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cinnamorollcrybaby · 1 month ago

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Mama, I’m in love with a criminal 4

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, prisoner!Sukuna, modern au, no curse au, dead dove, vivid descriptions of violence including murder and sexual assault, dark romance trope, angst, read at your own discretion

Synopsis: Sukuna is in prison because of you. He's ordered to undergo weekly counseling sessions. Talking to his counselor about you, it's apparent that his obsession with you is quite concerning.

An: Reminder, this story is dark. Take care of your mental health first. Sexual assault will be briefly mentioned, but it will not be written about in detail. Sukuna is diagnosed with borderline personality disorder at the end of this session. I want to make it clear that it is not my intention to offend anyone with this diagnosis or demonize this diagnosis. It is used to make him feel more real, and it furthers the plot. Hope you guys enjoy… only one last part after this one <3.

Session one. | Session two. | Session three. | Session four.

The counselor hadn't had time to do any more digging into Sukuna's case files this week. It was the end of the year — holidays were coming up, and that meant that annual paperwork on all of his patients were due.

His caseload was becoming too much to manage all on his own. He was thankful that the jail was finally consulting him about hiring a social worker to help out with the workload.

Checking Sukuna's chart briefly, the counselor inhaled sharply. It was finally time to talk about the crime that landed him in prison. Sure, the counselor could drag this out. He could talk about every petty theft or assault case Sukuna had been charged with, but those were pointless to talk about in the grand scheme of things.

As if on cue, a large buzzer sounded, and Sukuna was shoved into the room with the counselor before promptly being locked inside. He was shackled as always, but his demeanor was different today.

He didn't have that calloused grin or careless attitude. He sat down on the couch with a small grunt before immediately laying his head back against the piece of furniture. His throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly.

It was as if Sukuna knew what the counselor was going to bring up today.

"How are you holding up this week, Sukuna?" The counselor asked. Normally, they'd skip pleasantries, but the counselor sensed that Sukuna needed some priming before he got to talking.

"How am I holding up?" Sukuna echoed with a humorless laugh before shaking his head. "Don't ask stupid fucking questions. This is a prison not a 10 hour shift at a fucking factory."

Well, so much for priming.

"You don't want to talk about her today?" The counselor asked, tapping his pen against his paper. "Or is there something you're not wanting to relive."

"I can talk about her until my lungs give out." Sukuna muttered in a pained tone. He rubbed his face with his hands, cuffs clinking around in the process. He groaned as he put his hands down. "Tell me what you think I don't want to relive." He finally demanded, turning the tables on the counselor.

The counselor widened his eyes as he was put on the spot. He immediately avoided Sukuna's lifeless glare. He was definitely testing him right now — seeing if he kept up on his homework.

"You're not afraid of reliving your own pain. You don't want to relive mouse's pain." The counselor finally muttered out, using his knowledge of Sukuna to help guide him through his analysis.

Sukuna grunted in response, and the counselor took it as approval to keep going. "You weren't there to protect her. You feel like it's a failure on your end that what happened to her happened."

Sukuna's fists clenched, and his jaw tightened, but this didn't feel like his typical anger. It wasn't directed at anyone else besides himself.

"You got there a little too late. You saw what was happening to her, and you went into a blind rage. Your normal brutal, methodical, unique style to killing your victims went out the window. He needed to die right then, didn't he?" The counselor pressed on. He kept his hands on his lap to defend himself in case he said anything that teetered the line. Though, there really was no defending himself against Sukuna's hulking figure.

"He didn't deserve to live." Sukuna's voice was a low growl. His heart was pounding against his ribcage as he was reminded of his last moments with you before he incarceration.

The prisoner suddenly reached out, and the counselor flinched far back into his seat upon reflex, but Sukuna was faster. He grabbed the counselor by his dress shirt, and he patted around on his body. "I know you record these sessions, doc. I want this next part to be off the record." He demanded as he continually searched for a recording device.

The counselor tried fighting him off, but Sukuna was still stronger while he was handcuffed. "Fine-! Here! All you had to do was ask for this part to be off the record." The counselor shouted before he threw his pen over to Sukuna.

His pen had a secret recording device hidden inside, and it was promptly cut off when Sukuna snapped the pen in half without a second thought. He then threw it at the wall, ensuring that nothing would be listening in on what he was about to say.

Sitting back in his seat, he let out another stressed sigh. His twin brother's murder was a well kept secret thanks to his skills of covering up evidence, but this was his best kept secret. It physically pained him to say the words out loud.

"Mouse wanted a normal... domestic life, and I wanted to give her whatever she asked for. I started an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop, and I worked at a bike shop on the side so she could focus on figuring out what she wanted to do with life." He started off slowly. The counselor was still rattled from their physical altercation, but he was already enthralled by Sukuna's story telling abilities.

"I didn't care what I did as long as I got to be in her life. Coming home after sixteen hour shifts felt like paradise when I got to slide into bed next to her. She was the only piece of heaven that I'll ever see." Sukuna went on. His eyes were aimed at the broken pen in the corner, fully reliving what it was like to just be yours.

"Your tattoos... those came from your apprenticeship?" The counselor asked, finally taking the time to ask about the markings that covered Sukuna's body and face.

The prisoner looked at his arms and shook his head. "No, these came from over the years." He said as he slowly rose from the chair. He unbuttoned the jumpsuit and shoved it down around his waist to reveal a white undershirt that covered his broad, muscular torso.

Sukuna clearly had nothing else better to do other than work out while he was incarcerated.

The marking covered his neck, shoulders, arms, back, and chest. The counselor marveled at them for a minute, wondering how long Sukuna had to sit in a chair for all of them to be completed.

"As a gift for finishing my apprenticeship, Mouse and I got tattoos together." Sukuna explained before he raised his undershirt up. Right there on his right ribcage — a detailed portrait style tattoo of just your eyes stared back at the counselor.

Your eyes alone could tell a million words. They were gates directly to your soul. The counselor didn't know what you looked like. Your face had been scrubbed from every news outlet that reported on Sukuna's case, and the counselor couldn't remember if he saw your face in court or not.

"Does she have your eyes tattooed as well?" The counselor asked. It was the safer option because he was sure that Sukuna would probably kill him if he complimented your eyes.

"She had this-" he gestured to the tattoo that was placed on his forehead directly between his eyes, "tattooed on her back, and I tattooed my name across her ribcage in the same place I have her eyes tattooed." Sukuna explained before he redressed himself and sat back down.

"She also has a tiny mouse tattooed behind her ear. All of her work is done by me." He explained.

"Wait- You didn't come up with mouse on the spot?" The counselor asked. "That nickname actually has any meaning?"

Sukuna snickered from the counselor's assumptions. "Nah. When we were little and she wasn't talking to me yet, I use to tease her and say she was as quiet as a church mouse."

The counselor gave a small laugh, and he allowed for the silence to fill the room once more, signaling that Sukuna should get back on topic.

"I was working late most nights, and I told her it'd be worth it once I started making some real money. I just wanted to give her the life she never had. I could've provided her with peace." Sukuna explained, his eyes going back dull as all the fun was sucked right back out of the conversation.

"One night, she wanted to surprise me with my favorite dinner. I always told her not to go out alone at night. She usually waited for me to get off work if she needed to go to the store, but I guess she was worried about burdening me... foolish girl." He muttered as he stared down at his palms.

The counselor swallowed harshly, knowing what was coming next. He normally wasn't so emotionally invested in his client's lives, but Sukuna had a way of drawing him in. He was rooting for you even if he knew the result of what happened that night.

"She wasn't stupid though. Mouse was resourceful. She had a heart of gold, but she wasn't naive. She took one of my blade's with her, and she concealed it in her purse." Sukuna explained as his hands picked at the unhealed scabs on his knuckles once again.

"You don't have to go into detail. I'm honestly not sure if I could stomach that-" The counselor admitted. He knew it was unprofessional. He was supposed to be able to shoulder his clients' trauma, but he just didn't know if he could live with Sukuna's version of what happened to you.

"On her way home, that fucking... coward grabbed her. I don't- I don't know how far he got. She wouldn't tell me. I don't know if it was more for my sake or for hers." A shaky breath left his lips. He was grinding his teeth so hard that the counselor was even cringing.

"She managed to send me her location, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I just left the shop — didn't bother locking up or even telling my client where I was going. By the time I got there, my little mouse's clothes were ripped. She was a mess. He was laid out on the ground. The motherfucker died from a few stab wounds, how fucking pathetic."

"What." The counselor said as his jaw dropped. All this time, he was told that Sukuna was only caught because he killed your assailant in a crime of passion, but that wasn't the truth. He had never been baffled like this for his entire career.

"Mouse isn't some defenseless damsel in distress. You think I'd let her walk around if I hadn't taught her self defense?" Sukuna asked as he looked up at the counselor. His jaw was tight and his gaze was narrow. "I'd be damned if I let her walk around without anyway to defend herself after the shit that went down with her dad and his temper."

The counselor stayed silent. Everything he had thought about Sukuna's final murder had been a lie. He didn't kill the poor bastard out of a crime of passion. You had killed your attacker, and Sukuna took the fall for it.

Everything he had done thus far was to protect you — all of it. It was all for you.

"How did any of this end up pinned on you?" The counselor carefully asked while he was still trying to wrack his brain. A part of him wondered if Sukuna was lying, but there was no way Sukuna would lie and risk you getting into trouble for a crime that he committed.

"I have been involved in the justice system for so long. I know how crooked everything is. The district attorneys and judges aren't trying cases fairly and protecting the balance of the justice system. They're doing whatever they can to appease the politicians who have them in their back pockets. They'll sentence a serial rapist to 25 years in jail, but they'll sentence a woman defending herself from a rapist to life in jail. There's no justice in this system."

"I wasn't going to let that shit happen to mouse. I wasn't going to let her name be ruined because she defended herself and did what she had to do. I wasn't going to let her trauma be drug through court. She has so much ahead of her, and I-" Sukuna paused to take a ragged breath. It had been a long time since he had spewed out words so fast.

This was the first time he had ever been able to talk about this to anyone. Everyone fully believes that Sukuna happened to catch the guy assaulting you, and he killed him right then and there. No one knew that he hadn't been there to protect you. You had to resort to protecting yourself, and he fucking loathed the thought of you having to bear the weight of that sick son of a bitch's death on your shoulders.

For two years, he carried this weight around. It had been two years since he was sentenced. Two years since he last saw you.

He let a tear slip past his cheek. Just one -- he didn't bother to wipe it away. It was gone as soon as it had appeared.

"Take your time." The counselor murmured empathetically. This was a major break through with Sukuna. It was something that proved he wasn't a sociopath.

Sukuna could feel emotions. Perhaps, he felt them more than everyone else did. His anger was immediately rage. He was never just sad. Instead, he'd plummet into an unbeatable depression. His happiness felt like pure euphoria, and when he loved, he loved unconditionally hard.

He used you as an anchor for his tidal waves of emotions, basing them on how you acted — the girl who didn't speak and wore a mask around other people. You two were truly made for each other.

If soulmates existed, you two would be the leading example.

Sukuna took another ragged breath, taking just another second to collect his thoughts. "She has so much ahead of her, and I only had her." He managed to grit out.

"Before she could even think about trying to stop me, I ripped the gloves off that I had been using to tattoo my client. I grabbed the blade from her, and I stabbed him 32 times. I brutalized his body to make sure neither the coroner nor the forensic pathologist would be able to distinguish her stab wounds from my own." He explained solemnly. His eyes were void of any emotion while talking about what he did to your assaulter.

"The police were looking for anything to pin on me anyways. They always had thought I got off easy on my juvenile cases, and they suspected I had something to do with Jin's disappearance. They just couldn't prove anything. So, when this opportunity fell into their lap, they ran with it."

"Why didn't you try to hide the body to get away with it?" The counselor asked. Sukuna's crimes were those of cold calculation, and the fact that he made sure to strip off his gloves to taint the blade with his fingerprints proved that he was still very calculated with this murder as well.

"When he grabbed her-" Sukuna's fists tightened in his lap, "he pulled her into dark alleyway at the end of town. Bastard just thought he was going to assault her and leave her stranded in the alley- There was no way for me to move his body without being seen or caught on camera."

"I didn't try to argue when they came for me the next day. I would've willingly surrendered myself if it kept mouse out of trouble. They booked me into the county jail within hours, and I took a plea deal on my second court appearance." He explained as was back to picking at the scabs on his knuckles. They were likely never going to heal if he kept picking at them, making them bleed.

"Why didn't you go for a trial?" The counselor asked. There were ways for Sukuna to be proven not guilty. He probably would've qualified for at least a lesser charge of second degree murder or even manslaughter.

"I knew they'd try to subpoena mouse to testify. They'd drag up her trauma and make a spectacle of her in court. I wasn't going to let them try to convince her that what happened to her wasn't anything less than assault, and I wasn't going to let them retraumatize her." Sukuna spoke firmly, shaking his head.

The counselor honestly found it admirable of him. Most "Bonnie and Clyde" killers would actually turn on each other to get themselves out of trouble, but Sukuna would bear the weight of your crime on his shoulders, and he'd still find other ways to protect you from any negative consequence that he could.

"So, I took a plea deal. I plead guilty to the murder and was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole with weekly 20-minute counseling sessions. In exchange, the district attorney made sure mouse's name was scrubbed from every court document, social media outlet, and news source. They had to act like she was in the witness protection program." Sukuna explained with a sigh. It was another way to protect you.

The counselor felt strangely empty. Sukuna's and your story was tragic. A boy who fell madly in love with a silent girl and vowed to protect her from anything. Did he belong in prison for this? Does this excuse him killing your dad? Did this excuse him slaughtering his own flesh and blood? How do they move on from here?

"You were a sensation in court... had your own little fanbase and everything." The counselor hollowly mused, remembering the young women that piled into the courtroom to catch a glimpse of Sukuna. They had idolized him for what he had done. Plus... he was handsome in the most sinful way possible.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue with annoyance. "The same bitches who praised me for what I had done didn't respect what I was trying to protect. They're always trying to find and leak mouse's name to the public. They don't give a fuck about me or her. They just think our story is perfect for some shitty dark romance novel."

The room fell into a tense silence once more. Neither of the two men knew how to move on from this.

The silence was finally broken with a correctional officer's voice booming through the office. "Ryomen! Your time is up!" He shouted as his fist connected against the door multiple times.

The counselor sighed as Sukuna wordlessly rose from his seat. This session had been worse than either of them could've predicted. "Take care, Sukuna. We will not meet again next week due to the holidays, but I'll see you in two weeks."

The prisoner grunted in response while still walking towards the door. The loud buzzer filled the room once more, and he was let out.

It didn't feel right to watch Sukuna walk back to his pod. The justice system had failed you as a woman, but he was willing to shield you from any harm that threatened to come your way.

𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝'𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚜: 𝚁𝚂

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟼

𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜: 𝟹𝟶𝟷.𝟾𝟹 (𝙵𝟼𝟶.𝟹) 𝙱𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚂𝙼-𝟻)

𝚂𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚜: 𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳], 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕, 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 [𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳]

𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙲𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗.

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obsessivevoidkitten · 7 months ago

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Ghosted

Male Jock Yandere Ghost x Gender Neutral Nerd Ghost Reader

CW: Reader death, ghosts, spirit world, manipulative yandere, stalking, general yandere behavior, consensual sex

Word Count: 801

(Trying to get back into the habit of writing, this is the result, hope you like it! I consider a demented ghost as still being a monster and therefore still teratophilia.)

You had died in college. One moment, you were being your nerdy self, rummaging through your binder, and the next, you were on the ground. You didn't really remember much, all very fuzzy. Was it a stroke? A brain aneurysm? You had no idea.

Once you were brain dead, though, you stepped from your body and appeared on the ghostly plane. A fog filled realm that somewhat mirrored the world of the living. Though spirits could make alterations, there were spaces untouched by the activities of the still living.

There were a lot of ghosts. Many of them wandered aimlessly or were stuck in a loop of denial, acting out behaviors as if they were still alive. Others lashed aggressively, unable to regain their grip on their sanity.

You mostly kept to yourself. Like Jonesy taught you. He was a former jock about your age when he died in the late 80s. He still wore his letterman jacket. You weren't limited to the clothes you died in, but you figured it was a symbol of how he was still attached to his old life.

Jonesy had taught you a lot of things. He had pretty much been your mentor since you had died. He was there waiting when you passed. He said he had sensed someone might die as he was wandering the halls of the college, where he had also died years ago.

Jonesy said he was stuck in a loop. Being alone had made him lose his mental stability. But when he sensed you were about to die, it snapped him out of it. He said you saved him, so he wanted to get to know you and help you navigate the land of the dead.

Plus, being together would help prevent the two of you from getting mentally frail.

It was a bit of a paradox. Jonesy taught you to avoid most spirits, but communication and relationships were essential to staying sane.

"You just have to know the right types to befriend. Many of the people here have a darkness in them and can drag you down if you're not careful."

He also told you the other secret to remaining stable.

"You have to keep busy, do stuff. Don't get too bored."

There was a surprising amount you could do as a ghost. You could go to stores and yoink whatever you wanted, eat whatever you wanted, play video games, there was even a ghost version of the internet!

Getting infinite free popcorn at the movies was your favorite thing. Jonesy always did that lame pretend yawn thing that ended with his arm wrapped around you. It was nice, though. Made you feel safe. You had been touch starved in life.

The transition to him being your boyfriend was so seemless and natural that you barely noticed that it had happened. You had never stopped any of his advances. Cuddling you, holding you, and smooching your cheek.

You didn't even question it when chaste kisses led to him kissing you hungrily before carefully taking off your clothing, like he was removing the wrapping from something delicate.

Soon you found yourself laying ass up on his bed with him pounding into you, drinking in all your lusty moans and unabashed calling of his name.

He gripped your hips firmly as he came deeply into you; the pleasure made you see stars. His girthy cock stretched you wonderfully. You felt so lucky and special that this jock spirit had taken an interest in you, a lowly nerd.

Jonesy felt lucky too. He hadn't been in a loop. For a year before your death, he had been haunting you, It was difficult to peek into the living world, but once he found you, he was addicted.

He loved watching you read books, study, and watch anime. He especially loved watching you shower, fervently jerking hinself off as he did so.

It wasn't enough though. He needed to have you with him! You had been so perfect for him. You were kindred souls in a way. You were always alone and starved for attention. You'd fall for his affections easily, and you wouldn't just crossover beyond the purgatory the two of you were now in, you were too depressed for that.

Influencing people who were still alive was nearly impossible, but decades of being alone had made Jonesy angry and bitter. He used those emotions as fuel and tried many times to trip you down the stairs or get you to stroll into traffic absentmindedly. Finally, the jock was successful in busting something in your head.

At long last, you were with him. As he held you tightly, after making love several more times, he knew he'd be able to keep you there forever and he'd never have to be alone again.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere ghost #yandere x reader #ghost reader #yandere boyfriend #gender neutral reader #male yandere x gn reader #Yandere oc x reader #My OCs #My OC Jonesy #yandere situation #yandere scenario #yandere jock

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ssahotchnerr · 8 months ago

Note

Could you write something where someone compliments Hotch for "babysitting" and "helping out" when hes out with his kids and he gets all 😑😑 do you mean parenting my children?

standard parenting

omg LOL cw; dad!aaron, reader is referred to as mom, a ton of domestic fluff, very light suggestiveness (hehe reader and aaron are soo in love <3) wc; 1.2k

"Jack." Aaron moved forward, spotting his son as he climbed up a curved ladder, at the ready if he were to suddenly slip. "Careful."

"I am." He took the last, big step, his hands gripping the supporting bars and landing on the platform safely. "I've done this two times already Dad."

"Help your sister down the slide, okay? I'll meet the two of you at the bottom."

"Okay." He confirmed, beelining down a rattly bridge in the direction of Ellie.

It was approximately 3 pm on a Tuesday, the park filled with the afternoon rush of children freshly out of school. A doctor's appointment had brought Aaron out of the BAU early, and after picking up Jack from school, Ellie from preschool, he figured there was no better way to burn off energy than the playground.

Hopefully it allowed for a quiet, relaxing night at home, with both kids in bed at a decent time.

Aaron stood at the bottom of the slide, peering upwards and squinting - he had regretfully left his sunglasses in the car. Ellie stood at the top, looking a bit lost once her turn was next, the slide intimidatingly large for a newly four-year-old.

"Jack's coming, honey."

It took some convincing; Aaron reassuring her he was right there, there to catch her if she overshot into the mulch. Jack would be right behind her. Further hesitation on her end: Do you want Jack to go first? No. Are you sure you want to go down? Yes.

Finally down came Ellie, giggling profusely and not paying a mind to the static the slide caused (Aaron mentally winced at the sound). Jack followed soon after.

"See, there you go." Aaron praised, hands moving to his hips.

"Again, please please please." Ellie whined gently, looking up at Aaron with her identically adjacent brown eyes. It was something she was beginning to master, the puppy dog look that could cause him to cave within seconds.

He was in for it.

"Sure pumpkin." Aaron grinned down at his little piggy-tail headed daughter. "Just a few more times though, Mom's waiting at home."

"C'mon Ellie. I'll race you." Jack suggested, kicking up dirt as he bolted off without waiting for a distinct answer. She ran after him, as fast as her small legs could carry her.

Aaron called out after him, "The stairs, Jack."

"I know!"

"Cute kids."

A mother - Aaron inferred - commented, falling alongside him. Aaron's eyes continued to track the two of them, ensuring they remained together and stayed far away from any arched ladders. They dashed up the stairs, into the depths of the play structure.

Aaron offered her a friendly smile in return, "Thank you."

"It's nice to see someone so attentive for a change." She huffed, notably an impressed breath. "Most babysitters just sit on the bench on their cell phone."

Aaron's expression dropped; a mix of confusion and dumbfound, his smile gradually fading. The only thing going through his mind: I'm sorry, what?

"Well, I'm not like most babysitters." He frowned, pressing his lips together and eyebrows drawing into a line.

"Good for you." She commended, not taking the hint. A child called out to her, causing her to move forward. "See ya."

She left, but scowl on his face stayed.

It hadn't put him in a bad mood, but rather, a dulled mood. The inference could've been an honest mistake, it most likely was, but it settled funny within him.

Only at Ellie's, 'Daddy look!' did his face brighten up. For them.

"Hi Momma!" Ellie bounded into the kitchen, nearly crashing into you and smiling from ear to ear. "We're home!"

Jack added to her status report, voices intertwining. "Dad took us to the park!"

"It looks like you two had fun." You grinned, using the pad of your thumb to swipe away an unblended bout of sunscreen on the side of Jack's nose. You also took note of his grass stained sweats, and the dirt scuff on Ellie's knees.

"We did! Jackers helped me down the slide and Daddy pushed me on the swings-"

"No one pushed me on the swings." Aaron commented, his hand finding the small of your back momentarily as he brushed past.

"That's 'cause you're big." Ellie made a face at her father.

"Can we go again on Saturday?" Jack asked, "I wanna bring my soccer ball."

"We'll have to see what we're up to, bud," Aaron answered, also fetching him a cup of cold water. The car ride consisted of Jack stating how thirsty he was, and how he refused to drink the lukewarm water his bottle held. "But I don't see why not."

Meanwhile, Ellie plopped herself onto the floor, pulling off her shoes and dumping the remnants of lingering mulch onto the floor.

"Hey hey hey let's not do that." You said, your nose scrunching lightly too; the normal kid-stink that followed after an afternoon spent in the sun. "And baths, both of you. Go on, I'll be there in a second."

Ellie's voice carried as she ventured up, something along the lines of bringing her mermaid Barbie in the tub with her. You ruffled Jack's hair gently as he passed, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

"You know what someone said to me today?" Aaron asked, turning towards the sink to wash his hands.

"Aren't you forgetting something first?"

He stopped, a knowing smile forming on his face. "How dare I."

Aaron moved forward, hands finding your waist to pull you near, placing his lips onto yours for a few seconds. Albeit how short it was, you savored it; coming home after a long, long day.

Satisfied, "Enlighten me."

He paused to actually wash his hands, flicking the water droplets off once he finished. You tossed him the hand towel that happened to be nearby.

"Someone mistook me for a babysitter."

"What?" You snorted out a laugh.

"Left me speechless." He exasperatedly rolled his eyes, wiping his hands and throwing the towel back onto the counter. "Can you believe that?"

"Well, you know how some people can be." You shrugged. Your statement wasn't much help, but what could you do.

"Oblivious?"

"What prompted it?"

"Standard parenting. I was simply keeping a close eye. The slide made Ellie nervous, Jack was being a bit adventurous today, and the playground itself was a nightmare. Everyone had the same idea I did, it was packed."

You hummed in response, dumping the neglected water from Jack and Ellie's water bottles out. Aaron continued to ramble on.

"And she saw the two of them. Jack - he resembles Haley a bit more, sure. But Ellie?"

"Your twin."

"Exactly." Aaron scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Babysitter. How in the world does that title come to mind before Dad?"

He shook his head as his eyes found the ceiling; utter disbelief.

"You know," you raised an eyebrow, regaining his focus, "you're hot when you're fired up."

"Am I?" Aaron smirked, pulling you in again just as he did before, arm winding behind your back.

"Mom!"

A whine drifted from upstairs, Aaron pulled away from your lips with a comically heavy, defeated sigh.

You shoved him at the chest playfully, grabbing a laugh from him, heading upstairs.

"She, huh." You teased, "Are you sure it wasn't some strategically formed ploy in hopes you were unmarried? Wouldn't be the first time."

He trudged up the stairs behind you, a chuckle shaking through his chest. "I doubt it. She seemed genuine."

"And you would know." You quipped, ends of your mouth turned upwards.

"With my profiling expertise?" He bantered back, playfully patting your behind as you reached the second level. "I'd hope so."

#ellie hotchner <3 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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emeraldsandpearlsss · 1 month ago

Text

Under Pressure

As a graduation present to yourself you head to the spa to finally get some relaxation. Lucky for you, your masseuse knows just how to work out that tension.

(this is my first attempt at a one shot so be gentle)

WC: 4.4k

content warnings: strangers, fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), hand job, riding the tiger

After six grueling years of college, I had finally earned this spa day. Going straight into grad school after getting my Bachelor’s was a decision I knew would be challenging, but I hadn’t anticipated the physical toll it would take on me. The mental hardships I managed with various prescriptions and my nightly date with Lady Indica, but nothing seemed to ease the tension that had been locked in my shoulders for the past three years.

So there I soaked, neck deep in the outdoor mineral bath, as the 104-degree water soothed my aching joints. The spa was hidden away in the mountains, down a winding road flanked by lush greenery. I’d been here for two hours already, cycling between the hot and cold plunge pools and swimming laps. Now I lounged, waiting for my upcoming aromatherapy massage. With the day pass costing upwards of $500, I was determined to make every cent count.

When my 15 minutes were up, I headed inside to the spa’s service area. The receptionist checked me in, handed me a towel, and guided me to the showers to rinse off before my treatment. The hallways were dimly lit and refreshingly cool, infused with the earthy aroma of stone walls, subtly mingled with hints of jasmine and eucalyptus oils. My shower resembled a rock waterfall. This whole place knew how to set a tone.

I quickly undressed, rinsed off, and wrapped myself in the plush towel. My hands lightly shook as I knotted my hair into a silk scrunchie and I felt a flutter of tension deep into my belly. I had never had a massage like this before. I had never spent this much on myself before. But I earned this. I had to keep reminding myself I worked hard for this.

Entering Room 3, I paused to take in the serene atmosphere. The soft, white massage table rested at the heart of a dimly lit room, bathed in a soothing blue glow. The stone-lined walls evoked the serene ambiance of a tranquil cave, inviting a deep sense of calm. I took my place on the table, face up as instructed, and let out a slow, steadying breath.

A soft knock broke the quiet, followed by the gentle creak of the door opening. I turned my head to greet my masseuse and was met with a pair of jade-green eyes illuminated by the room’s soft light.

"Hello," he said, his voice carrying a gentle British accent. "My name is Harry, and I’ll be your massage therapist today."

For a moment, I forgot myself, taking in the sight of him. His soft brown hair was tied back in a bun, mirroring my own. He wore a simple short-sleeved button-down and matching trousers, accented only by a blue name tag. Tattoos adorned his left arm in an intricate array, with just a few scattered on his right. As my gaze traveled back up to meet his eyes, I felt the need to steady my breath.

"H-hi. Hello," I stammered, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that I had nothing but a pair of cotton panties beneath my towel.

"Are there any areas you’d like me to focus on today?" he asked as he moved around the room, setting out lotions and placing a few drops of oil into the diffuser. He was so at ease in his routine and I felt like my world had tilted on its axis.

His words caused an unexpected ache to thrum low in my belly. I clenched my thighs together, hoping to dispel the sensation as discreetly as possible. That particular area hadn't received any focus since the start of my grad program.

By another person that is.

And god three years was a long time to go with only the company of a pink vibrator. And maybe a dildo…and a purple vibrator that had the thrusting motion…and occasionally a plug but only on special occasions…

But no men.

And certainly not men who looked like him. I’d been here for two hours already, cycling between the hot and cold plunge pools and doing some laps in the pool. His hands seemed capable of molding me like play-doh, with veins running along them and up along his firm forearms… It was easy to imagine them working out…tension.

"My shoulders have been sore," I managed to choke out, wincing slightly at the crack in my voice. My shoulders weren’t any more sore than any other part of my body, but I felt like I had to say something.

"Alright," he said with a reassuring nod. "We’ll start there and see how you’re feeling. Just close your eyes and try to relax."

I did as instructed, taking a few calming breaths. The sound of him rolling a stool closer and the faint squeezing of lotion filled the room.

"Is it alright if I touch you now?" he asked gently.

I nodded softly, and his hands found their place on my shoulders, warm and reassuring. His palms pressed firmly into my traps, kneading with a steady rhythm that radiated a soothing warmth through my muscles. His thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles, each motion dissolving knots of tension that had accumulated from countless hours hunched over a computer screen. The relief was immediate, like all of the weight I had been carrying was slowly lifting away.

His fingers traveled with a knowing precision, working their way across the ridges of my shoulders and upper back. A satisfying pressure built with each movement—firm enough to coax the tension from my muscles but never harsh, as if he intuitively understood my threshold. As he moved his hands to my neck, his touch deepened. He slipped his fingers beneath my shoulder blades, a light stretch accompanying the glide upward.

His hands transitioned seamlessly into my hair, the silky strands parting as his fingertips brushed against my scalp. The sensation magnifying the ache between my legs. His touch grounded me in the moment while leaving my senses heightened.

Slowly his hands began to curl around to the sides of my neck, along my pulse point and up to my temples. My heart rate picked up with each pass, my legs flexing and releasing. As he worked his way up to my jaw, his thumbs gently massaging near my earlobes, an unrestrained moan escaped my lips.

Harry’s hands paused, and my breath caught.

I opened my eyes cautiously, only to find his locked with mine, his lips slightly parted.

"Sorry..." I whispered, mortified.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly, and with a subtle nod, resumed his motions without a word.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying desperately to calm my racing thoughts and praying he couldn't feel the pounding of my pulse along my throat. But the crimson flush of embarrassment burned across my skin, and my mind refused to settle.

Did I make it weird? I made it weird. Why was he looking at me like that though? I'm sure I just imagined it. It's his job to do this, I doubt I'm the first person to ever make a noise, it's fine. But oh god why is he so quiet? I guess he was quiet before... Was it awkward before? Have I been making this whole thing weird? No, no, it's a spa, you're supposed to relax. It's fine. You're fine. Breathe.

After tending to my arms Harry asked me to turn onto my stomach. I awkwardly maneuvered myself, clinging to the towel as I tried not to tumble off the table. I don't think I could handle embarrassing myself again today. Once in position, I felt a gentle tap on my back.

"I’m going to need you to pull down the towel so I can see your back," he said softly. "I also have this pillow for under your hips."

I shimmied the towel down to my lower back and adjusted the pillow beneath me. To my surprise, it eased a pressure I hadn’t realized had been building in my lower spine.

I looked over my shoulder, daring to make eye contact again. "Is this okay?" I gently ask.

He held my gaze for a moment, his hand resting gently on my calf, before responding, "Perfect." I thought I could see him give a harsh swallow, but surely I must have mistaken it.

Turning to face the ground through the cushioned face hole of the massage bed I felt myself flush again. This man has said little to nothing to me and yet I am disolving into a pile of goo on the floor. Truly pathetic. Call me the Wicked Witch because I, too, will apparently die if I get a little wet.

As Harry gently kneads my legs I feel the ache between my thighs becoming harder to ignore and debate ending the session. This is supposed to be relaxing but I'm so wound up and in my head that I fear I'm making everything worse.

After several more minutes of imagining what other areas my masseuse could work on I let out a frustrated sigh and resigned myself to end the session. I begin to lift myself up when I feel him place a firm hand on the back of my upper thigh. I freeze, my hands gripping the edge of the table but waiting for any indication of what's happening.

"Wh-"

"Just lay back down. I know. I've got you."

I tilt my head in his direction, still too scared to make eye contact for fear that I'm imagining what he's implying.

"Harry what do you..."

He moves his hand up my thigh a fraction of an inch.

Clearing his throat he asks, "Is it alright..." he moves another inch, "if I touch you?"

The question hangs in the air as I try to imagine a world in which things like this happen to people like me.

"Yes," I say in a breathless whisper. Scared that someone will hear. Scared that I'll make him disappear.

He places a hand on my shoulder and delicately pushes me back down onto the table, holding me between the shoulderblades as he slides his hand between my thighs. When I feel the tips of his cool fingers caress me my body tenses on instinct and I clench my legs around him. His minty cool breath hits my face as he bends down and whispers, "relax," in my ear as his index finger begins to glide up and down my now soaked panties.

After a deep breath I begin to ease the tension in my legs, letting them fall farther apart to give him more access.

His hand moves slowly, exploring everything still hidden from him by thin cotton. It’s a dramatic difference from the pounding of my pulse ringing in my ears. My breath comes out in choppy puffs as I harshly swallow and try to calm myself down. The friction of cotton against me sends zings of pleasure through my body and I clench my fingers trying to hold onto this side of the earth as it begins to spin around me. But the pleasure is outweighed by my need to feel him on me. In me.

Without much thought I gently ease my hips up from their propped position on the pillow, my body taking over and letting him know I need more. That’s when I feel his fingers gliding along the seam of my panties, teasing me.

“Can I-”

“Yes,” I let out in a low moan. I’m not above begging at this point. I appreciate the checking in. I do. But if he doesn’t touch me right now I fear I will fall apart, fractured and broken, unable to hold together the ache that's been building inside me.

When he pulls aside my drenched underwear and begins to slide a finger through my arousal everything else in the room turns to fog. There is only the soft glow of blue light, me, and Harry. I am in the clouds and he is propelling me higher. When he finally makes his way to my throbbing clit the ground falls away beneath me.

Harry’s free hand trails up my back until gently tangling with the hair at the base of my neck, giving it a firm hold. His other hand is working slow, torturous circles around my aching nub. Every time I start to feel the pressure build in my lower belly he moves away, collecting more of my arousal before starting the process all over again.

Swirl. Swirl. Swirl. Stop.

Again. And again.

I can’t help it when a whimper escapes my lips as he does it for the fourth time. At the sound Harry gently releases my hair allowing me to look over my shoulder at him, where his sparkling green eyes are already trained on mine. A small smirk is on his lips. He’s enjoying working me up. As we look at eachother I can see the challenge in his eyes. He’s pushing me and I have no stamina to put up a fight. Another desperate whine escaped my throat as I breathlessly choke out a, “please.”

Please is always the magic word.

He keeps our eyes connected as he removes his hand just long enough to drag down my now soaked underwear. One finger slides inside of my dripping pussy, and then a second. My eyes roll back and then close as my jaw falls open, taking in the pleasure and the pressure of the fullness. His fingers are long and hit that spot inside of me that makes stars explode behind my eyes with ease. As he begins to massage my g-spot his thumb resumes the tortuous circling of my clit and I bury my head in the cushions to attempt stifling my moans. My hips begin to rock back, urging him to… I don’t know what. But I need more of him.

Suddenly a firm hand slips around my waist and between my breasts, pulling me up so I’m forced to prop myself on my forearms. His hand continues up and gently locks around my throat. A sob of appreciation escapes me as he begins to fuck me harder with his fingers. Tears pool in my eyes as the pressure in my belly becomes almost too much, begging for release. Harry tightens his thumb and ring finger against my airways, giving me a delicious high as I feel him lean over me again, breathing in sync with me.

“You’re so tense…” he gently pants next to my ear. “You really shouldn’t let it get this bad you know. We’ve got to get all of these knots out…”

Just then Harry releases my throat and tears spill as the headrush overcomes me. I’m gasping, trying to bring myself back to reality, when I’m suddenly pushed back down to the table by my shoulders. Harry holds me firmly to the table as I hear him shuffle around behind me. Then his mouth is on me. He moves to wrap his arms underneath my thighs, his rough fingers digging into my soft skin as he spreads me open and buries his face in my cunt, his tongue gliding up and down - savoring me - before settling on my throbbing clit.

I hear a moan escape him as he firmly sucks my clit between his lips. The pressure of his tongue is the only thing keeping me grounded. Everything else falls away and all that matters is that plump pink mouth pulling me towards nirvana.

His left arm remains holding me tight as his right hand slides up the back of my thigh, leaving a train of goosebumps in their wake. A firm hand gently kneads at my ass before sliding his fingers back into my entrance. The feeling of his mouth and his fingers are so intense I try to lock my legs, but his grip is firm. I am at his mercy and god I fucking love it. I bite on my palm to stifle my moans, not wanting to get caught in here.

Harry is all about the tease. Working me up and leaving me wanting again. My body is all stars and electric currents, twinkling so bright and zapping me back into clarity. But if I am the stars, Harry is the sun, blinding me to every sensation except that mouth. That fucking mouth.

The only sounds are choked sobs, panting breath, and the slick slide of skin on dripping skin. My body is sticky with sweat but the room keeps me cool, despite feeling like every nerve ending is on fire.

I begin to move my hips again, riding his fingers and his mouth as he flicks and sucks and slides in and out of me all at once. Harry groans in appreciation, his fingers digging into my flesh harder. I reach back and grab Harry by his bun, holding him to me, too scared of the moment slipping away. With a low chuckle Harry nips at my swollen nub and then applies pressure with his tongue in a pulsing motion.

The sensation starts in my toes, a gentle fizz like bubbles rising in a glass of celebratory champagne. The tingling spreads, climbing higher and higher. As it reaches my legs, they tense on their own, every muscle coiled tight with anticipation. I don’t notice I’m holding my breath until a dark haze begins to blur the edges of my vision. And then everything inside me shatters.

The orgasm that hits fractures me into a million pieces, too powerful for a sound or a breath to escape. I am frozen with pleasure, completely at his mercy. Harry’s fingers continue to thrust into me, helping me ride out the orgasm as long as I could. Removing his mouth, he blows a cool breath on my sensitive clit and I throb around his fingers as I start to come down. When he finally takes away his hand he softly massages my calves and I work to regain control of my breathing.

Neither of us look at each other for several minutes, the only sound to be heard is our jagged breaths.

In. (hold) Out…

I gather enough strength to sit up and remove the pillow from under my hips and look over to see Harry leaning against the stone wall, watching me closely. His hands are at his sides and he’s subtly flexing his fingers, clearly unsure of what to do next. Despite his black pants and the dim lighting of the room I can still make out that he is in need of a release. The bulge beneath his scrubs looks painfully restrained.

I slide off of the massage table and tentatively walk over to him, never breaking eye contact.

Worry crosses his face as he opens his mouth to speak. “I don’t normally…” but his voice trails off as I slowly lower myself to my knees in front of him. I never take my eyes off of his and can’t help but smile inside as I see his chest begin to rise and fall at a rapid pace.

I place a soft hand on his thigh and tilt my head, giving my best doe eyes. “You really shouldn’t let it get this bad you know…” I glance down and back up, repeating his own words back to him. Sliding my hands up his thighs I let my fingers run along the waistband of his pants. “Can I…?”

Harry lets out a strangled, “yes” as his head falls back against the wall. A few strands of hair have fallen out of his bun and gently curl around his face. I almost lose sight of my task as I take in just how beautiful this absolute stranger is. A faint flush creeps up his neck, his lips are full and slightly swollen, and his eyes carry a subtle, dreamy haze.

I attempt to return his torture by taking my time untying the knot from his scrub pants and pulling them down, but when I see the tiger tattoo on his thigh all plans are thrown out the window. I’m suddenly salivating and desperate to see all of him. More tattoos reveal themselves to me - soft words by his knees and jagged lyrics along his ankles, disappearing behind socks. I bend down to press my lips to one knee, then the other, without thinking. Taking hold of his thighs I begin to kiss my way up, savoring the feel of his muscular thighs as the clench in anticipation. I rise over the tiger and past his hips until my mouth landed on the ferns resting just above his black boxer briefs. My tongue traces the lines of the ink as my hands work down his underwear.

Pulling back I take a moment to admire his cock that has so patiently - and painfully - been begging for some attention. His heavy erection twitches as I take a soft lick of the precum that’s starting to drip before sliding my mouth over him and taking him into the back of my throat. Any attempt at going slow was now abandoned. His hips buck at my swiftness and I feel his knee give a tremble beneath my hands. I pull off of him, giving the tip of his cock a swirl of my tongue before sliding back down and setting a steady pace.

As my nails trail softly down his thighs, his hands dart to my hair, gripping it firmly. I can sense the tension radiating through him, his body taut with restraint. Pulling away, I pause, waiting for his gaze to lock with mine. Reaching up, I touch his arms, letting my hands glide down to meet his. With a small, reassuring nod, I signal it’s okay, and his grip tightens in response. He guides me back onto him and gives a few testing rocks of his hips to make sure I’m okay. A shuddering sigh escapes his lips when he finally pulls me to the hilt of his cock and holds me there for a few moments. I swallow around him and he begins to move his hips again.

My eye’s never leave his face as he slides his cock in and out of my mouth. I want him to know my gratitude. I want him to feel as good as he made me feel. I can feel my arousal building again as I watch him, amazed that I’m the one making these emotions of pleasure cross his face. His eyes are closed, his mouth gently hanging open as soft puffs of breath and stuttered gasps fall from his lips. The serenity of his face are a stark contrast to the fevered pace he is keeping. Tears fall and saliva dips down my chin as he roughly fucks my throat, but I’m so turned on I can’t stop myself from reaching down to relieve the pressure between my legs.

When Harry sees me touching myself he withdraws my mouth from him, a string of spit connecting my mouth to his still swollen cock. His eyes are dark as he tugs my head further back and looks from my face to my fingers working fast circles on my clit. Giving him a smirk I lift my fingers to my mouth, but as I go in for a lick I’m met with his tongue already there, desperate to taste me again. For the first time our mouths meet in a desperate kiss and Harry drops down to his knees to meet me. Hands and lips and tongues become tangled as we pull each other closer, closer, closer.

Harry hoists me up and places me so I’m straddling his thigh, his hands tightly gripping my hips and sliding my dripping cunt along his tiger tattoo. I wrap one arm around his shoulder, my fingers fumbling with the hair tie as I release his long curls. I pull away from our kiss and take a moment to admire him before spitting in my hand and gripping his still needy cock. We work our bodies in sync, my hips sliding up and down with every stroke of my hand on him. Desperate moans escape me as my head falls forward and rests in the crook of his neck.

I grind my clit down harder on Harry’s thigh, savoring the blissful friction as I roll my hips but so desperate for a second release. His hips had started rocking into my hand letting me know he was just as eager to come. Without breaking my stride I let the spit pool behind my teeth before releasing it to dribble down, meeting the hand that was frantically working him towards his release. Harry leaned forward and captured my lips again, his hungry togue sliding into my mouth.

Losing control, I moan into his mouth as the champagne bubbles float upwards again. Harry’s grip turns bruising as he pulls me down harder along his thigh while I maintain my rocking motion. When the bubbles finally reached the surface and overflowed I let out a silent gasp, unaware that I had been holding my breath again. I feel Harry’s cock pulsing in my hand and open my eyes to meet his as we finish together. Our hair is stuck to the sweat along our foreheads and our cheeks have a matching flush. I can’t bring myself to break his gaze as we both release soft, uneven breaths, waiting for our breathing to steady.

Several moments pass before a giggle escapes me, followed by another, and another. Harry shakes his head but begin to laugh as well. And so we sit there, naked, on the floor of this massage room, laughing until our stomachs hurt and tears run down our faces.

As I walked back to my car my cheeks still ached from smiling. Harry and I hadn’t spoken a word about it while we cleaned up, just shared quiet chuckles whenever our eyes met. At the locker room, his fingers brushed my arm, lingering for a fleeting moment before he turned and disappeared back into the spa center. I drove away with a sense of calm I hadn’t felt since before grad school, a weight lifted off my shoulders—and a package for five more sessions tucked in my pocket.

After all, some knots need more than one visit to work out.

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unconventional-lawnchair · 1 month ago

Note

Could you please do a poly marauders+lily with reader having to take some time off of school due to poor mental health/stress! This could be with an eating disorder or just simple depression or something like that. Feel free to adjust this however you like! Love your writings btw💙

AN: Thank you!! 💕 This is so cute I may have gone overboard.

Loving You is Easy

Marauders + Lily x fem!Reader

Summary: Being younger than all your respective partners was never a big deal; until they graduated and you were left behind. As your mental health declined and their lives started without you, a break was needed.

WC: 5.7k

CW: Mentions of Practice kissing, reader gets babied.

The morning light filtered through the large windows of James’s bedroom, the soft warmth of the sun brushing against your skin. Normally, this room was filled with life- James’s laughter, Sirius’s sarcastic remarks, Lily’s quick wit, and Remus’s calm steadiness. But today, it was just you, cocooned in the comforting scent of them, sinking deeper into the bed that had become your refuge.

James’s Quidditch jersey was bunched in your hands, the fabric soft from years of wear. You’d slipped it on at some point last night, the oversized garment brushing against your thighs as you curled tighter beneath the blanket. Lily’s pillow was tucked under your head, her faint floral scent surrounding you.

You knew you should get up. But the thought of facing anything beyond these four walls was suffocating. You had already overstayed your welcome- you should be at Hogwarts. In class. The winter hadn't even ended yet and you caved in on yourself.

The door creaked open, and James peeked his head inside, his messy hair sticking up at odd angles. He was always the first to notice when something was off, his intuition as sharp as his loyalty was- unwavering.

“Hey, love,” He said softly, stepping into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb your cocoon of blankets. “You’ve been in here all morning. Feeling stuck?”

You nodded faintly, burying your face deeper into Lily’s pillow.

James gave a heartbroken coo, his hand reaching out to smooth your hair. James's hand lingered in your hair, his fingers carding through the strands as if it might untangle the weight pressing down on you. He tilted his head, a soft, lopsided smile curling his lips despite the crease of worry in his brow.

“My little brave fox,” he murmured, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a secret he was sharing just with you. “You’ve got no idea how much I love you, do you?”

You didn’t reply, but your fingers tightened slightly on the jersey bunched in your hands. James’s eyes caught the movement, his chest aching at the sight of you clinging so tightly to anything that might bring you comfort. And it was a piece of him.

“I should really shower,” he said, his voice low, almost to himself. “I’m a right mess after that run.”

But he made no move to get up. Instead, he leaned down closer, brushing a kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there as he exhaled. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He murmured, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and awe.

Finally, he forced himself to pull back, though his eyes stayed locked on you. “All right,” He said, his voice soft and coaxing. “Here’s the deal: I’ll go shower, so I don’t stink up the place, and then I’m coming right back here to hold you until you’re ready to take on the world- or until Sirius bursts in and tries to steal you away. Sound good?”

Your nod was barely a movement, but it was enough to make his heart clench painfully.

“Good,” He said, a grin breaking through despite the worry etched into his features. “Don’t go anywhere, yeah? Not that you’d want to. You’re in my bed, after all. Best spot in the whole manor.”

His teasing earned him the faintest twitch of your lips, and his grin widened, his chest swelling with a bittersweet kind of pride.

“Be right back, love,” He promised, pressing another kiss to your hair before reluctantly standing and heading for the door. He paused in the doorway, turning back for one last look at you, his hand gripping the doorframe as though he couldn’t bear to leave.

“I mean it,” He said softly. “Bravest little fox I’ve ever known.”

And with that, he disappeared into the en-suite bathroom.

It wasn't long before Lily came in, her soft footsteps barely audible on the carpet. She carried a steaming mug of tea, the soothing aroma of chamomile filling the air.

Lily placed the tea on the bedside table with careful precision, as though even the smallest noise might disturb your fragile peace. Her green eyes softened as they took you in- curled up in the bed, buried under layers of blankets, clutching James’s jersey like a lifeline. She crouched down, bringing herself to your level, her voice gentle but purposeful.

"My sleepy girl," She murmured, her words carrying both affection and worry. “You’ve been working so hard, sweetheart. Too hard.”

You didn’t respond, but the slight movement of your shoulders, as though trying to disappear further into the bed, told her enough.

Without another word, Lily stood and walked to the windows. With a flick of her wand, the heavy curtains drew themselves shut, dimming the room to a soft, cozy glow. The harsh winter light was replaced by the flickering warmth of lanterns, which she conjured in the corners of the room, their golden light soothing rather than overwhelming.

She paused, surveying the space with the critical eye of someone determined to make it perfect. Another flick of her wand, and the fireplace roared to life, its gentle crackle filling the silence.

When she returned to your side, she adjusted the blanket around you, tucking it under your chin with the utmost care. “There we are,” She said softly. “That’s a bit better, isn’t it?”

You nodded faintly, though your grip on the jersey didn’t loosen.

Lily reached for the tea again, this time bringing it closer. “I made this just for you,” She said, holding the mug carefully. “Chamomile, with a touch of honey- exactly how you like it. You don’t have to drink it all right now, but just one sip, love. For me?”

Her voice was so patient, so kind, that you found yourself leaning up slightly to take the mug. The warmth seeped into your hands, grounding you as you took a small sip.

“There’s my girl,” Lily cooed, her smile soft and encouraging. “You’re trying, and that’s all I could ever ask of you.”

Lily didn’t linger with physical affection- she knew you needed space today. Instead, she moved around the room, her actions deliberate and filled with purpose. She tidied the bedside table, arranging your tea and the stack of books James had haphazardly left there. She straightened the extra blanket at the foot of the bed, ensuring you had everything you might need within arm’s reach.

“Sweetheart,” She said as she worked, her voice gentle but firm. “I need you to hear this. You are not overstaying your welcome. This is your home, just as much as it’s ours. And there’s no clock ticking down on how long you’re allowed to rest.”

Her words hung in the air, a balm for the guilt you hadn’t been able to voice.

“You give so much of yourself,” She continued, turning to look at you. “To your studies, to your friends, to us. It’s time to let us give something back.”

Once the room was to her liking, Lily returned to your side, settling into the chair James kept beside the bed. She didn’t press you to talk or move, simply grabbing her abandoned knitting project and watching you with the kind of quiet determination that made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere.

“You don’t have to face everything today,” She hummed, looking down at her project and after a while, her voice grew soft- steady. “Some days are for fighting dragons. And some days...” She gestured to the bed and the blankets enveloping you. “Are for letting us do it for you.”

You didn’t reply, but when she reached for the tea again, you took another sip without hesitation.

“That’s my good girl,” She whispered, her smile returning. “Just take it one sip at a time, love. I’ll be right here.”

Sirius burst in next, his energy as uncontainable as ever, though it softened the moment he saw you curled up in the bed. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

“Well, aren’t you a sight,” He teased lightly, though there was no bite in his tone- still earned him a glare from Lily. “What’s the excuse today? Too good for the rest of us? Or is this just another one of your ‘I’m not enough’ days?”

The humor was sharp, but the tenderness in his voice cracked through your defenses. You peeked out from beneath the blanket, giving him the smallest of glares.

“There she is,” He chuckled with a smirk, hands on his hips. “You’re lucky you’re adorable, you know. Otherwise, we might get offended by all this moping.”

Sirius strode over, his smirk fading into something softer as he crouched down to your level, his dark eyes searching yours. There was mischief there, of course, but also something deeper- concern, a kind of devotion that made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and overwhelming.

Before addressing you again, Sirius turned to Lily, catching her hand and pressing a dramatic kiss to the back of it. “Don’t look at me like that, Evans,” He murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I’m here to help, not to make trouble. Mostly.”

Lily arched an eyebrow, but her lips twitched with a smile. “Be good,” She warned lightly, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her.

“Always,” Sirius replied, leaning forward to kiss her properly this time. It wasn’t quick or casual- it was intense and full of the kind of passion that made you look away instinctively, even though you were used to seeing it between them. When he pulled back, his grin had returned, brighter now.

“Merlin,” He sighed, turning his attention back to you. “Beautiful things you are. How’d I get so lucky, hmm?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Sirius Black, the eternal flirt, wasn’t supposed to be this soft. And yet, here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.

He settled himself on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he regarded you with a lopsided grin. “You know, you’ve really done it this time,” He chuckled, his tone light but warm. “Stolen James’s jersey, taken over his bed, and now hoarding Lily’s attention. Such a spoiled girl.”

Sirius's grin softened as he leaned down, his lips brushing over the blanket-covered curve of your shoulder. His voice dropped to a whisper, rough with affection and sincerity.

“I bloody love it,” He murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours. “Such a pretty girl, even when she’s hiding from me.”

Your breath hitched, though you quickly averted your gaze, burying your face further into Lily’s pillow. Sirius chuckled, the sound low and warm, as though your attempt to retreat only endeared you to him more.

Lily cleared her throat pointedly, her knitting needles clinking together as she worked. “Sirius Black,” She said with mock severity, though the softness in her voice betrayed her. “If you’re going to flirt, at least make yourself useful.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, leaning back with that ever-present smirk. “Flirting is useful, Evans. Keeps her smiling, doesn’t it?”

Lily rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, her gaze flicking back to you. “You’re insufferable,” She muttered, though her lips twitched with a smile.

Sirius turned back to you, his hand brushing against the blanket as if silently asking permission to stay closer. “She’s just jealous,” He teased lightly. “She can’t stand how good I am at making you smile.”

When you didn’t reply, his voice softened, and his grin faded into something more vulnerable. “I mean it, though,” He murmured, his tone low and sincere. “I love seeing you get what you deserve. Everything. And I don’t care if you want to hide away in this bed forever, I’ll be right here with you.”

Lily paused her knitting, her expression softening as she glanced at Sirius. “You’re not as hopeless as you let everyone believe,” She said quietly, the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Don’t let that get out,” Sirius replied with a wink, though his eyes remained fixed on you. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for just a moment. “It’s our secret, yeah, love?”

Only then did you give a shy nod.

Remus entered the room quietly, his presence like the gentle warmth of a winter hearth. His amber eyes swept over the scene- Lily perched in her chair, Sirius lounging on the bed with a familiar smirk, and you cocooned in the blankets, clutching James’s jersey like a lifeline.

He crossed to Lily first, his movements unhurried, his focus unwavering. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, the simple gesture filled with quiet affection. Lily looked up at him, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile as she reached up to touch his hand briefly before returning to her knitting.

Sirius, never one to be outdone, groaned dramatically from his spot on the bed. “Oh, come on, Moony. Where’s my kiss?”

Remus sighed, his lips twitching in amusement as he turned toward Sirius. “You’re relentless,” He muttered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed his fondness. He leaned down and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Sirius’s lips, earning a pleased hum from the man sprawled beside you.

“There. Happy now?” Remus asked, his voice tinged with dry humor.

Sirius grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Ecstatic. Don’t let it stop there, though.”

You stayed quiet, sinking further into the blankets as you watched the interactions unfold. Remus hadn’t looked at you yet, hadn’t even acknowledged you, and the knot of guilt in your chest tightened. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was upset with you- if your inability to pull yourself out of this slump was finally wearing on his patience.

Lily must have noticed the way your fingers tightened on the jersey because she glanced at Remus pointedly. “Moony,” She said softly, her tone a mixture of gentle affection and subtle reprimand.

Remus’s gaze snapped to you, his amber eyes widening slightly as if realizing his mistake. “Oh, love,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that soothing tone he used when he wanted you to feel safe.

He crouched beside the bed, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the blanket. “I wasn’t ignoring you,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours for any trace of hurt. “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you glanced away, feeling foolish for thinking he’d been upset.

Remus reached out, his hand hovering near yours before settling gently over it. “I could never be upset with you,” he said, as though he’d read your mind. “I promise.”

His touch was warm, grounding, and you felt the knot in your chest begin to loosen.

“You’ve been so strong,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles. “But you don’t have to be. Not with us.”

Sirius leaned back, watching the two of you with a faint smile that lacked his usual mischief. “Told you,” he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Lily set her knitting aside and stood, crossing to place a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “She’s been feeling like a burden,” she said quietly, her green eyes meeting his.

Remus’s brows furrowed, his expression pained. “Love,” He whispered, turning his full attention back to you. “You are never a burden. You’re ours, and we’re yours. That’s all that matters.”

His words wrapped around you like a second blanket, his steady presence chasing away the lingering shadows. When you finally met his gaze, the soft smile that broke across his face was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“There she is,” He murmured, reaching up to brush a tear from your cheek. “That’s my girl.”

You sniffled, your lips trembling as you whispered, “I thought you were mad at me.”

Remus shook his head, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. “Never,” he said firmly. “Not in a million years.”

Lily bent down to kiss your other cheek, her voice gentle. “See? You’ve got us, love. Always.”

James emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and unruly, wearing nothing but his Quidditch shorts that clung low on his hips. He ran a towel through his hair, a casual grin already forming as he took in the scene: Sirius sitting on the bed beside you, Remus crouched at your side, and Lily perched back in her chair with her knitting. The room was soft with warmth, but James immediately noticed the slight redness in your eyes and the protective way everyone had positioned themselves around you.

“Oi, what’s this?” James said, tossing his towel onto a nearby chair. He crossed the room with his usual exuberance, his hazel eyes flicking between all of you. “You’re all hogging her. My bed, my girl, my jersey- where’s my share of the attention?”

Lily raised an eyebrow, though a small smile played on her lips. “Potter, don’t start.”

James frowned, his gaze finally landing on you fully. His teasing faded the moment he saw the way you were curled into yourself, the oversized jersey swallowing your frame as you clutched it tightly. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning closer. “Hey, what’s going on?” His voice was softer now, full of concern. “You okay, love?”

Sirius leaned back, his playful smirk replaced by a rare seriousness. He exchanged a glance with Lily and Remus before turning back to James. “She’s having a rough one,” Sirius said, his voice low. “Feeling like she’s not enough.”

James’s brows shot up in shock before knitting together in confusion. “Not enough?” He turned his full attention to you, his hazel eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You- ”

He cut himself off, as if the thought was too absurd to finish. Instead, he shuffled closer, placing a hand over yours where it gripped his jersey. “Why would you ever think something like that?” His voice cracked slightly, the intensity of his feelings bleeding through. “You’re- Merlin, love, you’re everything. Don’t you know that?”

Your eyes welled up again, and you averted your gaze, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of their care. “You’re all out there, doing amazing things,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Graduated, working, making a difference. And I’m just... stuck. Still in school, not knowing what I’m doing with my life. I feel like I’ll never catch up to any of you.”

James looked like he’d been physically struck. He opened his mouth, closed it, then looked around at the others for help. “Did you hear that?” He finally asked, addressing the room as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She thinks she’s not enough. Her.” He gestured toward you, his expression almost comically outraged. “How’s that possible?”

Lily sighed, placing her knitting aside. “We’re working on it, James,” She said gently. “But maybe you could use less dramatics and more comfort?”

James blinked, then seemed to deflate. He turned back to you, his hand now cradling your cheek. “You listen to me, and you listen good,” He said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “You are the bravest, kindest, most wonderful person I’ve ever met. You make every single one of us better just by being you. And I don’t care if you’re still in school or taking a break or deciding to be a bloody Muggle librarian- whatever you do, it’ll be brilliant, because you’re brilliant.”

You let out a soft, shaky laugh despite yourself, and James’s eyes lit up. “There’s my girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “No one’s allowed to make you feel like you’re not enough, love. Not even you.”

Sirius snorted, though his grin was soft. “James Potter, defender of self-esteem. Who would’ve thought?”

Remus reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he gave James a knowing look. “For once, I’m not going to argue with him,” Remus said softly, his hand lingering against your cheek. “He’s right, you know. We wouldn’t be us without you.”

Lily leaned forward, her green eyes warm with affection. “And we’re not moving forward without you. You set your pace, sweetness, and we’ll match it. Always.”

James looked between them, then back at you, his grin returning. “See? We’re a package deal. You’re stuck with us, love. No escaping it.”

You couldn’t help but smile through your tears, the warmth of their unwavering love wrapping around you like a shield. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter.

“It's not too much?” You muttered, sinking into the sheets as James' arm wrapped around your middle. Muttering something to the others about hogging you.

“What's that, my sweetness?” Lily furrowed her brow at you as you shied away from her look.

“Having to.. do this. Dote on me every time even the slightest thing goes wrong.”

James froze, his arm tightening around you slightly as he processed your words. His hazel eyes widened in genuine confusion, and he blurted, “What?”

Sirius snorted, his smirk quickly turning to a full-on grin as he lounged back against the headboard. “She’s lost it,” he declared dramatically, waving a hand. “Thinks she’s a burden. Absolute nonsense.”

Remus gave him a mild look but didn’t disagree. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his hand still resting on yours. “Love,” he said softly, his voice carrying that calming steadiness you always found comforting. “Why would you ever think that? We want to take care of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tightening on James’s jersey. “It just feels like too much sometimes,” You admitted hesitantly. “Every time I feel like this... every time something goes wrong, it’s like you have to put everything on hold for me. I don’t want to be that person.”

Lily set down her knitting with deliberate care, her green eyes narrowing slightly- not in anger, but in the kind of determination that made it clear she wasn’t letting this go. “Sweetheart,” She said firmly, leaning forward. “Do you remember the first time we really talked? Before all of this- before we were close?”

You blinked at her, startled by the question. “I... kind of?”

Lily smiled faintly, though there was a bittersweetness in her expression. “It was in our dorm, during fifth year. I had just gotten a letter from Petunia.”

The memory slowly surfaced, and your heart ached at the thought. You remembered that night vividly now: Lily sitting on her bed, trembling with silent tears as she clutched a crumpled piece of parchment. You’d found her there, completely undone by her sister’s cruel words.

“She’d written to tell me how much she hated me,” Lily continued, her voice soft but steady. “How I was a freak for being at Hogwarts. That I’d ruined everything for her. And I- I believed her, just for a moment. It was awful.”

You remembered sitting down beside her, your heart breaking for her pain. “I- I stayed with you,” you said quietly, piecing the memory together. “I hugged you, I think? And we talked for hours?”

Lily nodded, her smile softening. “You did more than that, love. You made me tea- awful tea, by the way, but I drank it anyway. And you told me stories about your family, about how proud they were of you, just to remind me that I had people who cared about me. You stayed up all night with me, even though I told you to go to bed.”

“I remember,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes again.

Lily reached over, her hand warm as it brushed against your knee. “You didn’t think it was too much then, did you? Taking care of me when I needed it?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. You needed someone.”

“And now you do,” she said simply. “And we’re here. Just like you were for me. That’s what this is, love. It’s not about being too much. It’s about love.”

Remus’s soft chuckle broke the silence that followed Lily’s words, drawing your teary eyes toward him. He was leaning back slightly, his long fingers absently running along the edge of the blanket near your hand.

“Since we’re doing memory lane,” He began, his voice calm but with a faint note of regret, “do you remember that time in the boys’ dorm? It must’ve been third year. It was just us, and I snapped at you over- what was it? Something stupid. A book, I think?”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to place the memory. Slowly, the image came back: the two of you in the quiet of the boys’ dormitory, Remus unusually tense as he rummaged through his belongings. You’d picked up one of his books, curious, and asked an innocent question about it, only for him to lash out sharply- so unlike his usual gentle self.

“I remember,” you murmured softly. “You were really upset.”

“I was a complete prat,” He huffed, his amber eyes meeting yours with a mix of apology and gratitude. “It was a couple of days before the full moon, and I was already on edge, but you didn’t know that. Hell, none of you knew yet. And instead of being angry with me- or worse, scared- you stayed.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the rawness in his voice. “You looked like you needed someone,” you said simply, echoing Lily’s earlier words. “I could tell something was wrong.”

Remus’s lips quirked in a small smile, though his eyes shone with unshed emotion. “You didn’t just stay. You sat with me, kept asking gentle questions until I calmed down. You even brought me one of James’s chocolate frogs- though you tried to hide the wrapper like you hadn’t nicked it.”

A small laugh bubbled up from your throat, the memory vivid now. “I thought he’d notice if the stash got too low.”

“He definitely did,” Sirius interjected with a grin. “He’s still salty about it.”

Remus ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “The point is, you stayed when I didn’t deserve it. When I wasn’t kind, when I didn’t have the words to explain what was really wrong- you stayed. You always have.”

He leaned forward, his hand brushing against yours again, grounding you. “And now, it’s our turn. You don’t have to say the right thing or be the strong one. You don’t have to do anything but let us stay with you. Just like you did for me.”

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Instead, you nodded, your fingers brushing against his in a quiet acknowledgment.

Sirius let out a low whistle, cutting through the quiet moment as he stretched out on the bed beside you. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a softness to his expression that tempered it. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but tinged with something deeper, “if we’re sharing stories of how this one”- he nudged your arm gently- “has saved our sorry hides, I’ve got a good one.”

You glanced at him, your brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Sirius smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “I’m talking about how you pulled off the impossible- getting me and Regulus to talk without trying to hex each other.”

The memory came back slowly, hazy around the edges but vivid in its heart. You and Regulus had become friends in your third year, a surprising bond that Sirius had always half-envied, half-admired. Regulus had refused to speak to Sirius for years, his bitterness over his brother’s rebellion cutting deep. But on Sirius’s birthday in your fifth year, you’d orchestrated something you hadn’t even told him about until much later.

“You mean when I gave Regulus your gift?” You asked hesitantly, a flicker of guilt crossing your face. “I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do.”

“Didn’t know?” Sirius scoffed, sitting up straighter. “Love, it was brilliant. You handed him the gift and said- what was it again?” He snapped his fingers, grinning. “‘This doesn’t have to mean anything, but it might mean everything.’”

You flushed, your fingers tightening on James’s jersey. “I was just trying to make him see that you cared.”

Sirius’s grin softened, his voice dipping into something warmer, more sincere. “And he did. Merlin, he did. That was the first time we actually talked without shouting at each other. He came to me that night, you know? Told me about the gift- about you giving it to him. Said he’d been wrong about me.”

Your eyes widened. “He never told me that.”

Sirius nodded, his expression serious now. “He wouldn’t, would he? Too much like admitting he was wrong. But he did. And you- ” He leaned closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You were the one who made it happen. You gave me my brother back, even if it was just for a little while.”

You felt the sting of tears again, but Sirius’s grin returned, lighting up the room like it always did. “So don’t you dare think you’re too much, yeah? You’re just enough. Always have been.”

James, still holding you close, huffed dramatically. “Honestly, at this rate, we should start writing all this down. ‘A Hundred Ways She Saved Our Sorry Arses,’ by the Marauders and Co.”

Remus chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. “Might be a bestseller.”

James cleared his throat, his cheeks turning an uncharacteristic shade of pink as he glanced around the room. “Erm, well, like when she, uh, helped me with- ” He coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Lily perked up, her eyes narrowing with amused suspicion. “Helped you with what, Potter?”

“Nothing!” James blurted out quickly, his voice rising an octave. “Nothing at all! Definitely not learning how to- ”

“Oh, this I’ve got to hear,” Sirius interjected with a wicked grin, sitting up straighter. “Come on, Prongs, out with it. What was it? Dancing lessons? Your terrible piano skills?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but said nothing, letting Sirius poke and prod instead.

James groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment before finally peeking through his fingers to look at you. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

You grinned softly, the smallest flicker of amusement breaking through the fog that had weighed you down all day. “Not a chance.”

James sighed dramatically, throwing himself back against the headboard. “Fine! She- ” He paused, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself for impact. “She helped me learn how to kiss, all right?”

There was a beat of stunned silence, followed by Sirius’s loud, delighted laughter. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. “You- what?” he choked out between fits of laughter. “She gave you kissing lessons? Oh, this is brilliant!”

“Shut up, Padfoot!” James snapped, his face now a deep crimson. He turned to you, his hazel eyes pleading. “You’re not going to let him tease me forever about this, are you?”

You bit back a laugh, the memory of that day rushing back to you like a warm breeze. “You were hopeless,” You said lightly, a teasing lilt in your voice.

James groaned again, covering his face with both hands. “I wasn’t hopeless. I just... needed a bit of practice!”

“Hopeless,” You repeated, grinning now as Lily let out a soft laugh.

“What’s this about practice?” She asked, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You leaned back against the pillows, feeling lighter than you had all day. “It was fifth year. James had this huge crush on someone- ”

“Lily,” Sirius supplied gleefully.

“Shut it!” James hissed, his ears turning pink now.

“- and he was panicking because he’d never kissed anyone before,” you continued, ignoring James’s protests. “So, he asked me to help.”

Sirius looked like Christmas had come early. “And you said yes? Oh, Prongs, you’re lucky she’s nicer than me. I would’ve hexed you for asking.”

You laughed softly, your voice growing more confident. “It was actually really sweet. He was so nervous. I had to practically drag him to the Astronomy Tower so no one would see us.”

“I’m right here, you know,” James grumbled, though his lips twitched with a reluctant smile.

Remus chuckled quietly, his amber eyes warm as he listened. “So, how did it go?”

You smirked at James, enjoying his obvious discomfort. “He was a fast learner. By the end of it, I think I told him he’d do just fine.”

“You did,” James muttered, finally lowering his hands to reveal a sheepish grin. “And then you told me to stop panicking and just talk to her like a normal person.”

“And did you?” Lily asked, her tone both amused and affectionate.

James grinned, turning to her. “I think it worked out, don’t you?”

Lily rolled her eyes but leaned over to kiss his cheek, her smile softening. “I suppose it did.”

Sirius shook his head, still grinning. “Unbelievable. I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’re out here getting kissing lessons. Prongs, you’re a menace.”

James shrugged, his grin widening. “You're just jealous I got to her first.”

Remus leaned closer to you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “And you didn’t charge him a single Galleon for the service? You’re too kind.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “It was worth it just to see him blush this much.”

James groaned again, but the warmth and laughter in the room were undeniable, wrapping around you like a blanket. For the first time in a while, you felt lighter- like maybe you weren’t so lost after all.

As the laughter settled, you found yourself leaning into James’s embrace, the warmth of your loves surrounding you like a safety net you hadn’t realized you needed. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but with them by your side, you knew you’d figure it out- one day, one step, one laugh at a time.

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cjlouwho · 1 month ago

Text

This got a little long winded, so it gets its own post. The story you are about to read is based off of this poll. These are your choices.

Tommy was pretty sure he'd never felt a headache like this before. He wasn't prone to migraines, but he'd seen his mother suffer with them and this... well, this might be worse.

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning as a wave of nausea fell over him.

It wasn't just his head that hurt. It was his whole body.

Damn, he hadn't been this sick in... well, ever.

His body shook with chills. There was a heaviness in his chest that had him turning his head to the side and choking out a hard cough.

Once he finally settled, that heaviness still there, he slowly let out a raspy breath.

Pudding.

He wanted pudding.

That was odd. He used to crave pudding as a child. Every time he got sick, he would request a pudding cup. And that's what he wanted right now.

Maybe he still had one in the fridge. He'd kept a few things there for Jee back when- Well, he had some kid foods that had been sitting in his fridge for a couple months now. Surely, the pudding would still be fine.

If only he could get out of bed.

He made a mental note to order a new mattress. This one had lasted him quite a few years, but he was definitely feeling the lumps today. It was hard and painful and poked into his back.

“God, this sucks,” he breathed out, blinking his bleary eyes open and... oh.

This wasn't right.

He wasn't at home. Wasn't in his bed.

And the heaviness in his chest was actually on his chest.

That's when the memories came flooding back to him. Going for a flight on his day off. Wanting to clear his head and get his thoughts in order.

He couldn't panic. He needed to maintain focus.

That was hard to do when his brain was all jumbled.

He remembered his phone was... somewhere.

Shirt pocket! That was it!

Carefully, and painfully, he reached up and pulled out the phone.

Miraculously, it was still in one piece. Besides a few cracks to the screen, it seemed to be working fine.

He stared at the screen. The default background that was once a picture of him and Evan.

It hurt to breathe. Hurt to think. He knew he probably didn't have that much time. Not with the way this heavy piece of metal pressed against his body.

So, with fuzzy eyes, Tommy went to his contacts, hovering his finger over the name before pressing down.

“Hello?”

“H- Hey. Long time, n- no talk.”

“Tommy? What's up? Are you okay?”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I... Well, that's a loaded question.”

“You sound weird. What's wrong?”

“I wanted to a- apologize to you.” With a grimace, he swallowed down what was definitely blood.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

There was a pause, then, “Did you do something stupid?”

“Not intentionally,” he deadpanned. “Listen, I- I kinda got into an accident and I...” his voice trailed off as he went into a coughing fit. The movement sent a pain shooting from his leg to his back. “Damn it!” he yelled.

“Tommy! Tommy, talk to me. What do you mean you got in an accident?”

“No, it- it doesn't matter. I just wanted t- to apologize for the way I left you.”

“You apologized for that years ago, Tommy. Tell me what happened so I-”

“Abby!” he exclaimed, the hunk of metal over him creaked as it lowered slightly. “I don't... I just need to apologize. I- you loved me, didn't you?”

“Yeah, I did. Car crash, or were you flying?”

“F- Flying. I loved you too. Not... Not the same though. Sorry.”

He could hear her mumbling something to someone else, then she was back on the line. “I'm calling 911 with Sam's phone. Stay on the line with me, Tommy. Are you in LA?”

“Mhm. Do- Don't think I made it far. Abby, listen, I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you. I was so s- scared of- of everything.”

“Do you see anything around you? Any indicators for where you are? They're working on pinging your phone.”

When Tommy turned his head to the side, all he could see was trees. “Woods. I think. Can't see much. I was dating th- this guy.”

“Can you tell me where you're hurt? Are you bleeding anywhere?”

“Oh, for sure. But A- Abby, I didn't m- mean to hurt you.”

“Focus, please. Where are you bleeding?”

“Head. Leg. Mouth. Kinda e- everywhere. I was dating th- this guy,” Tommy sucked in a shaky breath, a rattling in his lungs. “Your guy, actually. O- Our guy?”

“Tommy, I think you're getting confused. I-”

“No, no. Evan. Buckley, Ev- Buck. Him.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“No, I'm here. I- You're dating Buck?”

“Was dating Buck. I- I ended it. I'm c- cold.”

“Help is on the way, Tommy, just stay with me. You broke up with Buck. Why?”

“Remember wh- when we went to karaoke nights? Th- That was fun, wasn't it?”

Abby sighed. “It was, but that's not what we're talking about.”

“Wh- What was the song we us- used to sing?”

“You were a big Queen fan. I Want to Break Free. Shoulda known,” she mumbled.

Tommy laughed, but it quickly turned into a coughing fit, where blood bubbled up in his mouth.

“Tommy! Tommy, stay calm, okay. Turn your head a little so you don't choke.”

Tommy listened, spitting out the blood before he continued. “We should karaoke again.”

“I don't think that's gonna happen. Tell me about Buck.”

“Evan.” Tears filled in Tommy's eyes and he tried his hardest to blink them away. “We were t- together six months and it all f- fell apart.”

“Why?”

“He wanted... wanted me to move in. Can you b- believe that?”

“Yeah, actually, I can,” she answered. “Buck likes to attach and you're, well, attachable.”

“No. No, I'm not.”

“You haven't changed much, Tommy. You didn't seem to think you were worthy when we were together either.”

Tommy's eyebrows furrowed. Down his back he could feel the sensation of more blood dripping from his neck. “What d- do you mean?”

“The whole time we were together it felt like you were waiting for a bomb to drop.”

“That probably had to do with the whole being gay thing.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “Maybe. Don't think so though. Hang on a second.”

He looked up at the hunk of metal trapping him in place. “Nowhere to go.”

Tommy closed his eyes while he waited. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but the next thing he remembered, Abby was yelling in his ear. “-mmy! Tommy, talk to me!”

“Wha- I'm here, I'm here. God, you're l- loud.”

“And you're an ass. If I was there I'd smack you on the back of the head.”

“That would hurt,” he replied. “With the gaping wound an- and all the blood.”

“Back to Buck. Why'd you say no to moving in?”

“I own a home.”

“And?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “I- I wasn't enough for you, Abby. Couldn't be.”

“Mhm.”

“I hurt you. Didn't m- mean to, but I did. I saw- I saw it in your eyes, when I left, I... You loved me, and I couldn't... I'm sorry.”

“Is that why you left?” Abby asked. “You were afraid Buck would do the same thing to you?”

“I really...” he couldn't stop the tears now. His chest heaved in the little space it had left. “I really loved him, Abby, and I- I saw what I did to you and I couldn't. I just co- co- couldn't-”

“Okay, okay, Tommy, I need you to stay calm, okay? Listen, the dispatcher is telling me that the 118 is close to you. So you stay calm and you talk to me!”

“O- Okay.” He tried to calm his breathing the best he could, but the rattle persisted. He knew that didn't mean anything good. Each breath got a little harder, the blood continued to flow down his neck, and he was pretty sure something was sticking through his leg.

“Did you tell him how you felt?”

“He didn't... He never said it. That he loved me.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Maybe he was waiting on you. Did you think of that?”

“I think...” He just wanted to close his eyes. Nothing made sense, the cold feeling was fading, he was going numb. “I think I- I'm dying, Abby.”

“No! Listen to me, Tommy! They're close to you! I need you to make a noise. Let them know where you are. You hear me?! Call for help, Tommy.”

“Abb-”

“Call for help!”

Tommy groaned, more blood coming up in his throat. He managed to move one arm just enough for his hand to knock on the door of the chopper. “H- Here!” he yelled, banging on the door as hard as he could manage. “I- I'm here!”

Abby listened over the phone as the 118 arrived on scene. She could only make out bits and pieces.

“Tommy, can.... me? Talk to... There ya go! We got a...”

“What about the...”

“Hey. Hey, we're here, Tommy. Just focus on... and we'll get ya out, okay?”

“He's losing too... gotta get that off now!”

“Tommy, you look at me! We will... you just gotta promise me you'll... Promise?”

She waited, holding her breath until she heard his voice, just a touch above a whisper. “Promise.”

Things got quieter for a bit, then she heard voices again, so she yelled, “Hey! Hey, pick up the phone! Someone pick it up!”

“H- Hello?”

“Buck, is that you?”

“Yeah, Abby, it- it's me,” he answered, his voice practically shaking. “Maddie said y- you were on the line with him.”

“Is he...?”

“He's alive. We're following the ambulance to the hospital.”

“How bad?”

She could hear Buck sniffling through the line. “I don't know how he's alive, Abby,” he admitted, lip trembling. “It looks like this thing has been through a compactor.”

“And Tommy?”

"Has a gash on the back of the head, concussion, broken ribs, a pretty big piece of glass through his leg, definitely some internal bleeding. He... Chim says he should make it, but we- we barely got here in time. He might've... if he wasn't talking to you he probably...” He couldn't even bring himself to say the words.

“Hey, don't think about that now. He's gonna be fine. That's what matters.”

“Yeah.” Buck ran a hand over his eyes as he nodded. “Yeah, you're right.”

“I'll let you go, Buck, but let me know when he's stable, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, Abby.”

“Of course. Oh, and Buck!” she quickly added before he could hangup.

“Yeah?”

“I know the guy pretty well. He loves you. He's just not great at being loved.”

“A- Abby-”

“Don't give up on him. He's worth it.” Before Buck could get in another word, she hung up.

*****

The next time Tommy opened his eyes, he was in a hospital bed.

Evan was beside him, staring down at an empty cup in his hands. Tommy figured he must've sensed the staring, because soon enough Buck was meeting his eyes. “You're awake,” he said, eyebrows rising.

“I-” Tommy cleared his throat. “I think so, yeah.”

“There's been a couple wake ups that didn't quite stick,” Buck explained, standing to grab cup of water. He put the straw to Tommy's mouth and had him take a sip. “Slowly,” he instructed. “Don't want you choking.”

Tommy took a few sips, then settled back in the bed. “How long was I out for?”

“Almost four days.”

Tommy's eyes widened. “You.. You haven't been here the whole time?” he asked. “Have you?”

Buck nodded. “Three nurses have tried to drag me out of here. All have failed.”

Tommy hoped the monitor didn't show how fast his heart felt like it was beating. “Wh- Why? Why'd you stay?”

Buck smiled, wrapping his shaky hand around Tommy's. “A mutual friend of ours told me you were worth it,” he said, his eyes glistening with tears. “I just so happen to agree.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #tw: blood #tw: near death

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cressidagrey · 3 months ago

Text

Holy Ground - Chapter 4

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

"You want to tell me what exactly you apologised for?" Cassian demanded as they left Azriel's bedroom.

Azriel was curled around his mate like a tortoise shell and Cassian was quite sure that Azriel was going to slaughter everybody that would even try to get close to Irena.

Without even a second of hesitation.

He had never seen Azriel so protective before, had never seen him so...possessive. It was almost scary how strongly his brother was reacting to almost losing his mate, how tightly he was curling himself around her like a shield. Cassian knew that mating bonds were intense, that they could drive instincts wild…Fuck, he had felt that all compassing need to pretect and claim himself…but…

But Azriel…he was radiating raw fear and intensity.

Rhys grimaced. "I fucked up," he said frankly.

"Yeah, I agree, given that our brother preferred to keep his mate a secret for 2 years than to actually talk to us.” Cassian let out a low sigh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "What exactly did you do that made him keep this from us?" he asked sharply, his voice tinged with frustration.

He didn't want to judge his brother, didn't want to assume that Rhys was the reason for Azriel's secrecy. But he couldn't help but wonder what had caused Azriel to keep something so important from them. And he couldn't help but feel a little hurt that he had been left out of something so significant in his brother's life.

It was frustrating and confusing, and it left Cassian feeling like there was a gulf between him and his brother that he didn't know how to bridge. He just wanted to understand, wanted to make sure that he hadn't done anything to make Azriel feel like he couldn't trust Cassian…

He knew that Azriel was a private person, that he valued his solitude and his privacy. But he had never expected him to keep his mating bond a secret for so long.

It stung a little, that Azriel had been able to hide something so significant for so long without any of them suspecting a thing.

"Around two years ago...I warned Azriel off Elain," Rhys admitted with a grimace. "I was not...particularly...appropriate with my word choices."

Azriel and Elain?! Cassian's eyes widened at the admission, his jaw dropping open in shock. "Elain?! You warned Azriel off Elain?" he asked incrediously. "I didn't even know that there was..."

"There wasn't. Not after...They...they nearly kissed during Solstice once, even with Lucien in the house and it was...I stopped them." Rhys admitted. "It was a political clusterfuck."

Cassian felt another rush of disbelief and anger wash over him at that. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, couldn't believe that Rhys had interfered in Azriel's personal life like that. "You had no right," he growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "You had no right to get involved in his love life like that, Rhys."

"I had every right," Rhys snapped. "Elain has a mate and so has Azriel, as we just found out."

"He didn't know that then," Cassian disagreed. "Elain and Azriel clearly had...something between them and yet you interfered. What exactly did you say to him?"

"I ordered him not to pursue her," Rhys admitted. "I told him to leave her alone. That if he needed to fuck somebody, he should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it."Cassian's eyes widened at the admission, his jaw clenching tight as he struggled to keep his temper in check.

"You...you ordered him?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You actually ordered him to stay away from a girl he clearly had feelings for? And then you...you told him to..." He trailed off, unable to even finish the sentence. He couldn't believe that Rhys had done something so callous and outright cruel to their brother. It was one thing to warn Azriel off of pursuing a girl who already had a mate. But to order him around like some kind of puppet and then insult him like that...it was beyond terrible. "Yeah. No fucking wonder, he didn't say a single word about Irena," Cassian growled under her breath. "You can probably consider yourself lucky that he didn't snap your neck for that, Rhys!"

Rhys winced at the words, his expression turning apologetic. "I know," he said quietly. "I'm...I don't really have an excuse. I was just...I thought I was doing what was best for him, for our Court. I didn't mean to..."

He trailed off, his voice shaking with emotion. Cassian could see how much his brother was struggling with this, how much the knowledge of what he had done was eating away at him. And he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Rhys, even as he was still seething with anger towards him.

He knew that Rhys had always tried to do what he thought was right, that he had always tried to protect their Court and their family. But sometimes...sometimes he made mistakes. And those mistakes had consequences, consequences that were often painful and devastating.

"I did apologise," Rhys said weakly.

"Oh, did you?" Cassian said with a snort. Rhys's apology did little to improve Cassian's temper, his anger still simmering just beneath the surface. "And that makes it all better then?" he demanded, his voice tinged with bitterness. "A simple apology fixes everything? Clearly it doesn't! Otherwise we would have known! Azriel would have told us that he met his mate!"

"What apology?" A voice behind them demanded, and Cassian should probably not be surprised to not only find his own mate there, but also Mor and his High Lady.

"Feyre Darling...Where is Nyx?" Rhys asked

"With Cerridwen. Don't change the topic," Feyre demanded. "What in the cauldron even happened?!"

Cassian let out a low sigh, shaking his head at the interruption. He couldn't help but feel a little grateful for the distraction, though. "Rhys told Azriel not to pursue Elain romantically three years ago.," he explained, his voice tight. "Ordered him to stay away, even. Azriel's been keeping his mate a secret from us for two years now."

He could see the shock and confusion on Feyre's face as he spoke, the disbelief that her mate could have done something so thoughtless and hurtful. He couldn't blame her, really. He was still struggling to wrap his head around it himself.

It didn't make any sense to him, how Rhys could have done something like that without realizing how much it would hurt their brother. How could someone who was supposed to be a High Lord, supposed to be their leader, be so blind to the pain of those he was supposed to protect? It was baffling and frustrating and it made Cassian's blood boil.

But he didn't have time to dwell on it, not right now. Not when they had bigger problems to worry about...like the fact that Azriel had a mate, a mate he had been hiding for two whole years. He knew what a mating bond felt like, knew how all-consuming and intense it could be.

The last thing he had expected was for Mor to start laughing."What?" Cassian snapped, his temper flaring up again. "What's so funny?"

Mor’s laughter continued, her body trembling as she struggled to catch her breath. "I'm sorry," she gasped, her voice choked with mirth as she grinned at him. "It's just...it's just so Azriel. Of course, he would keep his mate a secret for two whole years.”

Cassian stared at her in disbelief, his anger giving way to confusion. "That's what you find funny?" he asked incredulously. "That our brother kept his mate hidden for two bloody years?"

He couldn't understand why Mor would find that amusing, why she was laughing at something that was supposed to be a serious and painful secret. Didn't she know how much it must have hurt Azriel to keep his mate hidden for so long, to keep his feelings for her bottled up inside? Didn't she know how hard it must have been for him to keep up the facade of being fine, of being single and alone?

He couldn't wrap his head around it, couldn't make sense of Mor's humour in the situation. All he could feel was confusion and frustration, and a deep sadness for his brother who had to keep his mating bond a secret for so long.

He had always known that Azriel was a private person, that he didn't like to share his personal life with others. But he had never known that he could keep something like this a secret for so long. It was...it was almost scary, how good Azriel was at hiding his feelings and emotions.

“You find it funny, that Azriel didn’t trust any of us with her?” Nesta asked flatly.

Mor's laughter died down at Nesta's words, her expression turning somber. "No, of course not," she said quietly. "It's just...it's just typical Azriel. He's always been so careful about guarding his emotions, about keeping his love life hidden. I never would have guessed that he had a mate, let alone for two whole years."

“I am not surprised that he didn’t tell you,” Nesta bit out. “Not as you spend 500 years using his own feelings against him.

Mor flinched at Nesta's words, her expression turning pained. "Nesta, that's...that's not fair," she protested. "I never meant to hurt him. I never wanted to."

But Nesta wasn't finished, her eyes blazing with anger as she took a step towards Mor. "You spent five centuries playing with his heart, using him like some kind of toy. And now you're surprised that he didn't tell you about his mate? After everything you've put him through?"

Mor looked down, avoiding Nesta's gaze. "I...I know that I made mistakes," she said quietly. "But I never meant to hurt him."

Nesta scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Oh, please," she sneered. "You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew exactly how Azriel felt about you, and you used it to your advantage. You used him. And after the mating bond between you and Emerie snapped, you never tried to actually talk to him!“

Cassian nearly missed Rhys wincing. Nearly.

“You have anything to do with that too?” He asked darkly.

Rhys flinched at the accusation, his expression turning guilty. "I...I may have had something to do with it," he admitted quietly. "But I was just trying to help. I didn't mean..."

Cassian stared at his brother in disbelief, his anger rising up in him like a tidal wave. "You...you interfered? Again?" he hissed. “What did you tell Azriel?” He demanded.

Rhys sighed, picking a piece of invisible lint of his jacket. "I told him not to ruin this for Mor. That she went through enough.”

Cassian felt a wave of frustration wash over him at Rhys's words. "And you didn't think that maybe Azriel had enough as well?" he asked, his voice barely more than a growl.

He couldn't believe that Rhys had tried to interfere in Azriel's life again, that he had caused even more pain for their brother. And all for the sake of Mor, someone who had rejected Azriel time and time again. It was ridiculous and infuriating.

But the more he heard…the more he understood why Azriel had kept Irena a secret.

He had met his mate and had protected her fiercely, cossetted her away from any of them who could hurt them…had kept her to himself, so Rhys couldn’t say any other idiotic and harebrained thing…Had kept his mate to himself, because he adored her and hadn’t wanted to share. Which quite frankly, Cassian could absoltuely understand now.

And still… Cassian knew what a mating bond could do to someone, how intense and consuming it could be. And the thought that Azriel, their quiet and reserved brother, had had to keep that kind of intensity hidden for so long...it was almost too much for Cassian to fathom.

He didn't know how Azriel had managed it, how he had kept his mating bond a secret for so long without anyone else noticing. It must have been a monumental effort, a constant struggle to keep his emotions and instincts in check.

And the fact that he had done all of that alone, without any support or understanding from the rest of them...it broke Cassian's heart.

And Cassian himself had not made it better. How often had he teased his brother about his love life. Even, and maybe especially, when Azriel had told him to fuck off?

Too often, Cassian realized with a pang of guilt. He had never thought about how his teasing might have hurt Azriel, how it might have added to the burden of keeping his mating bond a secret.

He had always just assumed that they were all teasing each other in good fun, that it was harmless banter between siblings. But now...now he realized that maybe it hadn't been so harmless after all. Maybe it had been something much more cruel and damaging than he had ever intended.

He wished that he could take back every comment he had ever made about Azriel's love life, every joke he had ever made about his solitude. But he knew that he couldn't, that the damage had already been done.

Cassian could just hope that he could find a way to repair things with Azriel, to make amends for all of the hurt and pain that he had unintentionally caused. He just hoped that his brother would be able to forgive him, that they could move past this and build a stronger, more understanding relationship

But deep down, a nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that it might not be so easy. That the wounds inflicted by his words might run too deep to ever be fully healed.

And that thought scared him more than he cared to admit. It scared him to think that he might have forever damaged his relationship with his brother, that his careless words might have destroyed something that he had always taken for granted.

“I don’t even have the words right now,” Feyre said with a sigh.

Cassian glanced in her direction, seeing the pain and frustration written all over her face. He knew exactly what she meant. There were no words for this situation, for the hurt and confusion and betrayal that they were all feeling.

He could only imagine what Azriel must be going through right now, how much he must be struggling with his emotions and thoughts. And he had no idea how they were supposed to help him, how they could make things right again.

“I have no clue how we are supposed to fix this either,” Feyre continued.

Cassian nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over him. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Me neither."

“Leave him be,” Nesta said tightly. “He nearly lost his mate today.”

Cassian shot Nesta a sharp look, surprised by her words. "Leave him be?" he repeated. "You want to just leave him alone, after all of this?"

"He almost lost his mate today, Cassian," Nesta repeated, her voice tight with emotion. "Let him rest. Let him have some time, space. Let him have that without us bombarding him with questions and apologies."

Cassian considered her words for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt at the thought of bombarding his brother with more questions right now. He already had, hadn’t he? He knew that Nesta was right, that Azriel needed space and time to process everything that had happened. And he knew that they had already done enough damage as it was.

So he nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her suggestion. "Alright," he said quietly. "We'll give him space. For now."

He could only hope that it would be enough, that it would give Azriel the time and space he needed to heal and process everything that had happened. And he hoped, more than anything, that it would be enough for them to repair the damage that they had done to their brother's heart.

But until then, all he could do was wait. Wait and hope that someday, somehow, they could make things right again.

And in the meantime, he would try his best to be there for Azriel, to offer him support and understanding without pushing too hard. Because that was all he could do right now.

That, and wait for a chance to finally make amends for the mistakes he had made.

Because he knew that he had a lot to make up for, and he was determined to do whatever it took to earn Azriel's forgiveness. And to be a better brother from this point forward.

***

She was warm. She was safe. Azriel was holding her...and still...in the moment she first opened her eyes, all she could remember where these last few moments before.

Irena's heart raced as the memories flooded back, of Merrill's office...of how her fellow Priestess, her friend had been sniping at her the moment she entered her office.

"We need to talk, Merrill," Irena had said.

"If Meera complained, it's her own fault," Merrill had seethed. "I don't need her help anyway, I am quicker and better on my own."

And only then Irena had realised that Merrill had already been casting that spell.

"Merrill! Stop!" she had snapped. "You can't do that! It's too..." dangerous. Dangerous was what she had wanted to say. But the word stuck in her throat as Merrill chanted that spell and then...then hell broke loose.

Then the only thing she remembered was quite a lot of pain."

There was no pain now.

There was only Azriel. Only safety and warmth and the smell of cedars...she blinked open her eyes tiredly.

"Azriel," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyelids felt heavy, her body weak and boneless. But still, she felt a sense of relief wash over her as she saw him there, his arms strong and comforting around her.

She wanted to say more, to ask him if he was alright, to apologize for putting him through all of this. But she couldn't find the strength to speak, the words getting stuck in her throat. All she could do was cling to him, grateful for his presence and warmth.

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, clinging to her...and only a moment later she could feel his body shudder against her own. Shudder and the salty smell of tears

Irena's eyes widened in surprise as she realized that he was crying. She had never seen Azriel cry before, not once in all the time they had spent together. But now, he was crying, a quiet sob escaping him as he buried his face in her hair.

Her heart broke at the sound, at the vulnerability he was showing her. She raised a trembling hand to stroke his hair, her fingers tangling in the silky locks. "Azriel," she whispered softly, her voice barely audible. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm here."

She wanted to tell him that she was sorry, that she never meant to hurt him like this. But the words just wouldn't come, her mouth dry and her head still spinning. All she could do was hold him, trying to provide him with the only comfort she had the strength to give.

She didn't know how long they stayed like that, clinging to each other in silence. But eventually, Azriel's tears seemed to dry up, his sobs turning into sniffles and then to deep, shaky breaths.

She felt him press another soft kiss against her forehead, his lips warm and gentle against her skin. "I thought I lost you," he whispered, his voice barely more than a broken murmur. "I thought..."

She could hear the pain and fear in his voice, and it broke her heart even more. "Shhh," she said, still stroking his hair gently. "I'm here now. I'm alright."

She could feel him nod against her, his body slowly relaxing as he held her close. "I was so scared," he whispered. "I was so scared."

She tightened her grip around him, trying to reassure him with her presence. "I know," she said softly. "But I'm here, alright? I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Never. Not when she had a single choice in that matter.

She felt him nod again, his body finally relaxing completely against hers.

But for now, this was enough. Just being able to hold him, to feel him pressed against her, was enough. And she hoped, with all her heart, that it was enough for him too.

“How are you feeling? Are you in pain?” he asked her, his voice hoarse. “Are you…”

She looked up at Azriel, seeing the concern etched onto his features. "My abdomen hurts a little…so does my bad leg" she admitted. "But other than that, I feel fine. A little weak, but fine."

Azriel nodded, his expression still tight with worry. "Madja said that it might take a few days for you to fully recover," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But she was confident that you'll be okay."

Irena nodded, trying to smile reassuringly at him. "I'll be fine, Azriel," she said softly. "I just need some rest and I'll be good as new."

And time. Time to wrap her mind around the fact that her friend had died.

“She didn’t deserve that,” she whispered. Azriel knew what she was talking about.

“She didn’t,” he agreed softly.

“Was anybody else hurt?” Irena whispered, already hating to even contemplate it..

“Just you.”

She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of guilt wash over her. "It's all my fault," she murmured. "If I hadn't confronted her, if I hadn't..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. She could still remember the look on Merrill's face, the anger and hatred in her eyes. And she knew, deep down, that she had caused it.

Azriel's grip on her hand tightened, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her skin. "It wasn't your fault, Irena," he said firmly. "You didn't make her do what she did. You couldn't have known that she would lash out like that."

She wanted to believe him, to let herself off the hook. But the guilt was too heavy, too all-consuming. "I should have known," she whispered, her voice choked up with emotion. "I should have been more aware, more careful."

Azriel's expression softened, his eyes full of understanding. "You can't blame yourself for this, love," he said gently. "You can't control other people's actions, no matter how much you might want to."

She knew he was right, that she couldn't keep blaming herself for what had happened. But it was hard, so hard, to let go of that guilt. "I just...I never meant for any of this to happen," she said, tears filling her eyes.

Merrill had been brilliant. And yes, she had been snappy and cruel but she had also been funny and bright and…She hadn’t been horrible. Misunderstood maybe, not very nice sometimes but she wasn’t…she hadn’t deserved to die.

Azriel reached out, wiping away her tears with his thumb. "I know," he whispered, his voice full of tenderness. "I know you didn't."

She looked up at him, searching his face for any hint of blame or anger. But all she saw was kindness and understanding, and it almost broke her heart. "How can you be so good to me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "After everything..."

He cupped her face gently, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "Because I love you," he said simply, his eyes never leaving hers. "And nothing you can ever do will ever change that. This wasn’t your fault."

She felt a lump form in her throat at his words, her heart swelling with emotion. No one had ever loved her like this before, no one had ever made her feel so safe and cherished.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing as she felt him press a soft kiss against her forehead. "I love you, too," she whispered, her voice shaky with emotion. "More than anything."

Laying in his arms, was the most peace she had ever known.

“They know…about us,” Azriel said, exhaling softly. “I am sorry. I couldn’t…I couldn’t let them take you back to your room.”

Irena looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "They know?" she repeated. "They know about us...together?"

He didn’t need to tell her who they was. They was everybody.

Azriel nodded, his expression serious. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I knew you didn't want anyone to know yet, but I couldn't risk them sending you back alone. You were barely conscious and..." He trailed off, his voice tight with emotion.

Irena reached out, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. "It's okay," she said softly. "I understand." And she did understand. She knew that he had only been trying to protect her, to keep her safe. And she loved him even more for it. And she had wanted to be with him. She had wanted to be held by him. It was worth it. The simple comfort of his presence was worth all the other bullshit they would need to deal with.

Irena smiled up at him, trying to reassure him with her expression. "It doesn't matter if they know," she said. "As long as I have you, nothing else matters."

“It’s gonna be…difficult,” Azriel warned her with a grimace.

“I can deal with your brothers,” she promised him simply. She could. She did deal with them. Well, at least with the High Lord on a monthly basis. She could handle him.

Azriel let out a laugh, shaking his head. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he warned her, but there was a slight smile playing on his lips.

She just smiled at him, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips.

She would deal with whatever she needed. Because Azriel was worth it.

“Madja should be back soon…do you want a bath?” He asked her softly, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I can ask Gwyn or Roslin to come help you.“

Irena smiled gratefully. "Yes, a bath would be lovely," she said, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her. "But just a quick one."

Azriel nodded, his expression tender as he looked down at her. "I'll go get Gwyn," he said, brushing her hair away from her face. "You just rest for a moment."

“No,” Irena said softly. “You can help me.”

Azriel's expression softened at her words, his eyes filled with warmth. "Of course," he said gently. "Anything you need." He bent down, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her towards the bathroom. His touch was careful, his steps slow and steady, as if he was afraid of hurting her.

The shadows fluttered around, filling the bathtub, pouring something or other in there until it smelled amazing.

Irena breathed in deeply, feeling the tension in her body slowly begin to ease away. The warm, lavender-scented steam filled her nose, soothing her frayed nerves and calming her racing heart. "That smells amazing," she sighed, leaning against Azriel's chest. "What is it?"

“I have no clue,” he said drily. “I don’t get bubble baths,” he said with a pointed look at the shadows.

He put her down to sit on the edge of the enormous Bath Tub and then very carefully unwrapped the wrappings around her wounds, and her leg. The wounds were closed now, the upper layer knitted back together, but she could still feel them.

“Can you get out of the nightgown on your own?” Azriel asked her, hesitantly.

“Should be fine,” Irena promised.

She watched as he turned around, giving her some privacy. She was grateful for his consideration, but at the same time, she couldn't help feeling a little sad that he wasn't even going to sneak a peek. She shook the thought away, reaching out to tug off the nightgown and carefully lower herself into the tub.

The water was warm and soothing, and she let out a soft sigh as her body sank into it. Irena closed her eyes, feeling the tension slowly drain from her muscles. "This feels amazing," she murmured, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “You can come here,“ she said with some amusement, as he still stood at the doorway, presenting his back to her. His wings were flared as wide as they could get in the bathroom, rippling as muscles seemingly twitched beneath them.

Azriel turned back around, his expression a mix of amusement and relief. He stepped closer to the tub, kneeling down beside it. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice gentle. "I don't want to accidentally see something you don't want me to."

Irena laughed softly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "You're too chivalrous for your own good," she teased. "But I appreciate the thought. And yes, I'm sure. Come here."

Azriel nodded, his expression softening as he moved closer to her. He gently ran his fingers through her wet hair, brushing it away from her face. The touch was tender, almost reverent, and Irena leaned into it with a contented sigh. "That feels good," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Want me to wash your hair?” he offered her, his voice hesitant.

Like she was ever going to turn down that offer. Irena opened her eyes, looking up at him with a smile. "Yes, please," she said, leaning back further into the water. "I don't think I have the energy to lift my arms right now."

Azriel chuckled softly, reaching for a bottle of shampoo. He squirted a small amount into his palm before carefully working it into her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp in slow, soothing circles. The sensation was heavenly, and Irena closed her eyes again, simply enjoying the moment.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Azriel gently working the shampoo into her hair while Irena let herself relax completely. The warm water, the fragrant steam, and Azriel's gentle touch were all working together to ease away her aches and pains.

After a few more minutes, Azriel carefully rinsed her hair, his fingers tenderly brushing away any lingering soap suds. "All done," he said softly, his hands still buried in her hair. "Feeling better?"

She nodded, opening her eyes again and giving him a smile. "Much better," she said, feeling relaxed and drowsy. "Thank you."

Azriel returned the smile, his gaze full of affection. "You're very welcome, love" he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Let's get you out of here and back into bed before you fall asleep in the tub."

Irena laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "That's probably a good idea," she admitted. "I don't think falling asleep in the tub would do my injuries any favours."

He insisted on keeping his eyes closed again, but between him and the shadows, they had her dry and dressed in a nightgown quickly enough.

Azriel scooped her up again as soon as she was dressed, cradling her against his chest as he carried her back to the bed. He settled her gently onto the mattress, tucking the blankets around her before sitting down beside her.

“You know…next time…you should let me return the favour,” she said softly.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You want to wash my hair, huh?" he asked, his tone teasing. "Careful, I might take you up on that offer."

“You could join me in the tub,” she said softly, biting her lip.

Azriel's eyes darkened at her suggestion, his gaze intense as he looked down at her. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "I’ll have…some…bodily reaction to that,” he pointed out.

Her cheeks flushed but she kept a hold of his hand.

Irena swallowed, feeling a flutter of both nerves and excitement in her belly. But she didn't back down. "I'm sure," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want...I want to be close to you. Like that." She could see his hesitation and the faintest hint of doubt in his eyes.

But she knew that hesitation had nothing to do with lack of desire. It was simply that he was worried about her. Worried about hurting her, or pushing her too far. And she loved him all the more for it, but she also knew that she wanted this. Wanted him.

“Think about it. She said softly. “Maybe in a few weeeks?”

Azriel nodded, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. "In a few weeks," he agreed softly. "When you're healed." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Let's focus on getting you better first, hmm?"

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #Holy Ground

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firesnap · 1 year ago

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This is the only post I will be writing in regards to Wilbur Soot's statement.

It was a shit apology. I'm not going over that. We can analyze it to death but it absolutely reads like the apology of someone who is now represented by some label's legal team. The only thing I'm thankful for is that he did not release text messages between him and Shelby in some attempt to distract people. She doesn't deserve that embarrassment.

But, I really hope you read this, I need you to stop treating this like a party. I need you to stop giving every CC that speaks up about this a hit post or hit tweet by liking it.

Almost none of these people liked a single post of Shelby's or uttered the words "I'm so sorry for what Shelby went through" They waited until it was safe to say something. They waited until they could write a "coming in with a steel chair reply." They waited until they knew it would look good.

They revealed that Wilbur has always been manipulative, a narcissist a bully and mean to his friends. They revealed they've always thought he was a bad person. They've revealed that they don't think he's taking accountability while they stayed silent.

And not just silent for a few days. Some of these people are saying they knew for better for weeks, months, years that he was a horrible person. And they said nothing. They let people spend time and money and energy on a community of a person they knew was dangerous and cruel and they said nothing.

They didn't need Shelby Shubble to come forward and say how bad of a person Wilbur Soot was. They didn't need Shelby's story, if they thought he was a bad person, to not appear in videos with him or be in a group channel with him or mention him on stream or tease content with him or be on Anvil Cards or follow him on all social media platforms.

But they did anyway because, to these content creators, it's better to be silent and let a bad person flourish than cause "drama" online.

These people do not give fuck. I need you all to please take this advice that none of these online creators are worth the time and energy you put into them. You don't know what else they're sitting on. You don't know what they've done. You are lying to yourself, right now, if you think Phil or Tommy or Tubbo or Jack or whoever your current fave is wouldn't have been fine saying nothing if Shelby hadn't spoke first. You're lying to yourself if you think whatever new smp or content creator group you're currently into doesn't have horrible shit that they're all choosing to ignore.

The amount of manipulation required by these content creators to maintain the devotion and investment of their communities is horrific.

Do not trust your mental well being, your comfort, your whatever to these people. Any of them.

#wilbur soot

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nightingale-prompts · 5 months ago

Text

Finding Batboy

First| Previous | Next

Phantom

King

Fenton

Apprentice

Batboy

He just wanted to be Danny. Just Danny, nothing else.

But who was Danny anymore?

Danny was a 14-year-old boy who died in a tragic accident. Danny had a decent life with friends and a sister who he loved. Danny wanted to be an astronaut and loved the stars. Danny had an astrology phase that made him so annoying to everyone but Sam. Danny liked dogs and cats hated him for no reason no matter how much he loved them. Danny wanted to join the robotics club with Tucker. Danny still snuck into his sister's room when he was scared to sleep in her bed.

But Danny is dead. Danny has been dead for years now.

He missed being Danny.

Now he was Phantom.

No past.

No home.

No family.

But if that was true, what did that make Dick?

Just another person that he would have to leave behind. It wouldn't be long. History doesn't repeat but it rhymes. It can't last. It won't.

Danny flew to some abandoned factory located somewhere in Gotham. He hadn't really paid much attention. He just needed a desolate place to land. Somewhere even the ghosts have long abandoned.

Truthfully Danny didn't want to be alone. A part of him felt the urge to find that revenant that he had met. Something that felt familiar to him, someone that could understand.

But right now Danny wanted to rest and he wasn't picky about where. He wrapped his wings in a tight cocoon and plopped on the ground. His sleep was deep, more than he ever remembered having before, except once.

Danny walked through the halls of a spiraling tower that overlooked the Ghost Zone. The tower was decorated with stars and moons. Mist hovered just above the floor creating a icy blue carpet. Ghost sheep napped in corners. The scent of poppy and pine filled the air.

As Danny ascended to the top he met with a familiar face. Nocturne the ghost of dreams. The ghost's thick bridged nose reminded Danny of that of a sheep that matched his curled ramhorns. His red eyes with horizontal pupils reminded him of a demonic ram he had seen in a horror movie once. Danny could practically hear that line again: "Would thou like to live deliciously?"

It still gave Danny chills.

"Please refrain from making such comparisons." Nocturne said, his voice deep but soft at the same time.

Danny had gotten to know Nocturne some time ago. Apparently, he and Clockwork were close. They shared a high rank among ghosts as they were abstract manifestations rather then being that were once living like some. The hierarchy of ghosts was complex, and Nocturne was not someone to look down on.

"Nox, why am I here?" Danny said standing before the seven-foot frame of the amorphous ghost.

"You are spending too much time in the material realm. If you don't get time back in the realm to which you belong you'll go mad. It's already starting to happen. I stole your mind away for a bit to give you a mental break but your body is already starting to break down." Nocturne said waving a finger at him.

"My body and brain are fine Nox." Danny said crossing his arms.

Nocturne picked the boy up with one hand and held him at eye level.

"You are having trouble shifting are you not? Its not coming as easily as it should. The more attached you get to a form without the energy from our world to break it up the worse it will be. The Ghost of Time has already told me of the problem. You must stay here for the time being and recover. It is what's best. Mental weakness is the worst one can suffer and the remedy is sleep." Nocturne's breath smelled like warm milk and cinnamon. It calmed Danny's nerves and made his eyes heavy.

Clockwork had put him up to this. That old man...really was....annoying....Zzzz.

Back in the world of the living and awake mass panic has broken out.

Batboy is currently missing and Nightwing is not handling it well. The entirety of the Gotham Vigilantes team has been notified and is searching the cities of Gotham and Bludhaven.

"Have you searched the docks?" Nightwing asked frantically as he searched every rooftop in the city.

"I'm working on it. Do you really think he's here?" Red Robin said scanning every unit on the lot.

Red Hood didn't know what the BatBoy kid looked like other than the whole wings thing. If his little buddy Phantom could help it would help.

Although they had a slight resemblance Jason could see too many differences when looking at the pictures. Phantom had round ears, and silver hair that moved like fire and looked like a human. Batboy had long sharp ears, claws, pointy teeth, blueish-green skin, wings, and a white fluff around his neck. Clearly, they were different.

Batman searched the dark allies of Gotham as Signal and Orphan split up to cover as much ground as possible. Oracle searched every camera from the past few hours for the boy.

The good news was that Batboy was found. The bad news was who found him.

"Poor little Bluebird lost his fledgling and Batsy is looking for the lost pup. I should let them know that the little guy has been found! Ahahahaha!"

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dc x dp prompt #dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #nightwing #dick grayson #jason todd #red hood #red robin #tim drake #bruce wayne #dc joker

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lolxdswag123 · 3 months ago

Text

Just friends?

Percy Jackson x reader

Warnings: making out, I think that’s it tbh

——————————————————————————

My brain was fried. I had been working on homework and studying for hours all week. I had just about isolated myself in the library, and even managed to get on a first-name basis with the librarian.

I regretted my decision to take so many credits this semester, but I just got so excited when I got into New Rome University that I went a little overboard. The only person who was taking more classes than me was Annabeth- of course. She had spent some time with me in the library this week, but other than that I hadn't gotten any social interaction outside of my classes. I knew my best friend Percy was probably wondering where I was.

I submitted a paper that I didn't even have the energy to proofread. I just was hoping for the best at that point. Just as I clicked submit, I got a text notification on my computer. It was such a relief to be able to use normal technology at school. It was so hard in the mortal world to constantly explain why I couldn't have phone.

The text was from Percy.

Where have you been? Haven't seen you all week

I smiled, immediately pulling out my phone to text him back.

Library. So much work :(

I glanced over at the window, seeing that the sun had begun setting. I sighed, pulling out some of my notes to begin studying. I only got a few minutes in before my brain couldn’t take in any more, and I checked my phone once again. Percy had responded.

Got any free time tonight?

I rolled my eyes. ‘Only for you’ I thought, although I decided not to text it.

What do you have in mind?

After I sent that text, I tried my best to give my attention to my notes. Again, I failed. I wasn’t sure my brain could take in another ounce of information without giving up on me.

I slowly packed up my belongings, deciding it would be best for me to just go back to my dorm. When I exited the library, it was dark. I quickly walked back to my room. As soon as I got there, I dropped my backpack, changing into comfortable clothes. My phone buzzed again.

Want to come over?

I yawned, considering it, then deciding I didn’t have the energy to leave my dorm tonight.

Can you come here?

I hadn’t even finished putting my hair up when he responded.

On my way

I smiled, unlocking the door and turning on my tv before getting comfortable on my bed.

I was relieved to be seeing him again after my extremely long week. When we were growing up, we had gotten used to only seeing each other in the summer. At college however, we saw each other at least four times a week. Even when it’s doing small things— walking to class, going to the dining hall— we had really gotten used to eachother’s presence this year. It felt weird to go a week without seeing him.

I also was slightly relieved that it would just be the two of us tonight. I loved Annabeth so much, but I honestly didn’t have the social battery to interact with more than one person after my mental exhaustion. Plus, Annabeth would be doing homework all weekend anyways.

A few minutes after I’d gotten comfortable, I heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” I called.

A moment later, my best friend came walking through the door with a plastic bag and a cup carrier in his hand. I smiled, standing to close and lock the door behind him.

“Hey,” he said, setting the drinks on my desk.

“What’s this?” I asked, gesturing to the bag.

He shrugged, holding it up slightly, “I just assumed you’d be too busy to think about eating, so I picked up some take out for us.”

I beamed up at him, gratefully taking the bag and thanking him.

After being best friends with someone for almost ten years, you really get to learn how they work. Percy always was one that hit the nail on the head when it came to my habits. He was right, I probably would have forgotten about dinner if he hadn’t brought it.

He kicked his shoes off, jumping onto my bed and pointing to the drinks, “I also got some hot chocolate, I wasn’t sure if you wanted any, but I was stopping anyway.”

I nodded, smiling at him, “Thank you, Percy. You’re the best.”

We both sat on my bed, watching the new season of Outerbanks together as we ate our dinner. I tried my best to pay attention to the show, but I couldn’t stop myself from yawning and zoning out.

When we both finished our food, Percy stood, taking the trash from my bed and throwing it into my trash can. I yawned again.

“You okay? I can go if you want to just go to bed,” he said.

I shook my head, “I’m okay,” I said, patting the spot next to me, “stay a little.”

I knew that I needed sleep, but I missed his presence. It felt weird that this was the first time seeing him in days.

I layed down on my bed, getting comfortable and yawning again. Percy paused the show, taking his place next to me again and laying on his side to face me.

“My mom called today,” he said quietly.

“Yeah?” I said, “how is she doing?”

He chuckled, “she’s good, she said she’s happy you and Annabeth are here to ‘keep me in check’,” he said, using air quotes on the last bit.

I laughed, “seems like it’s the other way around right now, I wouldn’t have even remembered dinner if you didn’t bring it to me.”

He paused, rolling onto his back and fiddling with the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve. He didn’t say anything, and I could immediately tell that something was off.

“What’s up?” I said, still facing him. I found myself staring at his pretty face, and thinking about what Annabeth had been saying to me earlier that week. She always said that Percy and I should ‘stop pretending and just get together.’

It definitely wasn’t something that I could say I’ve never considered, I just couldn’t risk ruining the friendship. I’d seen several of my college friends lose their friends by taking it a step too far. I would never recover if I made things awkward between us.

He interrupted my thoughts, when he spoke again. “Paul and my mom asked about you.”

I smiled, moving slightly closer to him to get more comfortable, “Oh yeah? What did they say?”

He looked back down at his sleeve, fiddling with it again. He paused for another moment, before saying, “Just like— they keep asking about us…”

I hesitated, having an idea of what he meant, but I decided to push, “What do you mean?”

He sighed, tossing his arms down to his sides and staring back at the ceiling, “They like… make assumptions— just because we hangout so much.”

I nodded, deciding to question him further, “We hangout with Annabeth too most of the time.”

He glanced over at me, opening his mouth like he was about to say something, but turned back to the ceiling and began playing with his sleeve again.

I leaned forward to rest a hand on his arm, which he glanced at, before looking back at the ceiling.

I took a deep breath, realizing that he wasn’t going to speak up, so I did. “So they’re inquiring into the nature of our relationship?”

He snapped his head over to me, brows furrowing in confusion.

I laughed, “They are asking if we’re really just friends?”

He turned his head back to face the ceiling, “Ohhhh, yeah. Pretty much.”

I nodded, removing my hand from his arm and propping myself up slightly to get a better look at his face.

“And what did you say?” I asked.

He turned on his side, fully facing me now, and propped himself up on his arm so we were looking at eachother.

He breathed in, before saying, “I said I’m not really sure.”

I nodded, looking into his eyes and knowing where this conversation was leading. We’d been putting it off for years. It scared me. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but looking into his sea-green eyes I knew that I couldn’t keep pretending.

“You’re not really sure?” I asked, cocking my head slightly to the side.

“I mean…” he started, and I watched his eyes scan my face before continuing, “I don’t know. It felt weird not seeing you this week. Like… I missed you.”

I laughed at his awkwardness, but said, “I missed you too, Percy.”

I swore I could see his gaze flicker down to my lips for a millisecond, but I chose to ignore it. It made me feel tense and my heart started racing.

He sighed, nodding, but sounding confident when he said,“What should I say then, next time they ask?”

I could feel my face heat up. I can’t keep dodging this. I can’t avoid it forever.

“What do you want to say?” I asked, trying to stall so that I wouldn’t have to make any decisions.

He pursed his lips, but didn’t lose his confidence, “I think it’d be fair to say that we’re not really just friends. And that we should have had this conversation a while ago.”

I nodded. Of course he knew what I was thinking. How could he not? We know each other almost as well as we know ourselves.

I swallowed, and my voice came out as a whisper, “I think that’d be fair to say.”

He nodded, and his gaze flickered down to my lips again, only slightly more noticeably this time.

I cleared my throat, my heart racing, “So if not friends, then what?” I asked quietly.

He searched my face, and I could feel his breath now. I wasn’t sure when we had gotten so close, but we were really close.

It’s not that I had never kissed a guy, I had. They’d all just been with people I never really cared about. I knew somewhere deep down that I would never really like anyone else. He was always in the back of my mind. And now with his breath on my face, I was nervous. We’d never crossed the line in our friendship beyond the occasional cuddle, but even that was rare.

“What do you want us to be?” He flipped the question on me, and his lip quirked into a small grin.

I paused, not knowing what to say. I searched his face, eyes focusing on his lips for a second longer than they should’ve.

“Can I be honest?” I whispered, eyes falling to his lips again before meeting his eyes.

He nodded, his eyes falling to my lips too. I could hear his breath quicken as the distance between us seemed to shrink.

“I’ve known we should’ve had this conversation for a long time, but now that we’re having it I don’t really know what to say,” I said, and his gaze returned to my eyes, “I really care about you, Percy.”

He nodded, “I really care about you, too.”

We stared at eachother, neither of us knowing what to do. Neither of us had ever been in a real relationship before. It was new territory for both of us. But of course Percy always knows exactly what to say.

“Will you go out with me? Tomorrow night?” He asked, before quickly saying, “Unless you have too much work, I mean.”

I smiled, feeling a fluttery sensation in my stomach before saying, “I’d love to.”

He nodded, scooting closer to me, “Yeah?”

I nodded, biting my lip and smiling, “Yeah.”

Our faces were inches from each other now. I let my gaze fall to his lips, and his hand reached out to rest on my jaw.

Slowly, he finally leaned in. His lips touched mine, softly at first, like he was scared that if he moved too fast, he might break me. I let out a soft exhale through my mode, and he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. I could feel his hand slide from my jaw to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair.

We pulled away for a moment, both of us breathing heavy, and looking deeply into eachothers eyes. We both had massive grins painted on our face. Without a second thought, our lips were on eachothers again.

The room suddenly felt hot. My hands made their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my finger tips. All I can think is— why did we wait so long? I let my fingers curl in his shirt, bringing him closer, as the kiss quickly grows more urgent, more intense.

He held me tightly, like he was afraid I might slip away. I felt his hand slide down to my waist, pressing me against him. I let out a quiet gasp as he pulled me onto his lap, firmly guiding me until I straddled him. Nothing else mattered. Just him, our lips, the feeling of our bodies so close together after so many years.

His fingers hesitantly trailed up under my shirt, the touch sending shivers through me as he let his fingertips move along my bare skin. I could feel my breathing pick up, my hands sliding up to his shoulders. I found the courage to tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. He pulled away, breaking the kiss just long enough to let me lift it over his head, revealing the warm skin beneath. My hands explored his chest, his shoulders, feeling every inch of him as he watched me with that soft, intense gaze, like he’s waiting for my every move.

He slowly pushed my shirt up, and I shakily lifted my arms, letting him slide it off. When it was off, we locked eyes, still smiling like idiots. His hands quickly found my waist again, his fingers splaying across my back as he pulled me close, his lips finding mine once more. I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine, the slight brush of his chest as I pressed myself against him, feeling his heart racing just as fast as mine.

He grabbed my hips, encouraging me to move back and forth. I gasped into the kiss, and began grinding with his grip. We moved together, the friction between us heavy, and I let out a quiet moan. I couldn’t believe we were really doing this. I felt him shiver at the sound, his breath catching as he presses his forehead to mine, pulling away from the kiss but not stopping his movements.

“Gods,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely more than a breath. “I’ve wanted us for so long.”

I could almost feel tears prickle in my eyes, as I breathlessly replied, “Me too.”

He leaned down, kissing my neck with an intensity that I never knew he was capable of. He nipped and kissed, only pausing to mumble, “Since we were 15.”

His confession sent a surge of warmth through me, my hands moving to explore his back, tracing the muscles there. The muscles that I was so familiar with. That I’d seen in battle countless times.

I felt him shudder, his grip on my waist tightening as he lifted his head from my neck, pressing me against him with a need that matched my own. I rolled my hips, feeling the heat build, and he let out a low, breathless groan, his fingers digging into my skin as he joined our lips together again.

Our kiss was electric, heavy, and full of everything we wanted to say and do to each other for years. I leaned into him, pressing my forehead to his, feeling the warmth of his skin. My eyes welled when he stopped moving our hips together, and I saw the soft, vulnerable smile that played at his lips as he whispered my name like a promise.

I whispered his back, feeling my heart fill with an affection that I’d been holding back all these years.

We stayed like that for a while, embracing each other with a few soft, stolen kisses every now and then. We whispered to each other about how happy we were, and he suggested a few dinner places for tomorrow night.

Eventually, we decided to lay down together, but when I finally got comfortable he sat up, saying it’s late and he should probably let me sleep.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes, “Stay, dummy.”

He smiled brightly, and layed back down, embracing me again. We fell asleep like that, only to be woken up the next morning by a knock on my door. I hadn’t been expecting anyone, but I nudged Percy awake.

We looked at each other, wide eyed, and scrambled to find our shirts and fix our appearances.

The knock came again.

“Just a second!” I called out, combing through my hair with my fingers as Percy carefully straightened out my blankets. He gave me a thumbs up when it looked satisfactory.

I nodded, turning to open the door. There stood Annabeth, open notebook in hand, not looking up yet but saying, “Gods, what took you so long?”

I looked at Percy for help, before hesitantly saying, “Sorry, my room was a mess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, looking up suspiciously, when her eyes caught on Percy. She smirked, closing her book and looking between us.

She checked her watch with a knowing smirk, “Wow, Percy, what are you doing here so early?”

I could feel my face heat up, as Percy struggled to find his words.

“I- uhhh… yeah…” he so eloquently said.

Annabeth shook her head, smiling at us. “It’s about time. I’m going to the library, was just going to see if you wanted to come, but obviously you’re already occupied.” She said, turning and walking back down the hall.

I closed the door as she walked away, and Percy’s face was just as bright red as mine felt.

We stared at eachother for a moment, both of us unsure of what to do.

“Wanna get back in bed?” Percy asked, scratching the back of his neck.

I smiled, taking his hand and dragging him back up to my bed. “I’d love to.”

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mae-gi-writes · 3 months ago

Text

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (1)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

---- part one | next part >>>

You know Kuroo Tetsurou before you officially meet him.

Why? Because he's practically a legend to your current four-year-old who's been talking about him nonstop from the moment you've strapped her into the car on the way back home.

"Apparently he was a--a volleyball champ!" Sakura chimes from the back as you swerve into the right lane in the direction of your tiny flat, "he knows how to serve from faaaar away, and --and when he serves, it's like--kapow! and boom! and whoosh! like that!"

You can't help but laugh because seeing your daughter so excited about volleyball is something you hadn't been expecting, not when you have two left feet and a stamina of a tiny pet rat.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your first week back," you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror with a smile, "that's good isn't it? Better than last year then?"

"Yes! I love Kuroo sensei!"

It seems that this particular teacher has specifically changed Sakura's view on school, and you had made a mental note to thank him.

But all thoughts of thank-yous and praise had flown out of your head the moment you bump into the said PE teacher in the corridor leading up to Sakura's class the next morning.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You cry out, bending down to help him pick up the stack of papers that are now flying about and scattering at your feet, "here, let me help you--"

"It's Kuroo sensei!" Sakura chirps suddenly, causing your eyes to snap up at him.

Oh. So that's the PE teacher she's been gushing about all week. You're quick to shove the papers into a messy pile before handing them out to him, "I'm really sorry about that," you say sheepishly.

"Nothing to worry about," his deep voice is what catches your attention at first, followed by his height as he straightens up so that you get a clear view of his facce; angular features, honey-golden eyes that blink slowly at you in a way that makes you want to squirm, and messy dark raven locks that looks like he's just rolled out of bed five minutes ago.

Not that you won't mind if he rolled out of your bed, you mind chanted without warning.

You stop it as soon as it surfaces, horror and panic crashing into you at the same time. This man is--what? Probably half your age?

"Kuroo sensei! Do we have class with you later?" Sakura, unknowing of all the tormenting thoughts flickering past your brain, seems all too excited to see her PE teacher.

He chuckles lightly before ruffling her short bangs, "not today, little munchkin," he leans down to see her face, "but I'm pretty certain that we have class tomorrow. How about that?"

"Oh really? Yay!" Sakura claps, beaming up at him like he's just put a new sun in her sky, and Kuroo grins before straightening up once more, gold eyes clashing against your dark maroon.

"I don't think we've met," his voice, it's so deep and gravelly that it makes you want to swoon. You snap out of it the moment you spot his outstretched hand, "I'm Kuroo Tetsurou, the new PE teacher."

"So you're the new teacher that Sakura's been talking about all this time," you send him a shy smile as you shake his hand, realizing that his palm practically dwarfs yours in comparison, "it's nice to meet you. I'm Sakura's mum. How are you enjoying the school?"

"It's been really great actually," his grin widens. He has a beautiful smile, one that will easily make all the ladies of staff fall at his feet, "I'm slowly finding my way around the timetable, but other than that it's been smooth-sailing till now."

You nod, "that's great. I'm glad to hear," and then turn to your daughter, "you know where your class is right?"

"Of course I know mum," Sakura folds her arms across her chest indignantly.

You laugh, ruffling her hair before ushering her onwards, "alright alright. Yes, you're a big now. Then off you go."

You both watch her teeter down the hall, sometimes almost falling off-balance due to her newly-acquired skill of running with the weight of her bag around her shoulders, and fondness explodes across your chest. It's sweet and bitter at the same time, watching your daughter grow day by day. She's always changing, you realize, every day is a new one, maybe her hair gets longer, or you find a new mole along her face. It's like she's growing so fast you barely have time to savour it.

"Cute kid you have there."

You realize you're not alone upon hearing the familiar scratchy alto, and quickly blink back to reality, "ah--thank you. She can be a handful when she wants. Sometimes."

"All kids are," Kuroo tilts his head towards you, a smile on his face, "but sometimes I think they know more than we do."

You can't help but chortle, "definitely. Sakura's practically a know-it-all. She's in the phase of correcting everything that I say."

"Ooh, a bit bossy huh?"

"Tell me about it."

It's then that the bell rings, disrupting any kind of moment you might have with the PE teacher.

"Anyway," you dip your head into a small bow, "thank you for taking care of Sakura."

"It's really no trouble, miss...?"

"It's Y/N. Y/N Kosuke."

"Y/N," his golden orbs locks on yours, swirling with a kind of playfulness, with a warmth that makes your heart stutter, "well, I shall see you around, Ms. Kosuke-san."

And with that, he swerves away with a small wave as you watch his broad back disappear down the hallway, wondering whether it's stupid to imagine whether he'd winked at you or not.

Probably not.

Because why would anyone be interested in a mom right?

-----

The second time you bump into Kuroo Tetsurou is during Sports Day.

You remember back when you were in high school, how you'd always find an excuse to skip out on the activities -- feigning your period or cramps just to get to the nurse's office and away from your classmates -- just so that you could sit and daydream about anything and just about everything. You weren't that popular in your cohort, making it easy for you to disappear whenever you wished. But despite that, you could count on your hands the number of times you'd replaced someone and failed to deliver, causing wave after wave of disappointment as you lost team points as a result.

But now, as a grown up responsible for a child and always accustomed to doing whatever they liked even if that meant bringing you unhappiness or shame, you were obliged to attend such events. Actually enjoyed being there and watching Sakura giving it her all despite her short limbs and her lack of talent in sports. From what you can see, she clearly hasn't taken from her dad's side. Every single flaw in physical movement comes down from your side of the family and at the thought, a smile curves at the edges of your lips as you proceed to clap even harder.

"Is Papa going to be there tomorrow?" asks your daughter the night before as you're tucking her into bed. Her wide eyes are staring up at you like you're the one who can change anything in her world. And yet, just the thought that you can't grant her this one wish makes your heart quake.

You press a soft kiss along her forehead before smoothing over her features, "i'm sorry honey. I'm not sure if he'll be able to come tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"He has work to do. But he promises to be there this weekend," you try to smile, though it's hard when Sakura's face doesn't light up like it usually does at the mention of her father. That's when you prod, "everything okay, Sakura?"

Your daughter merely turns away to hide her face against her pillow. Her mumble comes out soft and practically a whisper. But you can still hear her loud and clear.

"Why doesn't he ever come?"

Your heart drops to your stomach. You move to hug her, in hopes of appeasing the pain she feels. But she's right, you can't do anything about it. About this. It's a selfish act, the act of divorcing the one whom you thought would've been your lifelong partner till the day you die. And yet, you hadn't been strong enough for her sake.

And Sakura's the one victim to all consequences that follow.

Because how can you tell her? That her father has decided to choose someone else -- another woman, instead of staying by his family and taking on his responsibilities as he should? How could you tell her that her own father has abandoned her?

Sakura isn't stupid. She's well aware of everything that happens around her. But such words coming out of her own mouth causes your own eyes to burn with tears.

"Papa loves you. He's just--busy with work. But you know that he loves you so so much right?" you hope that your murmur is enough to appease her.

And it does, for now.

Sakura snuggles closer to your bosom, small fingers gripping your t-shirt as though she doesn't want you to leave, "will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she murmurs through closed eyelids.

You nod, smooth one hand over her forehead, "yeah. Sleep now, okay? Tomorrow's a big day."

Hence the reason why you're here. Burning under the midday sun. Hat poised over your head, and a piece of stray paper from your office that you're using as a makeshift fan.

Until now, it's proven itself useless in response to the heat.

"Come on, Greens!"

That familiar alto. Raspy and velvet like chocolate. It makes your eyes swipe right to the source only to see none other than the PE coach.

Kuroo Tetsurou is bathed in sweat as he stands by the sidelines, cap over his messy hair and eyes never straying from the row of students balancing potatoes across their tiny spoons. His t-shirt is practically soaked through from the back, showing off his array of muscles twisting and twining like vines around a bark of a tree, and when he crosses his arms over his chest you take note of the swell of his biceps. Taunting, tantalizing.

He's a catch, is what your mind thinks.

You shut it down immediately. What's the point of daydreaming when you're not ready to commit to anything? Not even a fling?

No. You'd much rather stay alone. You know exactly how it feels like to be loved and to lose that love by someone whom you thought had your heart as much as you had his. And you weren't in a rush to fall into that trap once again.

It's finally Sakura's turn and almost subconsciously, you straighten up in the bleachers to get a better look at your daughter all decked in Blue. She's holding out her spoon, tongue sticking out in concentration just as a teacher places a potato right in the middle of it.

Catching your eye from where you sit, she gives you a wide beam, all teeth, and you grin back, doing a silly little wriggle of your fingers. You do the mistake of glancing back towards your right only to meet the PE coach's eyes by mistake.

He grins a Cheshire cat smile, as if he knows that he's been caught but he doesn't care, and your own smile turns shy, ducking your head and soon averting your eyes.

The whistle sounds. The race is on.

"C'mon Sakura!" You yell as loud as you can, watching your daughter waddle in what you hope is a straight line. She's second at this point, trying hard not to lose her potato as her classmate -- a red -- blunders right through without hesitation, "C'mon Sakura! You can do it!"

Your daughter all but wobbles, lips parted in concentration as another boy zooms past. You cup your lips using your hands and shout with all your might, "C'mon Sakura! Faster!"

She finishes in third place, not a bad start for her sports confidence, and comes running straight up to you so that you pick her up with a whoop.

"That's my girl!" You nuzzle into her sweaty hair, "aren't you a big champ?!"

"Did you see mum?! I'm third!" she flaps her arms around, "I'm third! Will I get a medal?!"

"You sure will," you pinch her cheek, "and you did great! I didn't know you were good at balancing potatoes!"

"Next time I'll come in first!"

"Then we'll have to practice at home," you chuckle.

It isn't until the end of the Sports day that Kuroo Tetsurou finds you amidst the horde of parents making their way to the parking lot.

"Hey," he calls out to you as you're opening your trunk. You wave at him, slightly embarrassed as you recall the way he'd locked eyes with you briefly on the field. You strive for nonchalance as you say, "how's it going, coach?"

"Not bad, how about you?" he walks straight up to the car, waving at Sakura from the backseat before turning his attention back on you. You and the multiple bags you're organizing, "what's this?"

"Oh it's for an event," you huff out and pull a bag up into the trunk.

"Here," Kuroo's hand reaches for the next one, "let me help."

"Oh--uhm--" you weren't expecting such chivalry. Heat rises to the back of your neck and you're glad it's a hot summer's day, for you're quite certain your cheeks are flaming, "thank you."

"No problem," he sets the last bag into the trunk, pushing it all the way so that it's secure, "what kind of event is it anyway?"

"It's a corporate event," you explain as he closes the trunk for you, "I'm an event planner."

Something lights up in his golden pupils. He whistles, "haven't heard of that one before," a small smile curves at his lips, "what's the weirdest event you'd had to plan?"

"Oh don't get me started on that," you shudder, "I once had a themed birthday party, but they wanted their party to be set in changing rooms, with the theme 'haunted toilets'."

"Wha--no way," Kuroo bursts out laughing. He has a very nice smile, and a laugh that is contagious. You can't help but grin at him, "is that even legal?"

"Well if they pay you to hire your changing rooms, wouldn't you do it?"

“I suppose so,” you snort, “as long as they pay me.”

He chuckles once more, the sound rumbling through his chest and almost making you swoon. God, he's attractive, even more so when he's all sweaty for some unknown reason.

You hurriedly try to end conversation when you feel your tummy tingle with those familiar butterflies, "well--It was nice meeting you again, Coach."

"Likewise," he tips his head towards you, "and I think you've got yourself a pro athlete back there."

That makes you chortle, "I'm not quite sure, Sakura's been graced with my lack of coordination."

"I wouldn't say so. She came in third, didn't she?"

"You're right," a small smile curves at your lips, "well anyway, thank you. For everything. You're probably exhausted."

"I am, but you're good company," he grins.

Butterflies erupt through your chest and you know without a doubt that this is your cue to leave, and quickly bow to him, "thanks again Coach, see you around."

"See you," a pause, before he adds, "get home safe."

These are simple words, won't that do't matter as much and can be said oh-so-politely. But still, it makes your heart beat so fast you feel it echoing through your chest. You try not to show him your blush as you slide into the driver's seat and watch him raise a hand in mid-wave as you pull out of the parking lot. Sakura waves back with as much excitement and you wonder briefly whether she likes him so much because of the lack of father figure in your household.

Your phone rings then and you scramble for it from the passenger seat, barely able to press down on the green button as you keep your eyes on the road.

"Hello," you place it on loudspeaker and drop it to your lap as you make a turn for the motorway, "hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Oh.

"Papa!" Sakura's exclamation comes from the back, almost makes you skid off the road as you quickly right yourself with a silent curse. Why in the world is he calling now? It's almost like he knows you were having a good time.

"Aoi," your mumble spills out, "how are you?"

"Good, good." a small pause. "how was sports day?"

"Was great, you missed Sakura in her potato-run," you try not to let the bitterness affect your tone, though it's harder to manage than expected, "how was Cali?"

"Very nice actually, Sakura would've loved it. It's warm, with beaches, and people are always doing stuff. It's a nice city."

Of course it's nice when his new wife owns a mansion and no fees are to be paid for the household. Especially nice when his new wife's family has a multi-national jewelry business and a cash flow that seems neverending.

So you cut to the chase, "why'd you call?"

"Jeez y/n," he laughs, "so brutal. Can't I even ask you how you've been?"

"I've been well, so has Sakura," your patience is running thin, "so tell me, why'd you call? Isn't it like midnight over there?"

"Actually it's still morning," there's amusement in his tone, the kind that makes you want to hurl something at him, "but anyway, I was calling to let you know about the papers."

He doesn't have to mention which papers. You know exactly what he's talking about, "what about them?"

"I've already signed them and sent them your way. You should be receiving them by the end of the week."

"Yes, and?"

There's a bout of hesitation from his side, "and I'd appreciate it if you could sign it as quickly as possible."

Another needle to your gut, "that's fine but...why the rush?"

"Ah well," you don't have to see him to know that he's currently scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his whenever he's unsure or nervous. You hate that you know that about him, "we're--we might be getting married in a few months."

You're so shocked you almost barrel straight into the vehicle in front of you.

-----

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lost-and-ephemeral · 1 year ago

Note

Could you please do LDS boys +

Caleb reacting to reader being injured/severely injured?<3

HCs: You're Injured (ft. main trio + Caleb)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, Caleb x reader (seperate)

Tags: hurt/comfort, reader is injured but won't die

A/N: Thanks for your request! First time writing for Caleb, yay. Sorry if it isn't good enough, I'm not feeling so good since morning.

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Caleb

"Hold on, pip-squeak, I'm right here."

Your exhausted body, covered in wounds from the battle with Wanderer, was ready to collapse to the ground if Caleb hadn't caught you in time.

He knew how dangerous your job was, but that didn't make him any less worried.

You protected him but got hurt in the process.

He's frustrated and angry because there's no way he could've protected you in that situation.

And Caleb just hates this feeling, but trying to stay calm for your sake. His emotions could only make everything worse.

"Sometimes even big girls need someone else's help. Right? And I'm here for you."

Concern was written all over his face, he couldn't hide it even if he really tried. The last thing he wanted was to see you hurt, especially like this.

He was supposed to be your main protector back then. But now things have changed.

You had really grown a lot, not just physically, but mentally too.

It was just hard to accept you're no longer a little girl.

Yes, you are strong and mature. But Caleb kept holding you like you were the most fragile being in the world.

He will give you first aid as quickly as he can, while calling an ambulance. Caleb is not the kind of person who would risk your life trying to handle this situation on his own.

Definitely going to the hospital with you while holding your hand and talking to you. He'll be around as long as it takes.

Probably will fall asleep on the chair near your hospital bed.

No doubt he'll continue to look after you like he did when you both were younger.

Rafayel

"No, no, no. Don't even think about leaving me like this!"

Maybe sometimes Rafayel was overly dramatic, but he's actually afraid of losing you again.

When he saw that you were injured after not-so-pleasant encounter with Wanderers, his facade of self-confidence instantly cracked.

Rafayel started panicking and it was clear from the look on his face as he crouched beside you, seeing how you trying to cover the wound by your bloody hands.

Not again. No.

All these years he had to watch you die over and over again, losing all memories of him.

Rafayel instantly began to examine your wounds, holding you close. He didn't care if his perfectly white shirt will be covered in blood as well.

He needed to be sure you won't die this time.

And his playful attitude is gone completely.

"Don't you dare to die on me, you hear? I won't forgive you. Ever. Promise me. Promise me you won't die."

He tried to remain calm and ignore the suffocating feeling of anxiety that has been slowly rising in his chest. But he couldn't.

Will do everything to stop the bleeding while help is on it's way. You can feel his hands trembling.

He'd better die for you himself, not vice versa.

I swear, this man is gonna get the whole hospital on alert. Nurses and doctors can be mad at him as much as they want. It doesn't matter to him.

Rafayel won't rest and eat properly until you get better. He just physically can't.

"Don't scare me like this ever again, please."

Xavier

"I failed you."

You accidentaly got injured during your mission. And poor Xavier decided it was totally his fault.

You both found yourself surrounded by enemies and before he could even react, one of them attacked you, leaving a deep wound on your side.

Needless to say, in the next couple of seconds all Wanderers were completely destroyed, and Xavier was fully focused on you.

This isn't the first time you've been injured during a mission. But each time Xavier is as worried as always.

Especially when your injuries are so severe.

Will administer first aid on the spot, even the bare minimum, before carrying you to safety.

With Wanderers around, it's not going to be easy to get you out of this dangerous zone. So Xavier needs to stabilize you a little at first.

"I won't let you get hurt again. I promise."

He is already experienced in these situations, so he's able to keep his emotions under control. But that doesn't mean that deep inside he isn't worried sick about you.

Will be looking for anything to treat your wound and avoid infection.

Guilt will slowly eat him up from the inside no matter what. He had to protect you, but he failed to do so.

Even if you assure him it's just an accident, Xavier just shakes his head in response.

As soon as you can get out, he'll take you to the hospital. It is unlikely that his skills will be enough to make your wound heal properly.

Better safe than sorry.

He still has a lot of work to do, but he'll come to you whenever he has a spare minute.

Will probably act like a guilty puppy for a long time.

Zayne

"You're constantly putting yourself in danger."

Zayne has a hard time showing his feelings openly, especially when it comes to you, so it's no surprise that his display of concern felt like he was scolding you.

But in reality he's really, really worried about you every time.

He knew right away that you were in the hospital after another accident.

And as soon as Zayne had some time off between surgeries, he came to you.

Looking at you in the hospital bed, he felt his heart ache.

While he was desperately searching for a cure for your heart, you kept getting hurt again and again.

Even when you smiled, like if trying to reassure him everything's fine, Zayne only sighed and shook his head. You have no idea how hard it was to see you hurt and vulnerable like this.

He's already been informed of the severity of your wounds and how much blood you've lost.

And he could've lost you.

But Zayne can't let his emotions take over. There are still a few more difficult surgeries ahead where he cannot afford to make a mistake.

And if he starts panicking right in front of you, it's not going to speed up the healing process.

"I'd be happy if you took a more responsible approach to your health. Then I wouldn't have to be so worried."

He moved his chair closer to your bed and sat in silence for a while, squeezing your hand.

Zayne will stay around as long as his job lets him.

Don't be surprised to find candies or plushies you wanted on your nightstand.

You can ask him about these little gifts.

And watch carefully as a faint smile appears on his lips.

"Usually only children get so excited about toys. So it turns out you're not that far from being a child?"

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader

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gor3-hound · 1 year ago

Text

don't hold your breath(nobody's home)

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk

a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3

word count: 1.9k words

Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.

He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.

Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.

He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.

Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.

He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.

He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.

Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.

Fuck this.

He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance.

He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.

“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.

“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”

Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.

Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.

You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”

He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.

“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”

There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?

He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.

“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.

You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.

“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.

“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”

Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.

“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.

“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.

“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”

“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”

That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.

“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”

Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.

He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.

“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.

When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.

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