “her children” getting married and reminds them she wants grandchild before she to old to play with them. She spends half the evening snipping back and forth with the sheriff.

When Beatrice retires, stiles and Derek become known as the heart sickening couple who runs the library.

Thanks for the ask!! This was super fun to right!

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #stiles x derek #derek hale is obsessed with him #derek x stiles #derek hale deserves nice things #stiles is a nice thing #he fucks stiles until he loses control of his magic #just saying!!#sheriff stilinski #the sheriff has a one sided beef with Beatrice #because that’s his on dammit #he raised him through his delinquency years and ain’t no way someone is out there taking credit for that #teen wolf

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theitgirlnetwork · 5 months ago

Text

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve.

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?”

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.”

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands.

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue.

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her.

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-”

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles.

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for.

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?”

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA.

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while.

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.”

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her.

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.”

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face.

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.”

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too.

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them.

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.”

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them.

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.”

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now.

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time.

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them.

Jealousy. Longing. Needing.

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person.

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath.

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes.

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.”

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.”

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?”

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him.

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head.

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat.

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side.

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.”

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima.

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood.

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty.

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely.

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor. “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.”

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.”

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life.

The Paris Opera Ballet

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drinkinboilingcoffee · 5 months ago

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Useless headcanons for the characters in no real order whatsoever:

-The Aftons have a cat named Beatrice and the Emilys have a golden retriever named Felix. As an adult Michael had a ferret named Noodle. -Mike has a bad habit of scratching his palms when he’s stressed. This became a pretty big issue post scoop when he had claw-y hands and more fragile skin, and he sometimes rips his hands right open during nightshifts. -Evan has schizophrenia (his Fredbear doll has a speaker in it, the others are auditory hallucinations). -Charlie is lactose intolerant and can’t eat ice cream, which is inconvenient when Elizabeth keeps trying to give her coupons for it for her birthday. -William has unusually sharp teeth due to a genetic mutation. Michael and Elizabeth both inherited it. -Henry has gotten burned in the workshop so many times that he can’t really feel his hands get burnt anymore. -Charlie had a twin that she absorbed in the womb (sorry Sammy). Henry dropped this information in casual conversation when she was like 7 and she has been horrified ever since. -Post-scoop Michael uses crutches to help get around. -William is legally blind after the springlocks but still drives. Out of spite. -William is like 5’5” and Clara was almost 6 feet tall, and Michael inherited her genes, so William just watched his son slowly tower over him more and more over the years. -Elizabeth held onto Evan’s doll after he died, and Michael took it after she died. Elizabeth used it as a blunt weapon a few times. -Michael holds random items in his chest cavity post-scoop (he could fit a whole ass person in there if he wanted). -Michael definitely posted The Immortal And The Restless fic and fanart once social media was invented. He hates Twilight so much. -Henry never learned how to text. -Jeremy has memory lapses and seizures post-bite. Every time someone asks about the scar he tells a different story. -Mike (as a zombie) accidentally bit one of Jeremy’s fingers off once. Can’t elaborate. -Zombies are Michael’s least favorite supernatural creature, he’s so pissed he ended up as one. -Undead Mike acts kind of animalistic sometimes. Like he is very much a continuation of “every non-human character has to purr”. Also bites people. -Elizabeth used to bring stray cats home and most of them had like the bubonic plague.

#fnaf #fnaf au #michael afton #william afton #sleepwalking insomniac #shitpost #henry emily #elizabeth afton #evan afton #charlie emily

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

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i honestly would love to see more of jamie with bea like him deciding to take her to see the team for the first time after she’s born because maybe him and reader wanted some time for themselves and get adjusted before having everyone meet her?

My whole family is out today and I have nothing to do, so I’m going to be answering some requests! And maybe opening up my inbox again

I’m a sucker for requests that ask for continuations of my other fics. Thanks for requesting!

lyrical smile, indigo eyes

How did you become lucky enough to have a baby like this with the absolute love of your life? You were pretty sure that you and Jamie had peaked at marriage, but Beatrice Georgie Tartt just takes the cake. You are exhausted because labor was intense, and Jamie swears if you gripped his hand any tighter you would have shattered it. But you didn’t, and you’re out of the hospital and back at home. Bea is a week and a half old, and there are only four people who have met her, outside of the hospital staff: Georgie, Simon, Roy, and Keeley. Jamie didn’t want you to be overwhelmed by a lot of visitors right after you had Bea, so he asked a favor from Ted, who promised to keep AFC Richmond so busy that they wouldn’t have time to drop in unannounced.

But now Jamie’s getting ready to go back to training, and he wants to take Bea with him before it starts.

“I can take her this Friday, Isaac’s been texting me all week and Coach said he’d end training early,” he says from his place on the living room floor, folding onesie after onesie.

You roll your eyes from the couch with Bea in your arms, half-asleep in the middle of her feeding.

“You sure you’re up to it, babe? She goes through diapers like crazy. You’re gonna have to bring a brand new pack if you even want to stand half a chance.”

Jamie just grins. “No problem babe, I’m a pro. Ain’t in the Premier League for nothing.”

“Alright,” you say, “I’m coming too, but only to go have girl time with Rebecca and Keeley. Becca says she has some like spa-day stuff for me. Apparently she did all the research into postpartum care.”

Jamie makes a hm, interesting face and Bea lets out a gurgle and wakes herself up.

—

You roll up to Nelson Road at 1pm, diaper bag packed with everything you could possibly need. This is your first time out of the house with Bea, and both you and Jamie are nervous. He’s trying to make you laugh with dumb jokes but your eyebrows are tightly knit together.

Bea is incredibly tiny, and the Richmond boys are… well, they’re not. You know they can be gentle, but you also know they are capable of getting overexcited way too easily. You nervously fiddle with the toy hanging from Bea’s carseat so Jamie looks at you in the rearview mirror and says, “Babe, relax, it’ll be fine, yeah? They don’t have to hold her or anything, and I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

That calms you down a little. You know Jamie means it. He’ll watch Bea like a hawk, and isn’t afraid to be a prick when it comes to taking care of the people he loves. You take a breath and nod as he pulls into a parking space.

—

The team is on the pitch, so you and Jamie walk out to meet Ted, Roy, and Beard. The boy see you walk up and immediately stop their drills, but Roy shouts “Oi! You lot still have got thirty fucking minutes! Keep fucking going!” So they go back to whatever the heck they’re doing.

Ted says, “Look at this cute little tartlet! Ain’t she just the sweetest thing?” and you can tell by Beard’s reaction that Ted’s been waiting to use that one for a while.

“I washed and sanitized my hands three minutes ago,” says Roy, “can I hold her?”

That is a little bit surprising. You would have assumed Ted would be the first one to ask, but you suppose he’s Phoebe’s favorite “Uncle Roy,” a reason, so you hand her over with a kiss on her forehead. You kiss Jamie and say, “Bye babe, I’m headed to see Keels and Becca,” then turn on your heel to Rebecca’s office. You’re headed inside when you throw one last glance at Bea, and almost burst out laughing; Jamie’s helping Roy put on the wrap so he can wear Bea while yelling at the team. You look out the window once you make it to the second floor of Nelson Road and see Roy coaching with Bea snugly secured to his chest and Jamie hovering close by. You’re glad today’s drills don’t seem to involve any footballs.

You tap on Rebecca’s door then push it open, and are immediately almost knocked over by Keeley, who has launched herself at you.

“HI BABE, HOW-FUCKING-ARE YOU?” she squeals, and you wonder if she’s so loud because she was containing herself when she met Bea. You grin and squeeze her back.

“I am so fucking tired and so fucking happy,” you reply. “Hi Bec!!”

Rebecca gets up off the couch and gives you a tight hug as best she can, because Keeley is still holding you.

“It is so wonderful to see you, darling,” she says, “I saw Roy has the baby out on the pitch. She’s going to be kicking a football before she knows how to walk properly.”

You laugh and Keeley says, “Oi, Roy’s got her? Good luck getting her back. If she’s anything like Phoebe she’ll throw a right fit when it’s time to go.”

“I know,” you sigh, “She’s going to have so many aunts and uncles, it’s insane. Not sure where Jaim and I are going to fall on her ranking of favorite people.”

Rebecca smiles and moves to the couch. “Would you like to sit and have some tea? I read there are certain types that help with breastfeeding.”

You grimace. “I would, except sitting is not exactly my favorite right now. But tea sounds wonderful.”

“You can lay down on your stomach, babe,” Keeley says helpfully. “Rebecca and can cuddle and catch you up on everything you’ve missed.”

You say, “That sounds fucking amazing,” and you’re asleep ten minutes into their chattering.

—

You startle awake to the sound of a knock on the door. Rebecca calls, “Come in,” and it takes you a moment to figure out where you are. There’s a blanket draped over you and Rebecca and Keeley are still on the other side of the couch, both furiously typing and scrolling on their laptops.

You rasp, “How long was I out?” as Roy pokes his head in the door. He’s still wearing Bea.

“Twenty minutes,” Rebecca answers. “Keeley and I thought it best to leave you be.” Keeley nods, not looking up from her screen.

Roy clears his throat. “Hi babe!” says Keeley. She half glances up from her screen then does a double take.

“Holy fuck, you look right sexy like that, Kent.”

Roy grins at her. “Don’t get any fucking ideas.”

Keeley says, “Too late. I have so many fucking ideas,” to which you and Rebecca share a disgusted face.

“That’s disgusting, Keeley,” you tease.

“Oi, you’re one to talk!” she returns and Rebecca nods as if to say, she’s got a point.

“Any-fucking-way,” Roy says, looking at you, “Figured you’d want to be downstairs when the boys meet Bea. They’re changing and getting clean so it’s going to take a fucking minute.”

You nod. “Hey Bec, you wanna hold her?”

Rebecca closes her laptop. “I would absolutely love to.”

Roy growls in a way that means fuck no, but Bea’s your baby so he unwraps her and gently hands her to Rebecca. Bea settles so sweetly into Rebecca’s arms that you swear you want to cry. Stupid hormones.

“Your prick husband is still downstairs bothering Sam and Dani,” Roy says, and you remember oh yeah, I have a prick husband. You get up off the couch.

“I should probably go see him,” you reply. “Becca, you want to come, or..?”

Rebecca is still gazing at Bea, but she nods and stands up, heels discarded on the floor.

You make your way to the locker room to find Jamie surrounded by the team, scrolling through something on his phone.

“…And this is her wearing her Tartt onesie. Here she is with me mum, and this one…” he trails off when he sees you.

“Hi love!” he says, “Just showing the lads the pictures I got of Bea.”

There’s something about Jamie standing in the middle of the locker room crowded by his team that just makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode. You laugh and bound over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“You’re such a dad, Jamie Tartt,” you tell him affectionately, to which he replies, “Learned from the best, didn’t I?” with a glance at Ted.

“Alright,” you say, arms off of Jamie’s neck but now entwined around his left bicep, “who wants to meet Bea officially?”

Hands go up around the room and to your surprise, they’re all quiet. In scary unison, they move to sit on the benches and hold their hands up, palms facing outward.

“What the fuck is happening?” you whisper to Beard.

“Ted had a baby-etiquette debrief,” he whispers back. “Inside voices, clean hands, neck support, the whole deal. Had me make a slideshow to back him up.”

Rebecca shakes her head in disbelief as you all watch Isaac make his way around the room, inspecting hands and pronouncing them clean.

Rebecca does not look like she wants to give up Bea, but you tell her you’ll invite her over in a few days, as long as she doesn’t mind a messy house and takeout. She reluctantly hands Bea to Dani, who is beaming so hard you’re worried for his face muscles.

Jamie, meanwhile, rests his head on yours.

He leans down and whispers, “Hey babe?”

“Hm?” you respond.

“I’m going to fall asleep standing up. D’you think Bea would be fine if we crashed in Ted’s office?”

You grin. You think Bea would be fine anywhere there’s a member of AFC Richmond.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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cannedpickledpeaches · 10 months ago

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Sad Poems but I Choose to Interpret Them as Happy

Jade Leech x Reader

“I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as the starfish loves a coral reef and as kudzu loves trees, even if the oceans turn to sawdust and the trees fall in the forest without anyone around to hear them . . . . I will love you as the iceberg loves the ship, and the passengers love the lifeboat, and the lifeboat loves the teeth of the sperm whale, and the sperm whale loves the flavor of naval uniforms. I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp . . . I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and all the secrets have gone gasping into the world.” -Excerpt from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket

Jade is not as fickle as his brother, but he too is guilty of interests that come and go like the wind. There are some that stay, like hiking, foraging, and photography; but there are far more that he drops as soon as he’s figured them out. More often than not, his love is not long-lasting.

He has long accepted that any romantic relationship he finds himself in would have a very slim chance of being normal. Healthy. No, his love will likely destroy his partner, whether it is because of obsession or of fleeting interest. He thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to experience it. It would be interesting, a deviation from his norm.

You’re his target, but only because you made such a fascinating proposition. When you’re bored of me, tell me immediately, and we can break up with no hard feelings. Were you such a pragmatic person? He hadn’t noticed before. It spurs him on to know more, to learn everything about you. And once he does, once every single secret you could possibly hide is laid bare before him, he’ll lose interest like he always does and drop you like a bad habit.

So he does. Your favourite food. Colour. Season. The basic things, until they get more specific. The way you do your hair in the mornings. The recipes you favour and the ratio of their ingredients. Your reactions to his occasional unhinged comment. The shows that you laugh or cry at. The ones you think are mediocre. He files them all away in his memory, picking you apart like you’re a subject to study. That’s what he tells himself, anyway. Mild interest. Once he finds out everything, he’ll grow bored and leave.

Days turn to months turn to a year. Has so much time really passed? The secrets you hold have dwindled in number. He knows you inside out, top to bottom, soul to body. There’s only one thing left that he doesn’t know.

You often tease him, asking why he won’t bring you to the Coral Sea. He always gives some shoddy excuse or the other. He isn’t so sure, himself. There’s no real reason to stall. The ice floes have retreated. His parents would be delighted. He would finally know how you’d act in his hometown, in the dark, deep sea that is so different from your home, and with that, he would finally drop you. There will be nothing new.

Unfortunately, I find myself quite busy recently. Perhaps next month. When next month comes around, he pushes it another thirty days. Then another. He was never one to procrastinate, so why now? This is far from efficient. Was he such a cowardly person? He hadn’t known before. He needs to get it done so that he will no longer have a reason to keep you by his side—

Ah. That is the issue, isn’t it?

He doesn’t know how long he’d been in love. All he knows is that he can’t get bored anymore, even if the smile you give him is the same, even if your laughter that warms his chest is unchanging, even if he brings you home. All he knows is that as much as he thought his love would be destructive, he treasures your comfort and happiness too much to think about hurting you anymore. The deadline no longer lies where your last secret is. Forever, until the seas dry up, until he breaths his last gasp—he will love you forever.

#twst fanfic #twst #twst jade #jade leech #twisted wonderland #jade leech x reader #twst x reader #I like dissecting the characterization of yandere jade #but soft Jade is great too #twst x yuu #disney twst

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book--brackets · 4 months ago

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The Liveship Traders by Robin Hobb (1998-2000)

Wizardwood, a sentient wood. The most precious commodity in the world. Like many other legendary wares, it comes only from the Rain River Wilds.

But how can one trade with the Rain Wilders, when only a liveship fashioned from wizardwood can negotiate the perilous waters of the Rain River? Rare and valuable a liveship will quicken only when three members, from successive generations, have died on board. The liveship Vivacia is about to undergo her quickening as Althea Vestrit’s father is carried on deck in his death-throes. Althea waits for the ship that she loves more than anything else in the world to awaken. Only to discover that the Vivacia has been signed away in her father’s will to her brutal brother-in-law, Kyle Haven...

Others plot to win or steal a liveship. The Paragon, known by many as the Pariah, went mad, turned turtle, and drowned his crew. Now he lies blind, lonely, and broken on a deserted beach. But greedy men have designs to restore him, to sail the waters of the Rain Wild River once more.

Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke (1997-2021)

With lonely Ben aboard, brave dragon Firedrake seeks mythical place where silver dragons can live in peace. Over moonlit lands and sparkling seas, they meet fantastic creatures, summon up surprising courage - and cross a ruthless villain with an ancient grudge determined to end their quest. Only a secret destiny can save the dragons and bring them the true meaning of home.

The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow (2020)

In 1893, there's no such thing as witches. There used to be, in the wild, dark days before the burnings began, but now witching is nothing but tidy charms and nursery rhymes. If the modern woman wants any measure of power, she must find it at the ballot box.

But when the Eastwood sisters -- James Juniper, Agnes Amaranth, and Beatrice Belladonna -- join the suffragists of New Salem, they begin to pursue the forgotten words and ways that might turn the women's movement into the witch's movement. Stalked by shadows and sickness, hunted by forces who will not suffer a witch to vote -- and perhaps not even to live -- the sisters will need to delve into the oldest magics, draw new alliances, and heal the bond between them if they want to survive.

There's no such thing as witches. But there will be.

The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon (2013-present)

In 2059, Scion has taken over most of the world's cities, promising safety for all the citizens it deems worthy and wiping out clairvoyants wherever it can find them.

Paige Mahoney, though, is a clairvoyant--and a criminal just for existing. Paige is determined to fight Scion's power, and as part of the Seven Seals, Paige has found a use for her powers: she scouts for information by breaking into others' minds as they dream.

But when Paige is captured and arrested, she encounters a power more sinister even than Scion. The voyant prison is a separate city, controlled by a powerful, otherworldly race. These creatures, the Rephaim, value the voyants highly--as soldiers in their army.

Paige is assigned to a Rephaite keeper, Warden, who will be in charge of her care and training. He is her master. Her natural enemy. But if she wants to regain her freedom, Paige will have to learn something of his mind and his own mysterious motives.

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao (2021-present)

The boys of Huaxia dream of pairing up with girls to pilot Chrysalises, giant transforming robots that can battle the mecha aliens that lurk beyond the Great Wall. It doesn’t matter that the girls often die from the mental strain.

When 18-year-old Zetian offers herself up as a concubine-pilot, it’s to assassinate the ace male pilot responsible for her sister’s death. But she gets her vengeance in a way nobody expected—she kills him through the psychic link between pilots and emerges from the cockpit unscathed. She is labeled an Iron Widow, a much-feared and much-silenced kind of female pilot who can sacrifice boys to power up Chrysalises instead.

To tame her unnerving yet invaluable mental strength, she is paired up with Li Shimin, the strongest and most controversial male pilot in Huaxia. But now that Zetian has had a taste of power, she will not cower so easily. She will miss no opportunity to leverage their combined might and infamy to survive attempt after attempt on her life, until she can figure out exactly why the pilot system works in its misogynist way—and stop more girls from being sacrificed.

Kushiel's Legacy by Jacqueline Carey (2001-2003)

The land of Terre d'Ange is a place of unsurpassing beauty and grace. It is said that angels found the land and saw it was good...and the ensuing race that rose from the seed of angels and men live by one simple rule: Love as thou wilt.

Phèdre nó Delaunay is a young woman who was born with a scarlet mote in her left eye. Sold into indentured servitude as a child, her bond is purchased by Anafiel Delaunay, a nobleman with very a special mission...and the first one to recognize who and what she is: one pricked by Kushiel's Dart, chosen to forever experience pain and pleasure as one.

Phèdre is trained equally in the courtly arts and the talents of the bedchamber, but, above all, the ability to observe, remember, and analyze. Almost as talented a spy as she is courtesan, Phèdre stumbles upon a plot that threatens the very foundations of her homeland. Treachery sets her on her path; love and honor goad her further. And in the doing, it will take her to the edge of despair...and beyond. Hateful friend, loving enemy, beloved assassin; they can all wear the same glittering mask in this world, and Phèdre will get but one chance to save all that she holds dear.

Beauty by Robin McKinley (1978)

Beauty has never liked her nickname. She is thin and awkward; it is her two sisters who are the beautiful ones. But what she lacks in appearance, she can perhaps make up for in courage. When her father comes home with a tale of an enchanted castle in the forest and the terrible promise he had to make to the Beast who lives there, Beauty knows she must travel to the castle, a prisoner of her own free will. Her father insists that he will not let her go, but she responds, "Cannot a Beast be tamed?"

The Immortals Quartet by Tamora Pierce (1992-1996)

Thirteen-year-old Daine has always had a special connection with animals, but only when she's forced to leave home does she realize it's more than a knack--it's magic. With this wild magic, not only can Daine speak to animals, but she can also make them obey her. Daine takes a job handling horses for the Queen's Riders, where she meets the master mage Numair and becomes his student.

Under Numair's guidance, Daine explores the scope of her magic. But she encounters other beings, too, who are not so gentle. These terrifying creatures, called Immortals, have been imprisoned in the Divine Realms for the past four hundred years--but now someone has broken the barrier. And it's up to Daine and her friends to defend their world from an Immortal attack.

The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander (1964-1968)

Taran wanted to be a hero, and looking after a pig wasn't exactly heroic, even though Hen Wen was an oracular pig. But the day that Hen Wen vanished, Taran was led into an enchanting and perilous world. With his band of followers, he confronted the Horned King and his terrible Cauldron-Born. These were the forces of evil, and only Hen Wen knew the secret of keeping the kingdom of Prydain safe from them. But who would find her first?

Seven Realms by Cinda Williams Chima (2009-2012)

Times are hard in the mountain city of Fellsmarch. Reformed thief Han Alister will do almost anything to eke out a living for his family. The only thing of value he has is something he can't sell—the thick silver cuffs he's worn since birth. They're clearly magicked—as he grows, they grow, and he's never been able to get them off.

One day, Han and his clan friend, Dancer, confront three young wizards setting fire to the sacred mountain of Hanalea. Han takes an amulet from Micah Bayar, son of the High Wizard, to keep him from using it against them. Soon Han learns that the amulet has an evil history—it once belonged to the Demon King, the wizard who nearly destroyed the world a millennium ago. With a magical piece that powerful at stake, Han knows that the Bayars will stop at nothing to get it back.

Meanwhile, Raisa ana'Marianna, princess heir of the Fells, has her own battles to fight. She's just returned to court after three years of freedom in the mountains—riding, hunting, and working the famous clan markets. Raisa wants to be more than an ornament in a glittering cage. She aspires to be like Hanalea—the legendary warrior queen who killed the Demon King and saved the world. But her mother has other plans for her...

The Seven Realms tremble when the lives of Hans and Raisa collide, fanning the flames of the smoldering war between clans and wizards.

#best fantasy book #poll #the liveship traders #dragon rider #the once and future witches #the bone season #iron widow #kushiel's legacy #beauty #the immortals quartet #the chronicles of prydain #seven realms

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be-missed · 1 year ago

Text

Not Strong Enough (Chap 6)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: curse words.

A/N: uhm, hi thanks for waiting, enjoy!

Words: 2.6K

Masterlist

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5

______________________________________________________________

Chap 6

"What the fuck is happening?" Ava said as she enters the breakroom, Y/N is breathing with the help of a paper bag, Beatrice on her side guiding her how to properly breathe, and Camila in front of them with her phone out capturing every moment that Y/N is losing.

"You should've entered earlier Ava, Y/N was panicking because Y/N is going to have dinner with Jenna's family tonight" Camila exclaimed while checking all the photos that she have earlier of Y/N.

Y/N then crumpled the paper bag and throw it to Camila "You asshole, are you really my friend? You should be helping me!" while Camila just laughed and said "Beatrice is by your side, and helping you breathe is a one man job anyway" smirking to herself while Y/N answered "Okay, that's it, I don't give you the permission to talk to Jenna."

And as if on cue, the breakroom door then opened and Jenna entered.

"Who am I not talking to?" Jenna asked Y/N with a raised eyebrow and a smile. Y/N then started to look at Bea while Ava kicked Y/N under the table and whispered "Get your shit together."

"Hey" Y/N said while she waved to Jenna and invited her to seat in their table. The girl who just entered put a paper bag in the middle of the table, "Here are uhm, some cookies that I baked earlier, just a small treat for you all."

Ava started to open the bag and bring out the container with Beatrice helping her, Camila is still standing in front of them and said "So Jenna, as I promised you last time, I'm gonna show you my Wednesday Dance."

Jenna then looked at Y/N who was shaking her head and said "Please say no..." Jenna doesn't have the chance to answer when they heard the Bloody Mary Sped up Version in Camila's phone.

Camila stood up in front of them, tapping her foot with the beat. Beatrice was shaking her head and trying to not laugh, Ava was eating a cookie and enjoying the act, while Y/N landed her hand on Jenna's thigh and whispered "You don't have to do this" with a sad smile.

I'll dance, dance, dance,

With my hands, hands, hands

Camila started to dance, Jenna was nodding her head to the beat, Beatrice palmed her face, and Ava is clapping. Y/N's phone vibrated and got a message from their co-surgeon that all of the residents are needed in the surgery room.

Above my head, head, head like Jesus said

"Uhm, Bea & Ava, I think we are needed in the surgery room, we need to get going" Y/N said tapping the table to get the attention of the three of them, "Okay, show is over Camila, you can wait for us in here so that we can go home together" Beatrice said, while walking out with Ava.

Y/N looked at Jenna and said "Hey, will you be okay here? I'll be going back to you after, okay?" Jenna then nodded and replies "Duty calls, yes, I'll be waiting for you. I think me and Camila might bond for now."

With what she heard, Camila jumped up and down. But before Y/N reached the door, Jenna pulled Y/N and kissed her on her cheek and said "Work well."

Jenna then went back to the seat and Camila is side eyeing her, "What? You are creeping me out" Jenna said, "What was that for?" Camila asked the other girl with her eye brows raised, "Nothing, Y/N told me friends kiss each other's cheek so we just kinda did... for fun..." Jenna answered, not really telling the truth that she just wants to kiss Y/N, but Y/N did tell her about that so...

"Okay, friends... So did Y/N showed you her collection of her funko pops?" Camila asked Jenna, "Uhm no, actually I haven't been into her house" and that surprised Camila, "WHAT? She have all of the funkos of your character and what do you mean you haven't been to her house?"

"Funkos... of all of my characters?", Jenna thought, "Why would Y/N have funkos of my characters?" Jenna asked, "Well in the first place, she is like one of your biggest fan, she also went to some of your movie premiers but not lucky enough to get your autograph, and like she have a massive crush on you ever since, so like..." Camila ended with a shrug, Jenna was just listening to this new information that she is getting.

Camila then continued "Yeah, and we were like so surprised when you released a Nighttime Routine with Harper's Bazaar and Y/N was like, viewed that a hundred times and was like so dreamy about it. You know, I thought she knew that because like, you know, you are her friend so I thought you'll advise her with that, but I guess not since she fucking screamed at my ear when she refreshed her YouTube."

There is only one thing in Jenna's mind, "What the fuck?" and as for the Harper Bazaar's video, she saw Y/N all smiley while watching Melissa, so she contacted her agent if she can also do that video, and Jenna did that because she was just jealous on how Y/N is all smiley watching the video, before Jenna gets to ask Camila again, the three surgeon enters the breakroom.

Y/N went towards Jenna and asked "Do you wanna go home? Your mom said she'll be with your dad and you can come home with me..." and Jenna just nodded her head and said their good bye's to the other doctors.

Inside the car, Jenna is looking at Y/N and its creeping Y/N somehow, since she feels that Jenna is hiding something, "Why are you looking at me like that?" Y/N asked, "Nothing, I just learned something new today, and also, can I come to your house?" Jenna asked.

Y/N stepped on the break, "I'm sorry, uhm... Yeah sure, we can have dinner in my house next time" Jenna accepted the answer "That sounds fun, I can't wait" and smiled at Y/N.

---

Getting home, Y/N got acquainted with Jenna's family, seating at the sofa talking to Jenna's dad, going to the kitchen to help Jenna's mom, running around to chase Jenna's nieces and nephews, talks about social issues with Jenna's siblings.

Jenna pulled Y/N next to the stairs, away from everyone, "Are you good?" Y/N asked, "Yes, I just pulled you to the side to let you breathe, you're like a talking machine out there" Jenna answered with a smile, appreciating the effort that Y/N puts to get to know her family.

"Well, I mean your family is nice and they are fun so, I can't say that I'm getting tired, I actually enjoy it" Y/N says and leans her back to the wall waiting for Jenna to say something, but instead, Jenna just walked closer to her and smiled at Y/N.

Y/N feels a big hole inside her stomach is forming while Jenna just situated herself between Y/N's legs and rest both of her arms in Y/N's shoulder. "What are you doing?" Y/N swallowed and asked Jenna with a shake in her voice, "Nothing, just situating myself" Jenna answered and assisted Y/N's hand to rest in her hips.

Jenna rounded her arms tightly into Y/N's neck and played with the baby hair in her nape. Jenna stared intently to those beautiful eyes that she adored ever since Y/N greeted her in the hospital. Y/N's breathing becomes quick, with her proximity to Jenna.

"Hey relax, it's just me and you" Jenna said quietly and tries to help Y/N to slow down her breathing "Relax, it's just me and you, yeah?"

After a few seconds, Y/N relaxes her arms and tightens it hold around Jenna's waist that made them closer than they were. "I like this" Y/N said that made Jenna smile and said "Then probably you'll like this more."

Before Y/N gets to process what Jenna said, the other girl kissed her in the lips that surprised Y/N, she was like a stone for a second and Jenna felt that Y/N is not reciprocating the kiss, so she started to pull away, not until Y/N's arms tightened and kissed Jenna back.

Jenna's pushed Y/N's head towards her and tilts her head to make the kiss deeper and keep Y/N in her arms and her lips longer. Y/N bit Jenna's lip and pulled away slightly util their foreheads are touching.

"Dinner's ready, come to the table now!" Jenna's mom yelled from the kitchen.

Y/N and Jenna are just staring at each other with a lingering smile plastered in their faces.

A knock on the wall beside the stairs stopped them from their own bubble, "Girls, dinner is ready, come on."

The whole family started to sit in their places, while Y/N and Jenna got situated, Aliyah said "Y/N, i think your lipstick is smudged, here wipe it" and handed Y/N a tissue with a smirk in her lips, and the whole family looked at Y/N looking like a deer caught in headlights while Jenna reached for the tissue and wiped her own lipstick in Y/N's lips.

"Okay, let's dig in" Jenna's mother said to ease the situation.

The whole dinner was filled with chatters, laughter, and banters with each of them enjoying the food and the company of each other. To note, Jenna kept her left hand situated into Y/N's lap the whole dinner and eats with her right hand that made Y/N's heart beats so fast.

After the movie, everyone gets up and started to say their good nights and went to their room, as for Y/N, she started to walk towards the door and said her good bye's and thank you's to the family.

"Are you leaving?" Jenna asked while Y/N is holding her hand, "Sad to say, but yes, I need to sleep to" Y/N said with a sad smile "Can you like stay? Please" Jenna said and squeezed Y/N's hand "...please" Jenna added and she sounded so small.

Y/N answered "Sure, I would love to" and the two of them went up and straight to Jenna's room, "I don't have any clothes though" Y/N stated and Jenna answered "Don't worry you can wear mine."

The both of them got inside Jenna's room and Y/N's eyes roam, trying to embed every detail that she can see "Here, think my clothes can fit you?" Jenna said while handling Y/N her oversize clothes "Yeah, your clothes would totally fit me." Y/N replied with a smile and went inside the bathroom to shower and change.

After minutes, Y/N went out and saw Jenna was now under the covers using her phone, "So you're a right side of the bed sleeper?" Y/N asked that made Jenna look up, and wow oh wow, Y/N looks so cute in her clothes, and also the first time Jenna saw Y/N with house clothes. Y/N looks soft and small without her white coat and her formal clothes on, Jenna thought.

Y/N got situated beside Jenna. The two just looked at each other, wiggling their eyebrows at each other and smiling, "What?" Jenna said "Nothing" Y/N answered.

Jenna seated closer to Y/N and reached for Y/N's hand, "About earlier... I uhm. I'm not sorry for kissing you, just so you know. I have been wanting to do that ever since" Jenna said, "It's okay, I'm not sorry too" Y/N said, so what Jenna did is to lean in and kiss Y/N again, which Y/N gladly reciprocated, but before everything got out of hand, Jenna pulled away and remembered what Camila said to her earlier and plan to tease Y/N.

"So, what's your favorite show of mine?" Jenna asked with a smirk, "Huh?" Y/N played it off and tried to act like she doesn't know it "Camila told me earlier that you like my movies and you have a crush on me" Jenna added. If Y/N was not red earlier, well she is definitely now, heat creeping up her cheeks and pulling Jenna's blanket to cover her face.

"Come on don't be shy now, you just kissed me" Jenna stated as she situated herself on top of Y/N and started o tickle the other girl. Fits of laughter can be heard, "Okay, Okay stop please" Y/N said while giggling "I'll tell you my favorite show of yours" Y/N added.

Stopping her movements, Jenna helped Y/N to fix her hair, "Ok, so what's your favorite?" Jenna asked, "Iron Man 3, I really like how you sat the whole scene" Y/N stated, and Jenna slapped Y/N's arm and exclaimed "Be serious oh my god!" Y/N laughed and answered "It's The Fallout, honestly, I love Vada."

It surprised Jenna since the answer she got commonly are Scream or Wednesday, so she again asked Y/N "What makes you love Vada then?" Y/N shrugged and answered "Well first of all, she is a trauma survivor, and I loved how the movie showed a different perspective of how a teenager cope to such trauma" and Jenna did agree to Y/N, "But most of all, Vada is a girl kisser so..." Y/N added.

"You can't be really serious, yeah?" Jenna answered trying to get off of Y/N, but Y/N held Jenna's hip to stay in place "Stay on top of me, I'm starting to like your weight on top of me" Y/N said with a loving smile.

With that, Jenna situated herself and lay herself down on top of Y/N.

"On a serious note, I'm really just curious" Y/N started caressing Jenna's back "I don't know, I just need to be sure okay. Don't laugh at me please" Jenna lift herself up and look at Y/N "Please just say it."

"Do you like... like me or I don't know, I mean, do you like me as you know... do you like envision me as your girl friend or something, I mean not to jump into conclusions, but like you know, I just want to know like, are we dating? Or like a winter thing?" Y/N stuttered and Jenna just looked at her.

"I just brought you to our family dinner, yeah?" Jenna asked.

Y/N nods,

"I hold your hand and rubs your thigh at dinner?" Jenna asked.

Y/N nods,

"I kissed you, in the lips, hard, and deep before dinner, yes?" Jenna aksed.

Y/N nods,

"I invited you inside my room, let you wear my clothes, I lay on top of you, kisses you again, and listen to you talk, yes?" Jenna asked for the last time.

And Y/N nods for the last time.

Jenna sighs and sits, "Yes, I like you Y/N. I also want to be your girlfriend, and yes, we are dating, if you want to. I mean, if you don't want to dat-"

Before Jenna finished her sentence, Y/N kissed her and yelled "YES! Oh my god" Y/N is now doing her happy dance while Jenna just smiled at the girl "Okay let's get to sleep now."

Y/N lay down Jenna on top of her, "Good night" Y/N whispered and Jenna answered back "Good night and sweet dreams" and kissed Y/N's collar bones.

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 7

A/N: FINALLY I FINISHED THIS. Hope you enjoy! Open for Comments and Suggestions. To those people who leave comments on my work, I really appreciate you, thank you! Also added a word count just because I feel like this is my current longest story (really not sure, I just feel like it, lol).

What's your favourite show/movie of Jenna?

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #fanfic #fiction #jenna ortega imagine

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