#subconsciously he missed it and wished he had it back

[fallenangelblade]

headcanon that when dean gets to heaven, the handprint reappears on his shoulder. because even if it was removed from his mortal body, it couldn’t be separated from his soul.

[tetsumie]

heyy when you have the time to do so, can i request college!suna x reader angst to fluff where reader tries to spend time with suna but they get into an argument where he decides to spend time with his athlete friend group but then feels guilty and make up with reader through heart to heart conversation? 🫶🏻sorry if this is so long i have no idea how to make the prompt shorter but honestly i love all the fics you post so idc if you change it up a bit just thought i’d give an idea

𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

pairing: suna rintaro x gen!neutral reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: you confront him about the growing distance in your relationship, something he's been dismissing for a while, until he finally grasps the seriousness of the situation

cw: suna is a bit harsh; arguments but they make up <3

a/n: hihi anon! ty for requesting and i hope it's to your liking :D i'm still accepting requests for my 1k event so feel free to send more into my inbox!

"it's like i never see you anymore!"

suna and you have been in this back and forth argument for what felt like an eternity and it's draining the life out of you.

suna has been preoccupied with the upcoming inter-collegiate volleyball tournament. as a starter on the prestigious division 1 ejp raijin volleyball team, the arduous practices and pressure have been taking a heavier toll than expected on him.

as a result of this, suna has been incredibly distant in your relationship. he was always gone before you woke up in the morning and didn't return until after you fell asleep. every time you tried to plan a date or suggest something to do together, he somehow always cancels. it's always, "sorry i have to run some extra drills. maybe another day?"

it's exhausting putting this much effort into your relationship when it all seems in vain.

you've tried bringing this up to suna before, mentioning how you would like to spend more time together. but suna, being suna, always brushed it off. but there's only so much dismissal you can take.

you really miss your boyfriend.

but you're not sure he misses you the way you miss him.

"y/n you can't expect me to drop everything for you! like fuck, i have a life outside of you," he exclaims, snapping you back to the current argument at hand.

"i didn't say that, rin."

"that's what you're trying to say," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you shake you head, lowering your voice. "i know volleyball always has and always will be a top priority for you but i just wish... well, it would be nice if you could put a bit of effort into our relationship."

"what if i don't even want to anymore..." he mumbles under his breath as he walks to the closet, grabbing a coat.

the rage in your heart and mind now simmer down to a feeling of dread and heartbreak. what?

as he turns around, he sends an icy glare at you. you've never seen this side of him and you refuse to let him see you crumble apart in front of him. you refuse to break down right now.

"you don't want to what, suna?" you look at him, tone icy cold. "go on. tell me."

the heated environment is making his mind all cloudy and he wants to end this conversation now.

"you know what i mean, y/n. i'm going out. don't call me."

the door opens and slams shut.

the moment the door closes, you're completely still. you're running on autopilot. you find yourself making a cup of tea and sitting at the dining table, looking at the empty, lifeless apartment sprawled in front of you.

subconsciously, the tears started to roll. i guess that's it then. i think i better start packing my things. i should be gone by the time he comes back home.

meanwhile, suna makes his way downtown to the bar where some of his volleyball friends had invited him out for a couple drinks. he opens the door to the bar and he can hear the familiar rowdiness of his friends.

"well, well, well, if it ain't the infamous sunarin from ejp," a familiar blonde comes running to him. "been too long since i've seen ya stupid ass."

"yeah yeah whatever asshole," suna slaps the back of atsumu and nods over at osamu who's sitting on the table. "it's good to see you both."

as suna and atsumu head to the table in the back with the rest of his friends, his mind can't help but linger back to the argument that he had with you. but he decides to shake his mind off it.

he's here to have fun with his friends right now. not be worried about you.

"you didn't bring y/n tonight?" komori, suna's teammate, asks. "i haven't seen them in a hot minute. what've they been up to?"

what have you been up to? he doesn’t know. when was the last time we both had an actual conversation? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t even know what's been going on in your life lately. fuck this is what y/n meant.

he forces a smile, masking the bitter thoughts playing in his mind. "they're good. just doing their classes and stuff."

"ah right, well bring them by sometime! it's been too long since i've seen them. they never fail to light up the room with their presence."

"yeah you're right."

he nods, taking small sips from the beer in front of him.

as the conversation and chaos ensue among his friends, his mind keeps drifting back to the memories of the argument he walked out on. his mind has cooled off and a sense of guilt starts to take over his body.

here he is having fun with his friends while you're at home all alone, waiting for him. you just wanted to spend time with him and here he was, finding comfort in other people other than you.

he tries to remember the last time you both had gone out together but he's drawing a complete blank. he can't even remember the last time he's kissed you or held you in his hands.

no wonder you've been feeling so lonely.

and in response, he just kept brushing you off until you blew up today. and to make matters worse, he walked out of the argument giving you no sense of reassurance or closure on the matter.

at the realization, suna shoots up out of his seat with flushed cheeks. the group turns to him.

"i gotta head out for the night. i gotta see my baby."

"get a fuckin' room sunarin," osamu shouts. the rest of the groups howls in agreement. "see ya."

he waves goodbye and starts trudging his way back to the shared apartment. he expects to find you asleep so he can crawl into bed with you and cuddle, never intending on letting you go.

so you can imagine the surprise when he opens the door and sees the bedroom light on and hears rustling noises. "baby?" he calls out. "y/n?"

he takes off his shoes and coat and walks to the bedroom. he starts to internally panic at the sight in front of him.

you have a couple of suitcases out filled with your clothes and belongings. at a glance, he can see that your side of the closet is almost empty. you've even taken down a couple of the decor pieces in the room that you bought but he was never particularly interested in. with your headphones in, you’re focused on packing, but what breaks him the most is seeing you wipe your eyes as you do so. why are you even packing? where are you going?

and then it hits him.

not only did he make it seem like he didn’t want to make this relationship work, but his actions have been driving you away. fuck, this was bad. he didn't mean any of it. he has to fix it or he's gonna lose the best thing in his life for good.

he goes over to you and taps your shorted and you yelp, startled by the 6'2" man, hovering above you.

"what the hell are you doing?" suna asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

you wipe your eyes. "i'm leaving."

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs.

"ridiculous?" you laugh at the absurdity of his comment. "what's ridiculous is how you walk out of an argument not even wanting to work things out. what's ridiculous is how you just continue to put me aside like i’m some side piece."

he knows you’re hurting. and it’s all his fault.

he doesn’t know how to properly express everything he needs to say to you.

so in the heat of it all, he does what he thinks is the next best thing and kisses you.

you'd forgotten this feeling. his soft lips on yours and how they fit together just right. it's the softest kiss he's ever given to you and your heart swells at the gesture.

you pull away and you plop yourself on the floor to process what just happened.

right there and then, he looks at you. he really looks at you. he notices the way you have some baby hairs popping out and your cheeks feel warm from all that crying. he notices the way your eyes look slightly puffed out and the remnants of tears on your cheeks.

i'm the cause of this. this is all my fault.

"i’m sorry," he begins.

you sigh and look away mumbling to yourself. "you’ve said that before. it doesn’t change anything."

"and you’re right."

you look up at him, surprised by his admission. "w-what?"

"you’re absolutely right, y/n."

he crouches down to your level, resting his hand on your knee so he can look you in the eye.

"i shouldn't have made it seem i wasn't willing to put in the effort into making us work," he says, gesturing between you and him. "my actions and what i said to you a couple hours ago obviously made it seem that way and i'm an absolute dumbass for not picking up on it."

you’re silent. he searches your face, looking for any speck of emotion, but he still can’t read you. in the amount of time he's known you, you’ve always been the exception.

"i've been swamped with so much work lately and i know i need to do better. i spread myself so thin that i forgot to prioritize the things and the people that matter the most to me."

you're silent, unsure of what to say to him.

"i thought i was doing the best i could do until i realized i could be doing so much more for us and for you. i'm so sorry for not being here."

"i know rin," you whisper. finally, for the first time you look up from your lap to look at him. "it just felt like you didn't care about us anymore. you're the hardest worker i know but i just wish you were here sometimes."

"and i wouldn't be able to be that hard worker without your love and support, you know," his hand cups your cheek as he runs his thumb across the tear streaks on your face.

"i realize how absent i’ve been in our relationship lately and i can’t imagine how lonely you’ve been feeling. i want to make this relationship work with you. i know i suck at being sappy and shit but you really are my other half. no matter what it takes, i’ll make us work. i’ll fight for this relationship. i'll fight for us."

"oh, rin," you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in close for a hug. the tears begin to flow from your eyes.

he feels his eyes glaze over. he breathes in your familiar scent and feels a warmth he’s missed.

even after everything, you still love him.

he starts with a gentle kiss on your cheek, then starts peppering your face with soft kisses.

you let out a watery chuckle, making his heart skip a beat. he hasn't heard your laugh in forever and he swears to himself to never be the reason for your tears again.

"let's go to bed now baby. i've gotta cuddle away all the pain i've caused you."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part six of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it.

↬ nsfw; mdni; wc: 6.1k (oh god what did i do); tags: oral fem receiving, soft dom! theo, p in v, unprotected sex, theo is a munch, praise, slight virginity/innocence kink

( masterlist )

You sat cross-legged on the king sized bed in the room of requirement, fingers picking at the threads of the soft duvet beneath you. Anticipation curled in your insides as you fixed your eyes on the door. The room had answered your subconscious wish and provided a clock, an old grandfather clock, that ticked softly. Apart from your breathing, it was the only sound breaking the silence. Until the door handle clicked.

The door creaked open, and you looked up sharply, your breath catching as Theo slipped inside. His hair was damp from the rain still falling outside, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, his sharp features softening as his eyes landed on you. He hesitated for a moment, as if gauging the mood, before closing the door behind him with a quiet thud. There was a sort of tension in the room, or maybe you were imagining it because your nerves ran high. When Theo crooked his head, you realized what he was waiting for.

“Oh, Harry apologized,” you reassured him and Theo nodded, approaching the bed slowly. On his way, he shed his cloak and bag and sat down on the bed, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt. “How did your friends take it?” you asked and scooted back to make space for him. Theo's eyes followed your retreating figure and he raised his brows, moving after you. “Are you running from me, tesoro?”

“Are you avoiding my question, Theo?” you countered and scooted back even more to tease him. Theo chuckled darkly and surged forward, trapping you beneath him by seizing your wrists and pushing them gently into the cushion. You couldn't help the high-pitched gasp that left your throat. One of Theo's large hands was enough to bind both your wrists, leaving you utterly helpless under his hungry eyes. The other drew a teasing line down your side.

“Wouldn't dream of it.” Theo dipped down to peck your nose, your cheeks, down to your chin. However, his kisses didn't stay that innocent. When a little sigh left your lips, you felt a sudden, sharp sensation at your neck and gasped. Theo chuckled and caressed the spot he had bitten down on with his lips, worshipping it. The hand that had been running up and down your side planted itself firmly on your hip as his hips moved almost instinctively and you felt something stiff rubbing against your core.

You stiffened, and Theo noticed in an instance. His lips and hands retreated immediately and he pushed himself up to bring some space between the two of you. With furrowed brows, he looked down on your panting figure. “Are you alright? Did I-”

“No!” you said quickly and scrambled to sit like him. “I'm fine, I’m- I was just surprised.” When you noticed the worried look in his cerulean eyes, you tried to explain. “You haven't- It’s just- I’m just-” But the words wouldn't make it past your lips. Instead, Theo got a hold of your gesticulating hands and brought them to his lips. “There is nothing to explain, cara mia,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I went too far.”

“You didn't, I-” you blushed furiously and averted your face, but you couldn't miss his raised eyebrow. “I liked it,” you whispered, staring stubbornly at the blankets of the four poster. Even out of your peripheral vision, you could see the change in his demeanor at your words. His frame visibly relaxed, but at the same time, his fingers locked with yours that had subconsciously been picking on the blanket. When you looked up at him, his gaze was steady but not intimidating. The soft, teasing grin he’d worn earlier had given way to something quieter- more patient.

It was strange. Minutes before, you had been flush against his body and been devoured by his lips, and yet this felt almost more intimate. You were hyper-aware of how close he was, the way his fingertips traced aimless patterns along the back of your hand. It was gentle, intimate, yet every nerve in your body was alive with tension. Your teeth nibbled on your bottom lip as you looked for the fitting words. Theo seemed to sense that you were holding something back, because he waited patiently. “You should know something,” you said.

“I-” you began, only to falter. The words caught in your throat, leaving a lump of unease behind. Theo's brows furrowed slightly, not in annoyance but intrigue. He didn't press, he just waited. In the silence, you could make out the steady rhythm of his breathing and it grounded you somewhat. You weren't about to confess a crime. Though, and you couldn't deny it, you were worried that Theo would be disappointed. You glanced down on your lap, where your hands lay intertwined. Finally, you forced yourself to meet his eyes, heart pounding so hard it almost drowned out your voice. “I've never… I’ve never done anything like this before.” You swallowed and avoided his piercing gaze. “I'm, like, a virgin.”

Theo's eyes widened as he suddenly understood what all your blushing and nervousness around the topic of intimacy meant. Though he had assumed you were less experienced than he was, for one because you didn't have that kind of reputation and secondly because he had to admit that you’d have to work pretty hard to beat him, he didn't think you would be a virgin. That someone as gorgeous and smart as you had never gotten busy with anyone.

You seemed pretty embarrassed, either of the topic or the confession, and your fingers seemed to tighten around his subconsciously. When you sent him a nervous glance, he got his features back under control.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, dolcezza,” Theo said softly but your shame skyrocketed at once and you bundled up, hiding your burning face in your hands and letting out a long groan. You heard him chuckle and then felt his soft touch pry at your wrist. “Would you look at me, amore mio dolce?” Cheeks a bright pink, hair a mess and lips kiss-bitten, Theo couldn't think of a more endearing sight than when you let him remove your hands from your face and looked up at him. “We don't have to do anything, let's just cuddle some more and-”

“No!” you interrupted him fervently. “I mean… I do want to.” You seemed to grapple with something, and finally, you looked back up at him, your doe eyes glistening in the light of the many fires. “Is it bad?” Bad? Shamefully, Theo had to admit it only made his problem down there worse. At the same time, he started to question himself, and his lack of an immediate answer had you bite your lip nervously.

“It's not … bad,” he said in a great effort to keep his voice steady and composed. But he couldn't help his fingers twitch, burning to hold you, grab you, push you into the covers and make you his. Merlin he needed therapy.

“Then why are you acting so weird?” you said, noting his strained voice, averted eyes and twitching fingers, as ditched wanted to escape from yours. “Why does it make a difference wether I'm a virgin or not?”

That was a really good question, actually. Theo had deflowered plenty of girls in his lifetime and it had never made a difference to him how experienced they were. But when it was you, it did something to him. A dark, greedy part of him stirred at the thought of being you first, ruining you for all other men, teaching you, guiding you, making you his.

Theo groaned in frustration and let his head slump into the crook of your neck, throwing all pretense into the wind. Merlin, how it turned him on that- “You would give your virginity to me?” he asked into your neck and you nodded rapidly. “Yes!” “Are you sure?” You were taken aback by the graveness and severity in his tone, but it couldn't deter you. “Yes, Theo. I trust you.”

“Dio, dannazione,” Theo hissed and lifted his face from your neck to look at you with an intensity that knocked the air right out of your lungs. His fingers slipped out of yours and located themselves on your hip instead, in a tight grip, an attempt to ground himself and drown the monster in him out. “Cazzo, tesoro, it's not bad, quite the contrary, actually.” A humorless chuckle left his lips and you frowned up at him with innocent confusion. “What do you mean?”

When he leaned in, you found yourself pulled to him as if by magnetic force. His cerulean eyes were so dark, like black holes that held an overpowering pull on everything around them. And right now, it was you who was pulled into the abysmal depths. Your breath hitched when your lips were mere inches apart and Theo's voice sounded oh so softly, like a melody whispered into your ears. “I think … I think it's so hot that you want to give your first time to me.” You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank Merlin, I thought you were going to run away or something.”

“You're ridiculous,” Theo mused but you shrugged, awaiting the touch of his lips readily. “You're the one with the virginity kink.” Biting your lip, you looked up at him with a daring smile and brought your voice to a sensual whisper that seemed completely laughable to you. “Theo, I’d let you take me any time you aske-”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips clashed with yours in an uncontrolled fervor you had never seen from Theo. Theo’s kisses were slow and sensual, controlled and determined, and though they could also be passionate, he had never kissed you like this. Wild, senseless, barely more than a clash of teeth as he slipped his tongue into your mouth and straight up moaned. It was a kiss that set your whole body alight, electrified it, so that the simplest touch of his hands left you whimpering into his mouth.

Theo swallowed up all sounds as his tongue roamed around your mouth, as if he wanted to explore every inch of you, claim you whole. His usually so careful touches turned into barely restrained grips as his hands cupped your face. You didn't even realize you had given into his relentless push until your back met the mattress and he pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.

A storm was brewing in his eyes when Theo looked down on you in the sheets, but after a few deep breaths, he seemed to get himself back under control. “I don't have an innocence kink,” he insisted and you giggled, but he only smiled and played with a strand of your hair. “I don't. It's just… you. The thought of being your first.” And your last, if he had his way. But he didn't want to overwhelm you. With another long exhale, he kissed your temple softly. “You’re a fucking angel, you know that? I want to do this the right way, make it perfect…”

His lips found yours once more, but it was in a gentle caress. A kiss that felt like an answer to an unspoken question. His nose nuzzled against yours as his large hands glided down your body, mapping and lingering at your waist before one got a hold of your thigh. As his thumb brushed over the skin under your uniform skirt, he parted your legs gingerly and his hips slotted perfectly into the open space.

You felt so impossibly close to him he might just have consumed you whole. It was impossible not to feel safe in his capable hands that seemed to expertly draw all the right reactions out of you. Your bodies melded together as he let his hips rock experimentally and you mewled. Theo’s lips curled into a smirk you could feel against your own as he reveled in the effect he had on you. Smug bastard. In retaliation, you moved your hips against his and his breath hitched. “Cazzo, bella, mi farai dimenticare me stesso.”

His hands travelled further down to lock your hips in place. But instead of continuing to rub his hardened, clothed dick against your crotch, Theo departed from your mouth to trail kisses down your neck. With a swift motion, he moved you further back on the mattress, his hands held your thighs as he was on eye-level with your clothed core. Realizing his intentions, you propped yourself up on your ellbows to look at him. The way he looked at you through his dark lashes had the heat explode in your chest- and your cheeks. When you spoke, your voice came out in a broken stammer. “Y- you don't have to do that.”

“Sorry?” Theo said courteously as he trailed kisses down your thigh. You had to suppress a whimper and attempted to close your thighs out of instinct, but Theo kept them parted with ease. “No need to be embarrassed,” he smiled and you felt like the amount of fireplaces had just doubled.

“I-” you said tentatively as he was still worshiping your thigh, “I've heard many boys see it as a chore.” What you hadn't expected was for Theo to roll his eyes. “Then many boys are sciocchi,” he said as his fingers latched onto your skirt, gently prying at it. “But-” “I want to, cazzo, I want to. Do you know how long I've been yearning to taste your cute little cunt?” Theo interrupted you and brought a hand to your chin to make you unable to avert your hazy gaze. “So fucking long. Please, let me have a taste of you, Tesoro.”

It was almost impossible to meet his fiery gaze, but once you did, you found yourself nodding helplessly. “Good girl,” Theo praised and peeled down your skirt, placing it orderly on the nightstand. His calm manner made you feel as if he was teasing you, and you were about to scold him when you felt his index finger hook around your panties as he placed the softest of kisses on your pubic bone.

For some reason, this was what made your breath hitch and he hummed amusedly against your skin. One of his fingers came down to draw the lightest of circles on your clothed cunt and you squirmed uncontrollably under him. Theo's eyes glinted with amusement as he tutted. “So responsive…”

“S- stop teasing,” you stuttered and felt him shift between your legs. “Your wish is my command,” Theo murmured against your skin and, in one fluid motion, he had rid you of your panties. They joined your skirt as Theo dove down and you chocked on your own spit.

Expertly, Theo's lips closed around your clit and you stifled a sudden moan by slapping your hand over your mouth. You were startled when Theo's hand released your thigh and got a hold of your wrist. His eyes glinted dangerously up at you. “None of that, principessa. I want to hear you.” His index finger flicked against your clit and you mewled. Theo growled against your cunt as he dipped out his tongue into your wetness and started devouring you like his last meal.

You had never felt anything like this. Theo's mouth on your cunt felt so wild and uncontrolled, yet his lips or mouth nudged against your clit in constant, overwhelming stimulation. Your attempts to control your noises were rendered in vain as Theo touched you in all the right places and a loud, high-pitched moan of his name escaped your throat. His ministrations on your pussy came to a sudden halt as Theo stared up at you with an expression that had your insides squeeze in actual fear. “Do that again.”

As he returned to your cunt, you threw your head back into the covers. His tongue dipped into your warmth, messily making out with your pussy and practically worshipping your clit. Your thighs trembled, just as your voice when you let out another pathetic mewl of his name and you felt Theo moan into your cunt, the vibrations having you writhing and squirming.

With a loud groan, one of Theo’s arms shot up to hold down your waist to allow himself the perfect angle to devour you. Your juices covered the better half of his face but Theo couldn't bring himself to care. When he felt his hips rut against the mattress subconsciously, he forced himself to stop. This was about you, this would be all about you, his pleasure would come second to yours. But your cute little moans went straight to his clock as he reveled in the taste of you.

You were like ambrosia, Theo was convinced to be in heaven, and when you buried your trembling fingers in his locks in an adorable attempt to take control, he could not hold back the shudder that rippled through his body.

Theo found his iron discipline wavering when your back arched off the mattress and your desperate whimpers filled his ears. Merlin, you were heavenly, as you began to tremble and squirm in his tight hold. “Theo, I- I’m-” He knew what lay on your tongue and he knew you were too embarrassed to say it out loud, but he wanted to hear you say it so bad. “You’re what?” he murmured teasingly and you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “I’m close, oh god, I'm close!”

You found yourself squealing when you felt one of Theo’s fingers that had been rubbing circles on your clit travel down and prod at your entrance. A gasp left your lips when he slipped it inside, lubricated by your juices, and curled it upward. Your grip on his locks tightened, whether to stop him or spur him on, you did not know, and he chuckled against your warmth. “Be gentle with me, cara mia.” God, the way he spoke Italian into your cunt had you wetter than you would like to admit. But of course, he noticed, and you knew from the slight smirk he gave you that he had made a mental note.

Theo added another finger and you felt your high approaching with accelerating speed, and somehow, the pleasure got even more intense. You had touched yourself before, but the weak orgasms you could draw out here and there were in no comparison to anything you felt right now. You knew Theo was watching you closely, you could feel his heavy gaze on you, but you couldn't stop your pathetic little “ah”s of pleasure. And when he curled up his fingers to meet a spot you didn't even know you had and his lips closed around your clit once more, you broke.

Releasing a strangled moan, your body spasmed as you were hit by the strongest orgasm you had ever felt, bucking off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut and fell apart on his tongue. For a moment, you thought you could see the pearly gates of heaven as you grew impossibly light-headed. Wave and wave of pleasure washed over you, with the only thing grounding you being Theo. His mouth and fingers worked you through your high as you slowly returned to him.

Watching your heaving chest and teary eyes, Theo felt tempted to work you into overstimulation, giving in to the mean temptation to have you crying and and trashing in his arms, but he resisted the urge. Today was exclusively about your pleasure. Instead, he released your thighs and departed from your pussy with a last peck to your clit that had you jolt in his hold. Then, he returned to hover over you and revel in your fucked-out expression.

Theo dipped his head down to kiss you and you shuddered, tasting yourself on his lips. In fact, half his face was covered in your juices, and when he pulled away from the short but sweet kiss, you attempted to wipe some of it away with an apologetic expression. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly, feeling hesitant to meet his intense gaze. “I made a bit of a mess, didn't I?”

But one of Theo’s hands came up to seize your wrist and stop your feeble attempts. “Tesoro, why would you deny me my dessert?”

“D- dessert?” you stuttered, blushing furiously, and he laughed. Your weak slap against his abdomen seemed to go unnoticed, but your blushing did not. “cosi carina,” Theo murmured as he pecked both your burning cheeks. His eyes met yours and you shivered at the unmasked adoration in them. “How do you feel? Do you want to continue? We don't have to,” he assured you, but you shook your head with a little more fervor as necessary.

“I want to continue, that was … wow. It never…,” you avoided his eyes but he lifted your chin to make you look at him. “It never what?” “... never felt that good when I… you know…” Your embarrassment, even when he was literally covered in your juices, was so cute that Theo couldn't help the grin growing on his face. “Go on.” With a frustrated groan, you punched his chest. “When I … you know… touched myself,” you forced past your lips and he cooed at your shyness.

His head nestled into the crook of your neck and you heard him mutter close to your ear: “What did you think about when you touched yourself, tesoro?” Your heart pounded so hard in your chest you could barely get your words past it. “You. And me. A- and-” your voice broke off and faded into a soft mewl when you felt his fingers at your entrance once more, drawing tantalizing patterns around your clit.

“Go on,” he murmured again and your breath hitched. “Go on or I'll stop,” Theo threatened and you scrambled to keep talking. “Your hands, ah! I thought about your hands.” His dark chuckle made you shiver and he cooed. “You thought about my hands?” You nodded in shame, fisting his shirt and pulling him closer. “What else?”

You realized he was looking for a specific answer that you were very reluctant to give. The effect he had on you when he spoke in his mother tongue. But you just couldn't say it, so you copped out with “your voice.”

There was a mean flick against your clit and you gasped as Theo growled against your ear. Two of his fingers entered your cunt and stretched it out so deliciously you could feel it in your dry throat. “What else?” Stubbornly, you shook your head and he tutted. “Cos'altro c'è?”

“You’re mean,” you complained, but you could practically feel yourself growing wetter- and he could, too. “Dillo e basta,” he purred against the shell of your ear as his fingers curled and expertly hit the spot that had you seeing stars. “Just say it, tesoro.”

It was too much: his Italian, his fingers, the burning in your cheeks. The confession broke out of you. “It's hot when you speak Italian, okay?” you whined defiantly and Theo rewarded you with another curl upwards that had you shudder in his arms. “Good girl, I knew you could do it.” You didn't know what you hated more: how smug his voice was or how it had you dripping into the sheets. In an attempt to regain your dignity, you mustered all your strength and locked your thighs around his waist, flipping the two of you around.

With a raised brow, Theo watched your panting figure ontop of him. You straddled his waist and, in an attempt to take back some level of control, experimentally rocked your hips over his clothes erection. Theo’s breath hitched slightly and you gave him a triumphant grin, rolling your hips once again, and again, holding back moans. You gasped when he shifted under you and sat up, his hands latching onto your waist. Now it was him who rocked you back and forth on his lap, and you who buried your hands in his shirt and mewled at the pleasure.

“Nice try,” he chuckled into your ear. The satisfaction in his tone brought out your last remnants of defiance as you bit down on his neck so hard it made him hiss. “Cazzo, bella!” While he was distracted, your hand travelled down and you found the outline of his cock through his trousers. When your fingers closed around it, eliciting a deep grunt from Theo, you gasped. Though you had never seen another man in comparison, you were pretty sure Theo was massive, and you began to doubt wether he could even fit.

But before you could do anything else, Theo’s lips clashed onto yours and you were momentarily distracted by the mind-shattering kiss he gave you. His tongue slipped into your mouth easily as if he wanted to devour you whole, body and soul, and you were beginning to think he already had. Between kisses, he whispered unknown phrases in Italian. His lips in combination with his words made you increasingly desperate.

When he pulled away and you gasped for air, Theo gently removed your hands from his clothed erection and placed pecks on your frowning eyebrows. “Not tonight, cara mia, this is about you, and you only.”

“But-,” you protested weakly as he brought your hands to his neck and looped them around it. “I wanted to make you feel good, too.”

“Well, aren't you an angel,” he chuckled softly and kissed the corner of your lips. “The best way to make me feel good right now, tesoro, is to take off that blouse of yours.”

You scrambled to unbutton your school shirt, but it was a bit of a challenge with how hard your hands were trembling. All the while, Theo leaned back against the headboard and watched your attempts with the slightest hint of smugness shimmering within those cerulean eyes. He might as well have lit a cigarette, with how utterly appeased he appeared. A smug smile tugged at his lips as he watched your confused attempts to open your blouse. His nonchalance was maddeningly magnetic, with the casual grace of someone who held all the cards.

When you had finally managed to open your blouse, you were suddenly hit with a new wave of shyness. Your hands trembled slightly when you pried it open and discarded it onto the floor, watching Theo’s reaction closely. His eyes widened slightly and the smile fell from his lips. It was replaced by slightly parted lips that he wet with his tongue as his eyes took you in fully, traveling over your collarbone, clothed breasts and down to your soft belly.

Feeling self-conscious, you crossed your arms over your chest, but Theo sat up in one swift motion and pried them off, eyes locked to your lace bra. “No, no, no, niente di tutto questo,” he told you and you wondered whether he was even aware you had no idea what he had said. Oh, well, you’d gotten the general gist.

When Theo managed to lift his gaze from your boobs,they met yours with a softness you hadn't expected. “You’re so beautiful, Merlin, let me die to this sight.”

“You-,” you whispered, as if you were telling him a secret, “you’re not lying?” God, that lifted eyebrow, those damn eyes. His index finger brushed over your lip gently and you found yourself shuddering at the simple touch. Leaning closer, your cunt brushed over his thigh and you gasped. With a light smirk on his lips, Theo bucked it upwards and watched you suppress a moan and bury your hands in his shirt to stabilize yourself. Your vicinity enabled him to reach around your waist and flip the two around in one fluid motion.

“I'm not,” he said softly, looking down on your bare body splayed out for him in the sheets. Your pretty glistening eyes looking up at him so sweetly, he found himself enraptured by merely looking at you.

A pout tugged at your kiss-bitten lips. “How come I'm naked and you’re not?”

He smiled. “Fair enough.” With one hand, he tugged his shirt over his head, the other loosened his belt. With a shudder, he got lost in the feeling of your soft hands traveling up his torso and locking around his neck to pull him into a kiss. He gave in to your pull and dove down, shedding his trousers and slotting his hips between your soft thighs.

You almost forgot how to breathe in between kisses. Everything was so warm. His hands on your body, your skin against the fire from outside and within. His mouth, caressing yours. One of his hands travelled down your tummy and over the curve of your bare ass, grabbing a hand full of your thigh and lifting it to rock his clothed erection against your bare warmth. A strangled moan left your lips as you threw your head back and his lips latched onto your neck.

Your bodies rocked against and with each other, synchronizing into one fluid motion. Theo's somewhat strained baritone whispered sweet nothings in Italian into your ear. But it wasn't enough. Your hand ran down his back until it reached his boxers and you tugged at their hem, making Theo pant into your mouth. Spurred on by his reaction, you slipped your hand inside them and closed around his cock. For some reason, you shuddered against him and when he moaned against your skin, you took it as a sign to move your hand.

As if on instinct, his hips rocked into your hand and he groaned into your neck. “ragazza sfacciata. Little minx.” But before you could revel in having the upper hand for at least a short while, a much bigger hand closed around both your wrists and pressed them into the mattress over your hand. With a cheeky smile, Theo tutted at you. “Quite eager, aren't we?”

“Well, if you take so damn long,” you retorted and his eyes glinted dangerously before they softened once more. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked seriously, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty.

You nodded. “Positi-” You were cut off by a squeak when Theo discarded his boxers and rutted his cock against your folds. He was massive, and excitement, as well as anxiety curled in your stomach. “Still sure?” he asked cockily and you nodded. Even though you knew it wasn't a smart move, you gave him challenging look. “What, are you scared to f-” Three fingers plunged into your wet cunt and you gasped at the new stretch, eyes burning. “That's what you got to look forward to,” Theo murmured hotly against your neck. “That and more.”

Even though nervousness bloomed in your stomach, you managed to catch his eye and give him a nod of reassurance. “Please, Theo, please, I want it, I-” “Merlin, you’re tempting,” Theo gritted out and gave your cunt a gentle slap that squelched embarrassingly loud. “Bene, spread your legs for me, principessa.”

You did and felt a blush bloom on your cheeks when the tip of his cock kissed your sensitive clit. Theo's hands drew reassuring circles on your belly as he hoisted himself up and pressed his tip into your entrance. He was big, and seemed even bigger now that he was actually in you. The stretch was so unlike his fingers that you forgot to breathe for a second. You felt Theo's worried eyes on you and smiled at him through the sting you felt. “Tell me if anything hurts,” he muttered before he moved in the next inch.

Theo could barely hold himself together as his tip slipped further into your tight warmth. Biting down hard on his lip, so hard he might have actually started bleeding, he summoned all his restraint. The urge to plunge into you and split you open was strong, but even stronger was his concern for you as he saw you well up and breathe steadily through your mouth. “Tesoro?” You nodded at him to keep going and squeezed your eyes shut as he sank in another inch. Theo couldn't hold back the moan that left his throat and your whimpers didn't make the situation any better.

“Are you all the way in yet?” you asked, unable to imagine that you could take much more, but Theo shook his head. “That's just half of it, Bella. Want me to stop?” You shook your head vigorously. “No, keep going.”

Finally, with a lot of patience and self restraint, Theo managed to sink into your tight cunt all the way. With a pant, he sank down onto his free elbow, hovering inches above you. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but you breathed steadily and let out the occasional whimper.

“Are you okay?” you heard Theo mutter and you opened your eyes to see cerulean blue. You took a deep breath and nodded. “‘M fine. Just-” you squirmed and Theo gasped, holding your hips down. “So full…”

Theo chuckled at your ramblings and pulled out before slowly moving back in. His steady movements slowly turned from stinging to pleasurable and small “ah”s escaped you as he established a steady rhythm. His breath was hot against your ear. “Fucking hell, bella.”

An embarrassingly loud moan escaped you when Theo hit that spot and you squirmed against his hand that still held your wrists in place. “T-theo!” Suddenly, you felt his hand slip under your back and unhook your bra, discarding it to somewhere unseen. His lips came down to wrap around your nipple and you arched your back off the mattress as his teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin, travelling up your tit before biting down gently and sucking, surely forming a bruise. Meanwhile, his cock still hit the spot that had you falling apart, chanting his name breathlessly.

The sensations were so overwhelming that tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes. You hiccuped, and Theo chuckled against the tender skin of your boobs. A coil tightened in your lower belly, if possible even more intense than the previous ones, and you squirmed pathetically against Theo’s hold. Finally, he released your wrists and they flew to his hair to bury themselves in it. As you felt your climax approaching, you whimpered something incoherent, but he understood.

His now free hand dove down to draw hurried circles around your clit and you jolted as the added pleasure brought you to the edges of consciousness. A scream of his name left your throat as you crashed into your high with full force, your back arched off the bed. His skillful fingers and gentle rhythm worked you through your high when his movements suddenly stuttered and the rhythm grew uneven. As you came down from your high, Theo rutted his cock into you heavily, three times before he pulled out and came onto the sheets.

Panting hard, Theo collapsed on the bed next to you and pulled your trembling figure into his arms. You buried your face in his chest as he caressed your body with soft touches, drawing patterns on the small of your back. When you looked up from his chest, your eyes met his and in your shared look, you tried to convey all your love, all your adoration and affection. You reached for his hand and locked his fingers, and Theo pressed a gentle kiss onto your temple.

"My friends were surprisingly supportive," Theo spoke into the silence and your eyes widened. Foreseeing your skepticism, Theo chuckled. "It might have been because I told them with a drawn wand. But I think Enzo's got a crush on you."

"You're crazy," you said, rolling your eyes. "I can't have two gorgeous men liking me." Even though you couldn't see it, you heard the frown in his voice. "You think Enzo is gorgeous?" You snorted. "I mean... objectively? But don't worry. I like them broody and Italian and stinking of cigarettes." A satisfied hum left Theo's lips as he pecked your temple.

“Ti amo, tesoro,” he whispered softly as he returned your smile. You leaned your head against his bicep and drowned in his cerulean eyes. “Anch'io ti amo, Theo.”

a/n: thank you so much for 300 followers and have a happy new year's eve! see you all in 2025!

[aemrsy]

𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐚

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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 (𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑𝟎) 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞.

𝐓𝐖: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

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You don't think you've ever been in a room this quiet before. It almost felt like the silence that would surround you underwater, no it was worse, quieter. You looked down at the white shoes they'd put you in. They definitely weren't white anymore. Did they do that on purpose? To torment you? As if the smell of it constantly wasn't enough, now it was on your shoes and clothes.

You desperately tried to wipe yourself clean of the red stains, "please, please." the words repeated over and over again like a mantra in your brain. Your eyes burned and your vision blurred up with tears. This was it, you could feel a sob bubbling up in your chest. You needed to get out.

Your bottom lip quivered making a slight opening enough for your sob to escape through and break the silence, but before that could happen you heard a loud alarm it made your ears ring it was almost painful. You jumped, not having heard anything since the last game.. god could you even call it that?.. This was horrible.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder, since the first game your body had been on high alert so naturally your head snapped up your body pulling itself back a little in defense.

Your body relaxed a little once you saw him, Choi su-bong. He was the center of your world when you two were younger there wasn't a day that went by without him, he was practically family. His parents weren't always the best so you could recall times when he would spend months at your place your parents would've done anything to protect him,

but like every childhood friendship you two fell out. it's hard to say when but you two hadn't talked since the early years of middle school.

Seeing him here was a shock, you couldn't muster up the courage to talk to him at all yet. There was nothing to say. Not in your current situation.

"You need to eat.." He said softly, looking at you as if you'd break if his gaze was any less gentler. He sat down next to you keeping a small distance between the two of you.

You almost scoffed at that. "Eat?.. You can't be serious su-bong." Needless to say you didn't have an appetite. You looked over at the line forming infront of the guards that were handing out trays of food.

He smiled looking down and then back up at you "Come on.. you need to keep your strength up for the next game." He reached over, moving slowly and tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear, a habit he'd picked up from when you were kids. You didn't like your hair getting in your face at all, he knew that.

Subconsciously you moved a little closer to him. There was so much that you wanted to say to him so when you started opening your mouth you weren't really sure what was about to come out.

"I miss you" of course.. you're quite literally in a life and death situation but that's the first thing your brain decided on.

he looked into your eyes and when you looked into his for a second you could see the younger version of him that you loved so deeply. A version of him without the purple hair and all the firey attitude. You saw him for who he was and you wished that everyone in here could see the same pure boy that you did.

You thought that maybe he saw something similar in your own eyes because he didn't say anything back instead he pulled you in and you found yourself pressed up against his chest.

You grabbed fistfuls of the back of his tracksuit jacket closing your eyes and as sick as it may sound you felt safe. In this god awful place you thought you'd never feel that way.

"What are you doing here?.." You said looking up at him with worried eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing.." He fired back. You didn't like his tone but you answered anyway.

"I'm not good at managing my money.. After i got fired from the only job that would hire me.. i couldn't find another one, and everything that i had saved.. Gone in a few weeks."

He nodded along as you spoke pursing his lips together.

"No but seriously, what are you doing here?.. from what i've seen, your life is going great.. 'Thanos'.."

He shook his head a bitter smile forming on his face.

"Fame doesn't always equal money.. i'm in debt."

The way he kept his answer so short made you wonder if there's more that he didn't want to tell you but you didn't push.

He looked down at your face gently rubbing your arm as he spoke.

"i miss you too.. alot, i'm sorry i didn't reach out.. i just didn't know what to say you know?.. i didn't know where to start.."

You nodded you knew that feeling all to well.

"I know.. i felt the same way."

He squeezed your arm a little. When he looked over at the line he'd realized it had gotten alot shorter so he excused himself before going over and grabbing his tray, he wasn't very hungry himself but he needed to get you to eat something.

He made his way back over and set the tray down infront of you.

"Come on.. just a couple bites."

With him around you felt a little more comfortable eating he was a great distraction from everything going on around you.

You ate in silence and he ate some too, he wanted to encourage you.

"So, should i start calling you thanos too?"

He furrowed his eyebrows chuckling but the look you gave him said it was a genuine question.

"No way, It sounds so weird coming from you.. you can stick to my real name.." He handed you the milk gesturing for you to drink up.

"Actually it's nice that you still call me by my real name.. you're different from them y'know?, the best parts of my childhood are tied to you.. i owe it all to you.. Seriously, you mean so much to me, i want you to know that okay?.. we'll stick together in here"

You nodded setting the milk down on the tray. You did think it was nice that you could call him something that seprated you from everone else.

The way he worded that last part though made you a little anxious, 'we'll stick together in here' What about when you're out of here?.. No, you couldn't lose him again.

"Hey, we're gonna be okay, we'll make it out, and as soon as we pay off our debts we'll go somewhere nice.. like we talked about when we were younger remember?.."

As kids you two had always dreamt about traveling, you'd watch the planes go by during recess and talk about where you think it's headed and where you'd want to go, back then everything seemed possible.

"i'm scared.." you whispered, he put his hand on your cheek. You had doubts that you'd even make it out of here to see if he'd stick to his word.

"I'm here.. we'll get through it together, you're safe with me.. you're safe."

his thumb stroked your cheek and you closed your eyes putting your hand on his and pressing it a little further into your cheek, craving the warmth of his palm on your skin.

"i love you.."

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"i love you too.. always."

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[leurdhavemerky]

Only in His Dreams (Part 1/2)

Viktor yearning for you harddd.

Contents: Academy/scientist gn!reader, you're starring in one of his dreams, suggestive

Word count: 400

Viktor's new hobby is admiring you from afar. He adoringly observes the details of your face while you work. His heartbeat quickens as you enchant him during conversation, even if you're speaking about ordinary lab procedures. Those rare interactions are magical.

He wishes he could summon the courage to initiate something. Anything. Making small talk, asking a question, or just greeting you by name- if you even knew his.

Viktor drifted to sleep one night, a marbled swirl of emotions painted on the canvas of his subconscious.

----

A light pink haze clouded his vision, and his face felt feverishly hot. Viktor was vulnerable, standing alone in the living room of someone else's home. He couldn't see straight. It was all a bit blurry- a watercolor piece. He tried to speak, yet it felt as if his vocal chords were coated in thick honey.

An unidentifiable humming began, faintly at first. The subtle tune eased his nerves, and he was sure that he was safe, even in this house of mystery.

Viktor finally lifted his cane and began to wander slowly, suspecting that the rose-scented trail of pink fog he followed had something to do with his weary state.

Warm light spilled out of a small crack between the sides of a door and it's frame. The trail ended here, where the soothing humming grew prominent.

Viktor's hands instinctively opened the door, before his mind registered the action. The hinges creaked quietly, revealing the singer.

It was you, just out of a hot shower, small drops of water still clinging to your skin.

Viktor swallowed and his pupils dilated, shocked by his unintended intrusion. Through the warm steam left over from your shower, you hadn't noticed him, and you continued your sweet song, wrapping your heavenly body in a thin towel.

Was he invisible to you? He turned to the slightly steamy mirror, but the reflection that belonged to him was missing. He glanced back at the angel before him. With a soft gaze, he admired you, and opened his mouth, but only a light, desperate breath would come out.

----

He stirred awake, whispering your name longingly. Each sound left his lips slowly, passion-filled. Viktor tensed his grip on his cold pillow, coming out of the romantic trance. He groaned, realizing that his hands weren't tracing your features.

Something. Anything.

Part 2 here

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. zayne is quite the early bird and loves to appreciate the sight of your sleeping self next to him. he might even tease you a bit.

wc. 1.2k

note. first love and deepspace fic, kinda nervous. lmk what you think of my characterisation of zayne.

tags. zayne x female reader. fluff. just zayne being a secret softie for you. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, dear / pretty, beautiful’.

it’s early. way too early for your body to properly function. the birds haven’t chirped yet and neither has the sun shown itself—it’s early, but zayne is up. he couldn’t fall back asleep once he had awoken and thus decided to stay up.

“hah, sleepyhead,” zayne comments through a deep sigh. he’s laying on his side, facing you. his eyes are completely focused on your appearance; from your messy bed hair to the drop of drool forming at the corner of your mouth. it’s all rather endearing.

your boyfriend reaches a scarred hand towards you, though is quick to retract it after some hesitation. he does not want to interrupt your slumber. you need your rest; especially after your hard shift as a hunter the day before.

and because you finally decided to follow his advice as your primary care physician. sleep is important for your health.

zayne’s protective instincts are begging him to embrace you—to protect you against the cold. you just look so vulnerable next to him.

though, his heart doesn’t agree. there are risks to such an action; you waking up this early and not getting your recommended seven hours of sleep is one of them. he decides not to do anything. . . for now.

zayne checks his phone to kill some time. no missed calls nor texts. it’s unusual for the surgeon to not be bombarded with calls and such, though it’s a pleasant change of pace.

his eyes dart back to your face again. no matter how many times he tries to distract himself from you, his focus always finds its way back to you. it’s like he’s subconsciously checking to see if you’re up or not.

zayne wishes to witness your face as it lights up the moment you lock eyes. to see your adorable smile that makes his heart flutter. to hold you close, cuddle with you and kiss you.

“mph,” a sudden yawn from your mouth interrupts zayne’s train of thoughts. you stretch your arms and move to lay on your back, however your eyes stay closed. you look even more adorable like that—with your hair even messier.

your lover can’t help himself like this. a slender finger reaches out to your lips, gathering the small droplet of drool at the corner. zayne’s neutral expression remains, but his eyes subtly soften once he gets to touch your skin.

“what a messy girl,” zayne mumbles to himself. he nearly makes himself chuckle, however is quick enough to bite back that short laugh. he takes his chance and subtly traces the shape of your bottom lip.

there’s no going back now that he’s touched you. his attention is now fully on you and you only.

zayne is too busy tracing your facial features to notice that you’re starting to wake up. your eyes flutter open and - to your surprise - you find your lover’s face hovering above yours.

you feel the pad of his thumb on one of your cheeks, his index and middle finger holding the other. he gently squeezes your cheeks together so that your lips form a pout. it’s secretly his favorite thing to do—makes you look silly.

“zayne?” you whisper in a groggy voice.

zayne lightly jolts in place and takes his hand away. he clears his throat awkwardly; his gaze darting back and forth between the objects in your bedroom. he purposely avoids all eye contact while maintaining a stoic expression. as if he wasn’t just caught admiring you.

“oh, you’re awake,” your lover mutters. he attempts to change topics by looking at the digital clock on your nightstand, “it’s still too early. you should go back to sleep, dear.”

you still feel flustered whenever he refers to you as ‘dear’ or any other affectionate nickname. your relationship has come so far and it warms your heart. you grin and reach your hand out to place it on zayne’s jawline.

“mm, what were you doing when i was asleep?” you ask in a teasing tone. your fingers trace his jaw gently, trailing down his neck. it makes the dark-haired man gulp lightly. there’s not much left of his self control.

zayne allows you to lead his face back to yours. the tender touch he missed so much—your warm palm meeting his cold skin—it drives him insane. he sighs, though does not admit the truth, “nothing much. just checking my schedule for the day and such.”

that gains him a playful scoff from your side. you know that’s a lie just by the memory you have of his face hovering above yours from earlier. he was admiring you. you poke the tip of his nose, “riiiight, then why were you staring at me so lovingly? touching my lips so delicately?”

you giggle as you recall that faint softness in zayne’s eyes when you caught him admiring the view of you. his fingertips treated your skin with such care. maybe you should’ve pretended to be asleep and see how things would have played out.

“ah, you see,” zayne replies in a low tone, his hand moving once more to tap at the corners of your lips. you could’ve sworn that there’s a faint grin on his face as he continues, “it’s hard to ignore the sight of you when you’re drooling all over yourself in your sleep.”

that shuts you up. you immediately try to wipe away any leftover drool from your lips. your hands work quick, but you don’t find anything to wipe off, “l-liar. i’m not drooling, thank you very much.”

zayne shakes his head with a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair. he leans in and his breath on the skin of your cheek sends shivers down your spine.

“because i got rid of it all before you woke up, sweetheart,” he mutters lowly and lets his lips graze against your cheek, “i was kind enough to help my messy little girlfriend out and save her from the embarrassment.”

you sputter an incomprehensible excuse, but fail at defending yourself from that. you know zayne is a pro at teasing when he’s in a good mood. you’re absolutely no match to him. you huff and eventually give in, “whatever.”

zayne knows he won that one. he only jokes around with you like that in hopes to seeing your adorable ‘angry’ face. that frown and pout on your face makes you look all the more pretty to him.

he sighs and spoons you—arms cradling you to his chest from behind once you turn your back to him. neither of you complain about your current position. there’s a yawn coming out of your mouth again;

“go back to sleep, i’ll be here.” zayne whispers to you and you nod.

before you close your eyes, you turn your head and stare at zayne. he gazes back down at you and that tender look in his eyes makes its appearance once more. that look which is reserved for you.

“promise me you’ll sleep too,” you mumble. your lover stays silent for a couple seconds, not knowing whether he can promise you that or not. though after seeing your little pout again, he can’t help but give in.

zayne leans in and places a reassuring kiss on your forehead, “i promise. i will.”

[dolcecherub]

surprise pit stop ➶-͙˚ ༘✶

★ pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

★ tags: op81, female reader, dirty talk, established relationship, phone sex, smut, riding, belly bulging, 2024 F1 season, excessive pet name

★ yap: second oscar fic!! lowkey very happy with this one and it was so fun to write so hopefully y'all enjoy - also please ignore any mistakes its like 2am when im posting this lol :)

★ word count: 3.2k

It had been a week since you had last seen Oscar, given that the past week and the one upcoming were part of the triple header in Spain, Austria, and Silverstone. Work had been far too busy for you to be able to go, unfortunately. But he made sure to call you before bed every night, telling you how much he missed you and having you at the end of every race.

Your heart ached. 

You were used to not seeing him for a few weeks at a time during the season, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Sporadic texts, late-night calls, seeing media posts wishing you could stand next to him in support. 

The Spanish Grand Prix did not end as Oscar had wanted, finishing 7th, and although he scored points, he was evidently snappy later that night, beating himself up for the performance he gave. You listened to his rambles about the track and how the garage was insufferably hot, laughing when he made an angry quip. The conversation fizzled as he relaxed, his tone soft as he murmured about how much he missed you, eyes hazed with sleep.

Long ‘goodnights’ and murmuring ‘I love you’s’ preceded a restless sleep for you, heart aching to hold him, body filled with need. 

Days had passed, fewer chats with Oscar, given that you were both a bit busy. Wednesday dragged on, the sun setting as you finished a few last-minute emails before calling it a day in the office. You hopped into your car, ready to drive home, when a notification flashed on your phone, seeing Oscar’s name light up the screen. 

You smile subconsciously before putting the car into gear and heading home. The ride home was peaceful, excited to get home and finally chat with Oscar. Pulling into your driveway, you grab your belongings before heading inside. You drop your bag near the door, sliding off your coat and hanging it up. Walking into your bedroom, you grab a change of clothes and get settled for bed before grabbing your phone. 

Tapping the notification, your chat with Oscar opens, your breath hitching as you process what he has sent you. His first text read, “thinking ‘bout you baby” and “I miss you.” 

What really got your heart racing was the picture that followed. 

A mirror selfie with Oscar sat on the corner of his hotel bed, shirtless, his hair tousled from a shower. His legs were spread, pyjama pants doing very little to hide the hard-on he was sporting. His biceps bulged, holding up his body as he leaned back a bit, abs clenched. Your mouth watered, imagining yourself settled between his legs, pleasing him. You sent a text back, body flushing with need. 

"Fuck Osc, that’s not fair"

He reads it immediately, typing back a quick emoji, before you see his contact pop up on your screen, an incoming call. You answer right away, giddy to hear his voice. 

“Hi, baby,” His voice is soft and raspy, your mind immediately calming, smiling at the nickname. “Hi, Osc, I miss you.”

“I miss you, wish you were here, bed’s empty without you,” 

“Only thing you’re missing?” You tease, looking back at the picture he sent you. He chuckles lowly as you hear rustling around. 

“You know exactly what I’m missing, darling.”  Your thighs clench at his tone, cheeks flushing red. You slide off your top, pushing your tits together and snapping a quick picture, sending it to Oscar. He groans, “Fuck. I’d do anything to have you here right now, baby,” His tone was needy. 

“Yeah? Gonna touch yourself thinking about me, hm? Imagining my mouth around you?” You teased, your hand sliding across your body. He groaned, a slick noise coming from his end of the phone. Your words continued, riling him up without fail as he brought himself to release, hearing your voice. 

Sweet goodbyes and a ramble of how much he loved you followed before you both settled into bed, miles apart. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

Thursday morning came, your mind made up. However it may be, you would be in Austria to support him. 

And so it began, calls with some of his PR team members, a message to co-workers letting them know you’d be working from home for a few days, quick packing, as well as booking the soonest flight. You had a rough plan, hoping to fly in Saturday night and surprise him after the race on Sunday, and although a last-minute flight would never be cheap, you knew it was worth it. 

You packed a small suitcase with essentials, as well as making sure to pack Oscar’s McLaren jersey and a cute lingerie set. You made sure to do a bit of housekeeping, not having booked a return flight just yet. 

Calls with Oscar continued, the surprise nearly slipping off your tongue a handful of times. Thankfully, a team member at McLaren had been able to snag a paddock pass to ensure you’d be able to watch the race while also letting you know his hotel information so you could wait for him after the race. 

Saturday had come quicker than expected, and next thing you know, you were settled into a hotel room in the same hotel as Oscar, antsy that he was so close yet so far. He tried to call, and you brushed it off, saying you weren’t feeling well and planned on sleeping early. He bought it, thankfully, wishing you a good night’s sleep and hoping you felt better in the morning. 

The sprint race had gone well for Oscar, placing second and scoring a few more points. However, qualifying was far less exciting, having placed seventh on the starting grid. You tucked into bed, falling asleep fairly quickly, excited for the next day. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

You woke up early, snagging a quick breakfast in the room before getting ready. You popped on Oscar’s jersey atop the lingerie you had brought, sliding on a pair of baggy jeans and a hat. You left your hair naturally, with slight waves and a light face of makeup, spritzing yourself in Oscar’s favourite perfume.

You grabbed the paddock pass you were given the night before and slipped out of the hotel room, making your way to the track.

You made sure to time it so that Oscar would likely already be in his car before you arrived to ensure he wouldn’t see you. Some of the team members smiled at your presence, knowing it would make Oscar happy. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

The race had gone better than you could have imagined, Oscar having started seventh and finishing second. You cheered loudly, proud of his performance and excited to treat him after the race.

As he finishes up with post-race interviews, you slink back to the hotel, grabbing the key card to his room and slipping in. His room looked lived in as you navigated it, sliding off your jeans and folding them on the chair before slipping into his bed. 

It felt like hours had passed when you received a text from a friend on the McLaren team letting you know that Oscar had just left the paddock and was headed back to his hotel room. Your heart sped up with excitement, hands brushing through your hair, trying to fix any loose hairs. 

The black set you had on underneath was one of Oscar’s favourites, the lace cupping your breasts perfectly, the colour stark against your skin. You hoped his jersey on top would make him feel some sort of way. 

You heard a click, the door swinging open as Oscar sighed, he hadn’t seen you yet, toeing off his shoes at the doorway before walking in. He emptied his pockets onto the table and tousled his hair as you shifted in bed, his eyes snapping to the motion and sound. 

Your eyes locked with his, a small smile adorning your face. His eyes widened in shock, “Oh my god,” He murmured before nearly catapulting himself into bed with you, arms wrapping tightly around you as he buried his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” He mumbled, placing a delicate kiss to the crevice between your neck and shoulder. 

“Congratulations, Oscar, you did so well. I’m so proud of you.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding him close and praising him. 

“You watched?” He said shocked, pulling his head back to look at you. You pointed to the paddock pass sat atop your jeans on the chair. “You watched it live?” His voice octaves higher with surprise, “You didn’t come see me.” He pouted. 

“I wanted to surprise you, thought it would be fun,” you confessed, feeling a bit nervous suddenly. He dipped his head back into your shoulder, laughing. “I’m so happy you’re here you have no idea.” He spoke, trailing kisses up from your neck to your jaw as you lightly scratched his back, body still cooling from the race. 

His lips met yours, slow and hungry, his body impossibly pressing against yours. Days of desire pouring into his kiss, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip as his teeth nipped your lip. You gasp, letting his tongue in as it licked over your own. Your hand trailing up into his hair, tugging lightly as he groans into your mouth, your thighs clenching at the noise.

His thigh slid between yours, pressing against you, Oscar’s body on top of yours, his tongue swirling with yours messily.

You whined against his mouth, heart racing as his hands slid across your hips holding them tight. You pull back to look up at him, lips glossy, eyes dark with want and his cheeks flushed. 

“You look so good in my shirt,” He mumbled, his lips trailing delicately on your neck as his hands pushed the shirt up, revealing your black lace panties that were nearly drenched from his kisses. “For me, darling?” he asked teasingly, his hands leaving the jersey midway up your stomach before grabbing your thighs and pushing them a bit farther apart. 

You nod, biting your lip as his fingers brush the inside of your thigh. “You’re so sweet to me,” He murmurs, giving short and sweet kisses between words. Your hands trail down his chest, fingers grabbing the waistband to his shorts, tugging open the button and sliding down the zipper. You peered up at him, his eyes following your hands, cock throbbing. Sliding out from under him, you stand to the side of the bed, his expression a little confused. 

“Sit back,” You asserted, grabbing your hair and pushing it to one side. Oscar swiftly moved, sitting back against the headboard, his legs spread as you climbed back onto the bed, sitting on your knees between his legs, leaning forward toward him. He watches you intently, grabbing his shirt and slipping it off, tossing it to the side, his heart racing. You tugged the top part of his shorts down, his boxers tight against his bulge as his breath hitched at the contact. You looked up at him, tugging his boxers down and pulling his cock out, tip leaking. 

You wrap a hand around him, thumb rubbing the slick precum from his tip over his cock as you pump him a few times, Oscar groaning. He slips a hand into your hair, brushing it away from your face. Leaning forward, you slide your tongue up the bottom side of his cock, eyes locked with his as you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around him and savouring the tip. He lets out a ragged groan, “Fuck, baby.”

You moaned at his words, the noise reverberating through him. You let a little spit dribble onto his cock before sliding his length into your mouth, hands pumping whatever you can’t fit. “Shit, look at you,” Oscar mumbled, his hands tangling into your hair tighter, pushing your head down slightly as you gagged. Your head came back up, hands still pumping him wetly as you caught your breath, Oscar’s leg twitching at the sensations. His hand quickly stopped yours, letting out a sigh, his reddened tip leaking. Your thighs clenched, feeling sticky from your arousal. 

“What?” You giggled shyly, hands still slowly pumping him despite the resistance. “You’re gonna make me cum, darling,” He chuckled breathlessly. You opened your mouth, slapping his cock on your tongue a few times before slipping it back into your mouth all the way, your nose touching his body, his cock throbbing. Oscar let out a guttural groan, head slamming back against the headboard at the sight of you.

You pulled him out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you to him as you licked your lips. Oscar lifted his hips, sliding his shorts and boxer off in one smooth go, tossing them with his shirt as he beckons you closer. Crawling onto his lap, his hands grab your hips pulling you closer as his lips landed on yours, tongue sliding against yours, hotly tasting himself on your tongue. 

You moan into his mouth, feeling him press against your core. “Take ‘em off baby,” Oscar says, snapping the edge of your panties against your hip. Obeying, you tug them off, thighs slick with arousal as you drop the panties to the side before climbing back onto his lap. His hands return to your hips, your wet heat sliding against his cock, teasing him as he groans. His hands slide back, squeezing your ass and pushing you forward. 

“You look so good in my jersey, my name on your back,” his lips suckling light marks on your neck as you grind your hips. You get up on your knees, his cock popping up, tip meeting your entrance. Oscar grabs himself, rubbing against you teasingly wetting himself as you begin to settle. His tip slides in, your mind dizzying at the stretch. You slide your hands to his shoulders, slowly taking inch by inch till your hips meet his, Oscar mezmerized by you. 

“You’re so big, Osc, fuck,” You whine out, moving your hips back and forth getting comfortable with the stretch. 

“You can take it, baby,” He assures, his hand rubbing over the slight bulge evident on your tummy under his jersey, his eyes hooked onto it watching himself inside you, the other moving your hips. 

You whimper at the pressure, finally moving your hips up and down slowly, Oscar grabbing your hips as he groans, watching you bounce. Your hips moved slowly in a menacing pace, unintentionally teasing him. You clenched around him, moaning as he fucks up into you, hands holding you down. 

“C’mon baby, you’re doing so well for me,” He praised as you whined, “You want me to help you darling, need my help, hm?” 

You leaned forward, ass pushing back a little as your forehead fell to his shoulder, “Please Oscar, n-need it,” You whimpered, begging him as his cock throbbed. His hands tighten on your hips, surely leaving marks for the next morning. He pumps his hips up into you, your mouth leaving sloppy kisses on his neck as he hits a spot inside you making you whimper loudly. 

“Look at you taking my cock, darling.” He praises, hips pistoning at a brutal pace, your mind dizzy as you fail to answer, whimpers and moans spilling out, your hands grabbing his shoulders. 

“Missed you so much,” He groaned, slowing down his thrusts to a teasing pace dragging his cock before thrusting back up into you. “Osc… fuck.” You moaned, looking at him with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. He continued murmuring sweet praises, a knot building tight in your stomach, your inner thighs sticky as Oscar continued his dizzying thrusts. 

“You’re so good for me darling,” He groaned, his abs clenching, “Treating me to this sweet pussy, letting me fuck you like this,” His filthy words making your head spin as you whimpered. His cock filled you deliciously, feeling yourself clench around him as you tumbled closer to the edge. 

His jersey clung to your damp skin, your mouth slack as he fucked you, the slow drag of his cock leaving you breathless. “Pretty girl,” He mumbled, suckling another mark onto your neck before leaving a soft kiss to your lips, your mind far too fuzzy to kiss him back hungrily. 

“Osc I- fuck,” You whine, “I’m gonna cum,” You whimpered, your stomach tightening with need. “Cum for me baby, c’mon,” He teased, his one hand sliding between your thighs, rubbing slow circles on your clit as he continued thrusting his hips up into you. 

You feel your legs shake, clenching around him as you let go, mind fuzzy as you nearly collapse onto him, moans and the filthy slap of skin filling the air. Oscar’s hip faltered slightly, feeling you cum around him but he continued, his cock throbbing with need to finish.

“Your pussy was made for me, baby. Gonna let me cum?” He groaned, hips thrusting faster with need. You whimper at his words, too far gone to speak as you nod your head, biting your lip. 

“Let me fill that sweet pussy, darling.” Oscar moans breathlessly. His hips stutter as you tighten around him, his cock twitching inside you, warmth filling you as he groans. Oscar’s head drops to your shoulder, hips slowly fucking into you as his release filled you. He brings his head up, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips, hand sliding comfortingly against your back as you feel his cum drip out of you and coat your thighs, a filthy sight that Oscar revelled at. 

“You’re so good to me, darling, I love you,” He praised, pushing the damp hairs off of your forehead and placing delicate kisses across your face as he pulled out slowly. You whined at the loss, feeling empty as he leaked out of you.

He let out a sigh, holding you closer, before moving to get up, still holding onto you. He places you down on the bed gently, quickly grabbing a cloth to wipe both of yourselves down before getting settled for bed. Slipping on a pair of boxers, he grabbed an extra t-shirt for you, helping you peel off the jersey and slip on the t-shirt before bed. 

Oscar slid into bed with you, your eyes fighting to stay open as you curled yourself around him, leg propping onto his hip, his arms bringing your body closer as he gently kissed you. 

“I love you, Osc.” you mumbled, kissing the tip of his nose before nuzzling it with your own. A small smile on his face as he pulled you impossibly closer. “I’m happy you came,” He spoke, cuddling into your hair, you couldn’t help the joke. “Oh, I am too.” You giggled, twisting his words lightheartedly. He chuckled, squeezing your hip at the innuendo, placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head before you both silently lulled to sleep. 

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

Silverstone wasn’t all that bad, Oscar having placed fourth. 

Perhaps you were good luck, you thought, as Oscar ran over to you following the race, kissing you like he had never been happier.  

─── ⋆⋅✩⋅⋆ ───

[divadepreshawn]

𝑬𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒔𝒔

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader

I think it's more like BAU × fem!reader

Summary: The downside of seeing the team as family is intimacy

Today was a relatively quiet day at the office, no cases at the moment, no emergency trips, just a mountain of paperwork to finish.

You decided that you deserved a break and as a reward for your effort - which in this case was not having freaked out yet - you treated yourself to a coffee with lots of caramel and whipped cream.

You were at your desk absentmindedly sipping your coffee while looking towards Hotch's office.

Subconsciously, of course.

At first, you looked because the window of your office was right in your line of sight, so it was natural to look, right? Your mind was far from the report you needed to finish filling out.

Your brain loves to get distracted by anything when you have to fill out paperwork.

Spencer had given you the name of a store that had the vinyl record you had been looking for for a while.

"Maybe I should stop by after work" you mumble before drinking some more coffee and- Did Hotch always have that pen? It practically disappeared in his fingers as he filled out the report. It shouldn't be that appealing, should it?

“For the love of god, it's just a pen,” you shake your head, “I need to finish this soon, I'm going crazy,” you straighten up in your chair to focus on the report.

But there's something that always pulls your gaze back to the window. You secretly nicknamed Hotch the black hole, not only for the intensity of his presence, but for the inevitable way he draws your attention no matter what you're doing. It's unfair how he manages to draw your attention without any effort. So what else could you do but give in to the universe's wishes?

The way a small strand of his hair fell over his forehead when he leaned down slightly, how his mouth turned into a straight line when he analyzed the finished report, how terribly hot he looked when he massaged his temples.

You find yourself imagining what it would be like to massage his shoulders until that frown between his eyebrows diminished.

Your gaze continues downwards, his tie was slightly lower than usual, his shirt was a little tight on the arm, just enough for imagination, you bite the bottom of your lip, that shade of blue suits him.

Will this chair hold the two of you? Probably not, but the table should be strong enough to hold you and-

“Girl you're making me blush” Emily's voice brings you back to reality.

You blink in surprise, frowning slightly, turning to her “Hum..?”

“Oh please, the way you look at him, it's like you're going to devour him any minute”

You widen your eyes and can feel the extremities of your body slightly losing their ability to circulate “I wasn't- I'm just thinking about what I have to do after I get out of here, I wasn't focusing on anything specific” you answer quickly while gesturing with your hand.

“Is it in your plan to eat Hotch?” She asks with a mischievous smile.

Yes, in every corner of that office.

“What? Oh my god, no.” You answer quickly, too quickly, which she might have missed if your voice hadn’t gone up an octave.

“Honey, you’re insulting my intelligence and competence in this job.” She leans back in her chair with a playful smile.

You let out a frustrated groan, hiding your face in your hands. “I don’t—you’re overreacting.”

“Who’s overreacting?” JJ approaches with a cup of coffee.

“No one is exaggerating, I'm being very honest with the facts” Emily clicks her tongue and points her index finger at you “She's looking at Hotch like a wolf looks at a lamb”

“I told you, I was just thinking” you defend yourself

JJ analyzes you while taking a sip of coffee “Nah, it's not just that… you're closer than before” she turned to Emily “You know what, the other day I caught Penelope giving Hotch a lesson on pop culture”

“You're kidding” she smiles incredulously.

“Seriously, I got to the part about pop divas, the weirdest thing is that he really seemed interested in how a pop diva is built, his jaw dropped when Pen told him that Beyoncé's father made her run and sing on a treadmill, he asked if that wouldn't get you arrested or something.” She shrugs.

“He’s learning about what you like.. Oh my god, that’s it.” She lets out an exaggerated sigh, placing her hand on her chest.

“..What is that..?” You ask, slightly suspicious.

“He likes you! He’s so grumpy today because he thinks you have a date tomorrow. I didn’t think I’d be alive to see him with someone again. How old are you? About 10 years?” She seems to think for a while, but then dismisses him with her hand. “Well, that doesn’t really matter.”

“Some women prefer older men. They’re more mature, have financial security, know how to communicate, have had previous experiences, so they know exactly how to have a relationship. There are some articles that say that it’s even biological for women to seek out older men and for men to seek out younger women. Something about the biological clock and reproductive capacity. Research shows that couples with this age difference are more likely to have more children than couples who are the same age.”

“..Spence?” You look at him in shock as you can feel the heat rising up your neck.

“W-what” he looks up from his computer, blushing when he realizes he said it out loud “I-I didn’t mean to, um” he clears his throat “It’s just…well, he’s not as discreet as he thinks”

“Excuse me?” You ask genuinely confused.

“What? What do you know?” JJ and Emily ask in unison.

“Um…when we need to catch the jet there’s always a blanket on top of Y/N’s seat, Hotch places it there surreptitiously every time he thinks no one is looking, in the SUV the heater is always on, even when it’s hot for us because we all know Y/N gets colder than usual, not to mention when we go to a snowy city and he mysteriously feels kind enough to buy us all 3 coffees a day.” Spencer answers counting on his fingers as he speaks.

You look at Spencer like he has two heads now “Did you hit your head?”

“No honey, he’s well aware and you’re not far behind” Derek replies joining Spencer’s side.

“Where are you guys coming from? Doesn’t anyone else work in this office?”

“Don’t try to hide it” He smiles “You stay late every Friday to help him with the paperwork, he fills it out and you scan it so he can go home early, you’re reading more about human development even though you only use the basics in cases, I can swear it’s to help him with Jack and I’ll change my name right now if you weren’t the one who gave him that massager that’s attached to his chair to ease his lower back pain”

Okay, now your jaw is on the floor “How did you…?”

“I know a lot of things.” He boasts with a smile.

“Why did my love life become so interesting to you guys?”

“Because Hotch made me redo the same report three times, if I have to redo it a fourth time I’ll be arrested, do you want my son to grow up without his mother?” JJ closes her eyes and points at you.

“Hmm… I don’t think so”

She smiles “Great, if you don’t mind we’ll continue”

People think JJ is the calmest of the group, but appearances can be deceiving. She’s the scariest.

“I can’t believe you guys got together and didn’t call me. Next time, besides a lecture on sexual harassment and language at work, you’ll have to hear about ageism too” Rossi approaches with a smile. “What are we talking about?”

“You know what intimacy is?” You ask as you rest your face on your hand

“Hmm… what about it?” And he hums in confusion

“She’s a piece of shit”

Rossi laughs, settling himself next to Emily

“Don’t say that, honey, we just want our father to be happy” Derek smiles, pointing to Hotch’s office with his head.

“Are you implying that Hotch is our father figure?-” Spencer starts but is interrupted by Rossi

“Oh so you guys are finally dating? I thought turning you into the 4th Mrs. Rossi would be faster than him admitting it and asking you out on a date”

“You naughty, so you guys are already dating?” Emily crosses her arms with a mocking smile

You sigh “I’m not dating him, we’re just friends”

“Let me get this straight” Derek starts “You want me to believe that Hotch was one step away from jumping on that Vegas cop’s neck just because he’s your friend? Nah, nonsense, he likes you!”

“Hey, his name is Nick, and he’s been my friend for at least 10 years, and Hotch wasn’t like that because he likes me, he just has trust issues.” You shake your head.

Do you like your boss? Yes.

Would you go out with him? Yes.

Do you have dirty thoughts every time you see him in that damn FBI vest? More than you’d admit out loud.

But there’s no way it’s reciprocal, is there? I mean, what Spencer said applies to the others too, Hotch takes care of all of you.

Rossi looks at you for a while, analyzing if you really don’t know or if you’re just pretending.

“Right, and his bad mood today certainly has nothing to do with the date you have scheduled for tomorrow, right? There must be another reason why he's mad at the wind today.”

You frown “It's not a date, Nick is coming to a convention here and then I'm taking him to see Quantico.” You grimace “He's like a brother.”

“Every time I remember that you used to work with Crime Scene Investigation you get like, 100 times hotter.” Penelope's voice comes from the landline on your desk.

Everyone stares at the phone with wide eyes.

“What the fuck—”

Derek lets out an incredulous laugh “Babygirl, how are you?”

“I'm in everything all the time my chocolate thunder.” She answers and you can tell she's smiling by her tone of voice.

“That's… disturbing.” JJ mumbles still in shock, you nod.

“But I agree with the others, Hotch thinks too much and ends up complicating things that were supposed to be simple, I think you should ask him out” Penelope whispers the last part. “Oh and I’ve already prepared the ground, you can talk about anything in pop culture.”

You sigh looking at them and then at Hotch, who was still focused on reading the report.

“I could even believe you, but you’re crazy so the chance of me getting dumped, going into a spiral of depression and constant embarrassment until I quit or jump off a building is about 80%.”

“A hypothetical dump” Rossi comments while faking a cough.

Spencer straightens up in his chair “Actually I’d say the chances of Hotch dumping you are 0.001% to-”

Hotch opens the door to his office putting only half of his body outside “Case report Jane” he looks at the report and then at you “Redo it, all of you.” and then goes back to the office.

Everyone sighs, muttering small curses.

“Can you please be so kind as to go over there and ask him out on a date?” Emily pleads with her hand on her chest “No, better yet, can you go over there and eat him?”

“I second that, I’ll clear the office in two minutes” JJ raises her hand.

“I’ll finish your reports and Reid will scan what Hotch has already approved.” Derek points to his chest and then to Spencer who nods in agreement.

“I have a really good acquaintance, I’m going to buy the softest couch there is for that office” Rossi picks up his cell phone to make a call.

Penelope lets out an excited squeal “You don’t need to say anything else my loves, I’ll set the mood.” As if it wasn’t absurd enough, your phone starts ringing Careless Whisper.

You shake your head as you hide your face in your hand “Seriously, I hate you guys.”

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Sorry for any mistake, english is not my first language

[donatellawritings]

୨୧ based on this submission from @sageworld

boxer!rafe & shy!reader bc they are cuties xx

a big fat reason why you were such a shy and mousey little thing was due to your thick latin accent and broken english. sure, you could hold your own with basic conversations, but your doe eyes never missed the way people squinted into over-exerted focus as you spoke. you were well aware of how you mispronounced words and the way you subconsciously elongated the wrong consonants, so you completely despised having to speak, unless you were spoken to. after spending about an hour with you, rafe was fully aware of your cute quirk and welcomed it with open arms.

quite frankly, the way your tongue carefully sang each word with practiced effort was heart wrenchingly adorable to him … and he silently wished that you’d never stop talking.

“okay, mama — y’gotta use y’words, just like i’ve been teachin’ you, yeah?” rafe calls out from the bathroom, steam leaking through the opened door, his voice raised, thanks to the toothbrush that rested between his teeth.

with a frustrated huff, you quickly blinked back the tears of defeat that welled in your bambi eyes, tilting your head back in a desperate attempt to stop your whiny tears from ruining your makeup that’s you’d spent a whopping hour and a half doing … it was so pretty, soft, and sparkly — messing it up would just send you over the edge.

you remained with your head tilted back for about a minute before the pinned up curls that covered your head became too heavy for your neck, “don’t want to, papi — i feel stupid,” you pouted your lips, swollen from the glittery plumping gloss that you’d applied just a few minutes prior.

rafe had taken it upon himself to be proactive when it came to breaking you away from your shy shell, and he figured that if you tackled your largest insecurity first — the rest would be a piece of cake. so, rafe decided that he simply wouldn’t talk to you, if you only gave him one worded answers or hummed responses.

“hey — fix y’face, no reason to be havin’ an attitude,” rafe enters his bedroom, towel hung low on his semi-wet hips as he snaps a corrective finger in your direction, his glassy eyes glaring into yours as you nod obediently.

adjusting the hem of your powder pink skims bandeau top, or lack thereof, to sit just a bit higher on your perky and swollen tits, you comply, “the pr-press thingy — yo no quiero ir,” you speak, your voice shaky as you approach rafe, bare feet padding against the polished hardwood flooring, “s’too many people,” you add in a low mumble.

acknowledging your concerns with a simple nod, rafe rolls his shoulders, the towel that once hung around his hips now replaced with grey briefs as he glances over at you, before letting out a hum of feigned thought, “that’s what had y’all fussy? jesus, baby,” he sighs, allowing his tight shoulders to soften as he nudges the tip of your chin with the knuckle of his index finger.

letting out an embarrassed whine, you closed the gap between you and rafe, swinging your arms around his tense neck as you jump from the tips of your painted toes, snaking your legs around his waist, earning a knowing sigh from your man, “y’know i can’t have you sitting here alone — need to keep an eye on you, mama,” he coos, keeping a free arm curled underneath the fat of your plush ass and thighs as he continues to make his way towards your shared closet, hiking you up to sit up a bit higher on his buff and toned frame.

“no soy una niña — y’not being nice,” you speak against the side of rafe’s neck, earning a quick slap to your bare ass, “raafe, that was hard,” you moan, lightly swatting your hand against his firm pecs.

rolling his eyes, rafe grabbed ahold of a the crisp navy blue suit jacket that hung neatly, his voice monotone as he searches for his matching slacks, “not a little girl, huh? y’sure as hell are actin’ like one, princess,” he comments blankly, his squinted eyes widening as he nudges your waist with the metal part of the hanger that held his jacket, “hold this f’me.”

with a bratty roll of your eyes, your small hand grips the hanger, your chin resting atop of rafe’s flexed clavicle as your makeup remains in tact.

fisting his slacks and louis vuitton belt in his grip, rafe walks out of the closet, leaving your legs to cling tightly around his waist as he walks towards his king sized bed, spinning lowering his frame to sit down on the edge of the bed, with you straddling him as his loving gaze met your sparkling eyes.

“okay baby, who’s the man that keeps a smile on y’face, huh?”

biting back a blush, you quickly peck your tingling lips against rafe’s, “rafe cameron,” you speak confidently, oblivious to the way the man before you’s dick began to tent within the thin fabric of his briefs. fuck, he loved the way your latin tongue rolled over each letter with innocent seduction.

“yeah?” rafe raises his eyebrows, “and who is rafe cameron,” he pushes, tonguing the inside of his cheek, eyeing the way you fiddled with your fingers as the cogs in your pretty little head began to turn.

batting your wispy lashes, you take a small breath — you practiced this, “rafe cameron is th-the future uni-unified champion and the el-dest son of w-ward cameron,” you exhale, immediately breaking eye contact with rafe as you force yourself to focus on your freshly manicured nails.

“there you go! see, y’talk just fine, hm?” rafe praises, sealing it with a playful nudge to your jaw, just as his free hand snaps the band of your thong to slap the skin of your hip.

with a sharp gasp you sucked your teeth, craning you neck to see the light red marking left by the skin-tight fabric, “ay, rafe dejarme quieta!” you whined, pathetically fighting your way out of rafe’s grip, much to no avail.

securing both of your wrists in one of his hands, rafe patted the meat of the side of your ass cheek, “a’ight, cut it out — was just playin’ around,” he grabs your cheeks with his free hand, silencing you with a sloppy and slobbery kiss.

annoyed whines left your mouth as you felt the sticky gloss smear off of your lips and onto your chin, “hmph — papi, my lipgl-” you were quickly cut off by your own needy moan as rafe slid his tongue up your lips, before swallowing your mouth into a deeper kiss.

“i know, baby,” rafe mumbles into the kiss, your concealer and lipgloss painted on his chin and jaw as you tightened your arms around his neck, both of your tongues lazily lapping at each other.

the messy and sticky kiss continued for a few more minutes, before you ran out of breath — your once flawless makeup now left smeared and patchy as your lips, now red and swollen, and a bit sore stretched into a cheesy smile. a few of your pinned-up curls had fallen, some wild strands of hair sticking to your lips as you wiped the messy corners rafe’s sticky and glittery lips with the pad of your thumb.

“thank you, sweetheart,” rafe chuckled, not missing the way you still couldn’t maintain direct eye contact with him.

who would even begin to think that he still hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend yet?

[wwooyology]

Rough Me Up | P.JS

「pairing」 : bf!jay x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.2k

「synopsis」 : you and jay have been together for a few years and you couldn't be happier, but there's was something about your sex life that was just too plain. too vanilla. you wanted something more, but you were scared to ask so you rant to your best friend, only this is..... jay heard everything and he plans on giving you everything you want and more.

「genre」 : smut, tinge of fluff

「warnings」 : MINORS NOT INTERACT!!, cussing, mentions of porn, making out, degration, praising, petnames (princess, baby, love, slut, good girl...), choking, breath play, begging, oral (f. receiving), biting/marking, fingering, manhandling, dom!jay x sub!reader, slight teasing, cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie, hair pulling, spitting, bulge kink, breeding kink, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : I would like to wish a very beautiful girl a very happy birthday! happy birthday nessa (aka @heeslomll) I hope you've had an amazing day and that you enjoy this fic I pulled together as a present! I love you sm and can't wait to hear what you think 🤭

“You don’t get it Nia,” You pinched the bridge of your nose, eyes closed as you paced the ground by the end of you and Jay’s shared bed, “you and Jungwon actually have an interesting sex life.” you could recall the times that she had called gushing about all of the new things that they would try, whether you really wanted to know or not.

“Then talk to him girl, it wouldn’t hurt and hey maybe he’s just been scared you wouldn’t be into it.” Nia shrugged from the other side of the phone, she had heard this conversation from you countless times. Even more here as of late because you had just got off your period and were going insane because of ovulation.

You groaned once more, “what am I supposed to tell him? ‘Hey Jay I’m tired of the boring shit you should tie me up and fuck me till I pass out’ or maybe ‘I want you to pull my hair and spit in my mouth’.” 

Nia burst out laughing on the other side of the phone causing you to roll your eyes as you walked over to the window. The thoughts of Jay doing all of those things to you were making you all hot and bothered, your thighs subconsciously rubbing together to try and relieve some of the pressure.

“Girl, how much porn have you been watching?” She asked between laughter, “just ask him if he would consider it, you know how much he cares about you y/n.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. You knew she was right, that all you had to do was talk to Jay about it, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by it. What if he thought that you didn’t enjoy the sex that you did have? Or what if he thought you were weird for being into the more kinkier side of things?

Clearing your throat you just decided that you would just keep your mouth shut, too embarrassed. Biting at your bottom lip you just told Nia that you would call her later and she sighed before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Your whole body felt warm, needing to fill your veins, but Jay was downstairs cooking dinner so you weren’t going to bother him. Trying to shake the feeling off a bit so you could take a shower to maybe cool off, you turned only for your breath to hitch in your throat.

Jay stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Your heart started to race, heat creeping up your neck, praying that he had just gotten there and didn’t hear a word of your conversation. Your tongue jutted out to wet your lips as you tried your best to keep his intense eye contact.

“H-Hey baby,” You cured yourself for stuttering, instantly giving yourself away. “Is dinner done?” You tried to keep your voice steady as you watched him push off of the door frame, walking towards you.

All of the hairs on your body stood up as Jay made his way closer, his eyes bore into you like a wolf stalking a rabbit. Swallowing thickly you started to back away with every step that he made towards you.

Your heart was beating loud enough that you were sure that he could hear it and your face felt so warm that you started to wonder how you hadn’t passed out yet.

“Jay?” You called out his name as your back came into contact with the wall, stopping your movements. “What are you-”

“You know…” He cut your words short as he closed the space between you, hand pressed against the wall next to your head taking in the panic in your eyes. Your heart nearly stopped when he leaned down until his lips were right next to your ear, “I never thought my sweet little princess was such a nasty slut.”

Your eyes went wide as he backed away to meet your eyes once more, he had heard the conversation. So many things started to spiral in your head, did he really think that? Had you grossed him out? 

All of those thoughts came to a screeching halt when he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up until his lips were merely inches away from yours. Your eyes flutter closed waiting for him to close the space between you. However, he doesn't instead he rubs your bottom lip with his thumb, prompting you to open your eyes.

“Is that something you really want, princess?” He asked, eyes searching yours as you looked up at him. Not having the courage to speak the words you went with nodding your head softly, but Jay just shook his, “I’mma need to hear you say it love.” His voice dropped an octave making your knees weak.

Swallowing thickly, “yes, I want this Jay. Please.” your voice was merely a whisper, but the male had heard it nonetheless. 

“Good girl.” Jay’s voice was like honey, coxing you into a trance. Your eyes fluttered closed once more as he closed the gap between the both of you, stealing the air from your lungs. His lips were soft against yours, moving slowly as his hand moved from your chin to encase your throat causing a small squeak to leave you lips, but it was quickly swallowed by his lips.

“Jay.” You whined as he pulled his lips away from yours trailing down your jaw, nipping at the skin. The hand around your throat moved away allowing him to leave wet, hot kisses along your jugular. 

You could feel your panties growing wetter and wetter by the second as his hands roamed your body, squeezing your hips before trailing down to your thighs.Before you could even process it Jay lifted you off of your feet, hoisting you up his hip. In seconds Jay’s lips were back on yours as he walked towards the bed, laying you down on the soft mattress. Small whines fell from your lips as his hands wandered from your inner thigh to your core, pressing down enough to elicit an actual moan from your lungs.

Jay pulled away from you so he could take in your dazed eyes, your kiss swollen lips and how your chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. He had been holding back for so long, thinking that you wouldn’t like how rough he could be, but seeing how desperately you had wanted it when you were on the phone with your friend. It was driving him crazy thinking about how much he could ruin you.

His eyes followed your hands as you reached for the hem of his shirt, but he was quick to grab your wrists, holding them in place.

“Here’s the deal baby,” He looked down at you with a lust filled gaze causing you to bite your lip, “if you want this, we’re doing things my way, meaning…” Dropping your hands he grabbed your thighs pulling your lower body flush against his and a gasp escaped from your lips as you felt his erection against your clothed core. “You just be a good girl and listen.”

You nodded quickly, the need to have him touch you growing way too strong to care. Jay smirked knowing that you were already losing yourself, making his job a bit easier. Biting his lip he leaned back over you, pressing his bulge against you, watching your eyes roll slightly. 

His hands moved to the hem of your shorts, fingers looping around the band to pull them down. Your whole body was tingling with excitement, you weren’t sure what to expect but you were going to take anything and everything that he has to offer you.

“Jay, please.” You whined, lifting your hips slightly, your body shivering when you felt him against you.

Chuckling, Jay made quick work of your sleep shorts and underwear, leaving your bottom half completely bare. Once the articles of clothing were discarded elsewhere in the room, he moved down until he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt. Your heated gaze followed after him, watching in anticipation.

“Oh you’re dripping baby,” He teased as he spread your folds, taking in the way your hole clenched around nothing. A gasp fell from your lips when buried his face in your cunt, nose bumping your clit as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck princess, you smell so sweet.”

Your thighs already started to tremble when he licked a stripe up your slit before wrapping his lips around your clit. A loud moan ripped through your throat when he started to devour your pussy like it was his last meal.

“Fuck Jay!” You cried out, your hand flying to his head, finger gripping on his hair. You back arched off of the bed, pushing your hips further into his face causing him to groan. Jay was quick to press his hand flat down on your stomach, keeping you in place.

Choked moans fall from your lips as your head falls back, fingers gripping Jay’s hair tightly. The pain only spurred Jay on further.

Sparks flew across your vision as he moved down to your slit, tongue moving along your velvet walls while his nose rubbed your clit in ways that left you seeing stars. Your orgasm was right on the tip of your tongue and your legs shook on either side of his head.

“F-Fuck! Jay!” You cried out as your body started to spasm, toes curling as your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as he moves back up to your clit, sucking on it harshly. “Jay, ‘s too much.” Whimpers fall from your lips as he keeps up his pace throwing your body into overstimulation.

“You can take it baby,” He pulled away, allowing your vision to focus for a moment, until his fingers started to trace your entrance. “This is what you wanted after all.” Then he slipped his middle and ring finger inside of your soaping cunt with little to no resistance. Your back started to arch once more, but his hand on your stomach pressed down firmly causing you to whine.

“J-Jay… fuck!” You moaned out as the pace of his fingers picked up, rubbing one picurlier spot which left you lying there breathless. “Jay, shit please.” 

Jay didn’t say a word as he latched his lips back to your clit, completely losing himself in the taste of you.

Your heartbeat was ringing in your ears as your mouth gaped open, your head falling back. Stars danced across your vision, your whole body shaking underneath Jay’s hold. The pace of his fingers was relentless as he easily found the spongy spot inside your pussy, making you cry out his name. Your whole body tingled as all of your senses became overwhelmed, thighs trembling, threatening to close. Noticing this, Jay took his hand from your stomach to grip one of your thighs tightly.

You weren’t able to give him a warning as you came around his fingers, as he continued to suck on your clit in time with his fingers. Feeling you squeeze around his fingers as you cried out his name left Jay groaning against you.

“Fuck baby, you came so much.” He cooed at you as his fingers continued to work into your sensitive cunt, prolonging your orgasm until you shook tremendously.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall as he rubs your sweet spot once more. Your hand falls from his hair to grab at his wrist, hoping to pull his hand away from your sensitive pussy.

“Come on, princess, give me one more.” He smirked as he kissed his way up your tummy, moving your shirt out of the way. You whined when his thumb made contact with your clit, your head falling back, allowing Jay to latch his lips to the soft skin of your neck.

“Jay, I can’t, please.” You whimpered as you clenched around his fingers once more, your orgasm right on the horizon, but Jay just sped his fingers up more, causing a choked moan to fall from your lips.

“Take it like a good girl, and stop whining.” He growled against your skin, making your head spin at the tone. Moving away from your neck, he hovered over you, taking in the fucked out expression on your face with a smug smirk. “You are a good girl, right?” He asked, watching in amusement when you shook your head vigorously, biting your bottom lip.

After a few more strokes of his fingers, you came undone around Jay’s fingers for the second time, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as silent screams fall from your lips. Jay’s fingers move along your silky walls, helping you ride out your orgasm.

Your chest heaved as Jay pulled his drenched digits from your core, bringing them up to tap on your bottom lip, looking at you expectantly. You looked at him with dazed, wide eyes.

“Go on, clean my fingers; this is your mess, after all.” He raised an eyebrow, tapping your lips once more, prompting you to open them. He watched with a smirk as you allowed him to stick his soaked fingers into your mouth.

Wrapping your lips around his fingers, tongue dancing around his digits. Your brain nearly short-circuited at the taste of your own release. Jay bit back a groan, his pants becoming uncomfortably tight.

Once he deemed his fingers clean enough, he pulled them from your mouth, watching the string of saliva grow thin until it snapped. You breathed deeply as he moved away from your body, tugging at the strings of his sweatpants.

Your eyes stayed trained on his body as he pulled his shirt over his head, allowing you to ogle at his toned stomach. Feeling your eyes on him, Jay looks over at you, meeting your eyes and sending you a wink. Heat crept up your neck as you kept his eye contact.

After Jay had discarded all of his clothing, letting his hard cock spring free, beads of precum decorating the tip. Your thighs clenched together at the sigh, mouth-watering, wanting nothing more than to crawl to him and let him use your throat until he was content. However, Jay had a different plan, leaving that idea for the next time.

Jay made his way back to the bed, sitting down where his back was pressed against the headboard. You sat up on shaky arms, watching and waiting for his instructions, not wanting to do anything against his command.

“Come here, princess.” He motioned you forward and you did as told, moving towards him on shaky legs.

His hands grab your hips as you straddle his waist, your heart hammering in your chest as the need starts to creep up your spine once more. One of your hands gripped his shoulder while the other went down to his dick, starting to line it up with your entrance. Jay couldn’t help but chuckle at how desperate you were to have him in you.

However, his grip on your hips tightened, keeping you from sinking down onto him fully. A whine tore through your throat as you looked at him with teary eyes. You tried to wiggle your hips as you felt his tip prodding at your entrance, but not quite going in.

“Mmm, what do good girls do?” He asked, leaning forward to press hot kisses along your collarbone. You whined, fingers digging into his forearms as you fought against his grip, just wanting to sink down onto him. Noticing that you weren’t going to do as he said, he pulled away, a hard gaze fixed on his features. “Don’t make me ask again.” Jay’s voice was cold, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

A whine fell from your lips as you met his heated gaze. The tears that pooled at your waterline broke free. Frustration bubbled in your chest, biting on the inside of your cheek. You wanted to talk back and tell him to just let you ride him, but you had a feeling that doing so would just result in the opposite. Then it clicked in your brain: This could be what gets you what you want.

“Just fuck me, Jay.” You sassed with a roll of your eyes and it was then that something switched in Jay’s mind. Something clouds his mind as he flips the two of you around until you are lying on your back, staring at him with wide eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, but only a small squeak came out as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, squeezing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, staring up at him, body wiggling underneath him in anticipation.

“What happened to my good girl?” Jay asked the corner of his lip twitching and his eyes growing dark. 

You couldn’t help the smirk that started to spread on your lips. You were not entirely sure what was coming over you, but the insatiable need to act out was stronger than ever. The expression, however, only annoyed Jay further, though your next words finally pushed him over the edge.

“The good girl is gone, Jjong, fuck me like the slut that I am.” Your voice was sweet like honey as you stared up at him with doe eyes.

“So you wanna be treated like a slut?” He chuckled darkly, causing more heat to pool in the pit of your stomach, “then I’ll treat you like a slut.” 

He then slid inside your wet heat in one go, causing your jaw to go slack, eyes rolling back. Broken moans fall through your lips as his pace picks up, not giving you a moment to adjust. His hold on your throat tightens as he fucks into you, dark spots clouding your vision.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl?” Jay chuckled, hips snapping into yours, hitting all of the right spots deep inside of your cunt. 

His hold on your throat tightens until you are left with very little oxygen supply, making your brain go hazy. Jay watched smugly as your mouth opened, gasping as he positioned his cock into your cunt. It wasn’t until your nails were digging into his wrist, gasping for breath and walls clenching around him tightly, that he loosened his grip, allowing you to breathe.

“Fuck baby, you’re squeezing me so tight.” Jay groaned, his other hand squeezing your hip to keep you in place. As you started to squirm, the sensitivity started to get to you. He watched as your mouth dropped open once more, and a thought flooded into his mind.

Leaning down, “Stick your tongue out, princess.” His voice was husky as he bit back a groan from how tight you were squeezing him, a tell-tale sign that you were close. You whined as he brushed over your sweet spot, pulling more tears from your eyes. Moving his hand from your neck, he grabs your cheeks, smooshing them together, making your eyes focus on him. “Stick your tongue out,” Jay repeated himself with a growl and this time you did as told, letting your tongue loll out. 

Jay gathered a ball of saliva in his mouth before spitting into your mouth, watching as it slid down your tongue, which only made him ten times harder. When you closed your mouth to swallow without him telling you to do so, he groaned. 

“Jay!” You screamed his name as he slammed into you roughly, inching you closer to your orgasm, black dots clouding your vision. 

“Are you close already, baby?” He cooed mockingly as he removed his hand from your face to place it back on your throat, squeezing until a choked moan came from your lips. His other hand then moves down to circle your clit, eliciting a breathless cry from your lungs.

With a few more tweaks of his fingers on your little bundle of nerves had you falling over the edge. Your back arched off of the bed, a strangled cry falling from your lips as your walls started to flutter around Jay’s cock. Jay groaned loudly as he continued to pound into you, relishing in the lewd sounds that came from your spasming cunt.

“Fuck princess,” He chuckled but was cut off as you squeezed him rather tightly, nearly knocking him over the edge as well, but he wasn’t quite ready yet. So he slowed his movements until he was completely still, allowing you to breathe for just a moment.

“J-Jay…” You whined when he pulled out of your abused pussy, but you couldn’t help but feel empty and want nothing more than to have him stuff you full once more.

Just as you were about to open your mouth to beg him to fuck you full of his cum, he let go of your throat and flipped your body around until you were lying on your stomach. A gasp fell from your lips when he grabbed your hips to pull you up, laying on your knees and forearms.

“We’re not done yet, still gotta stuff my little slut full of my cum.” He teased your entrance with his tip once more, listening to your whines, “Stuff you so full you’ll be lucky I don’t get you pregnant.”

A choked gasp fell from your lips as he slid into once more, your cum and slick, making it far too easy to do so. Your eyes roll at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix with each thrust, making your whole body tremble from the oversensitivity.

“You would like that thought, wouldn’t you?” Jay teased, hands gripping your hips tightly as he continued to fuck into you, “You’d look so fucking hot carrying my baby.” He groaned, just thinking about how swollen your belly would get or how big your breasts would grow; the thought nearly made him bust then and there.

“Please,” You cry out, face muffled by the pillows as your tears stained the fabric under you. Your brain turns into mush as he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, making stars dance across your vision.

However, Jay didn’t like how quiet you had gotten, wanting to hear every little sound you made. So he removed one hand from your hip to trail up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake until he got to your head. He wrapped his hand in your hair before tugging upward, lifting your body and causing a loud whine to slip from your lips.

“J-Jay, ‘s too much. I can’t-'' You cried out, tears spilling from your eyes. Your body felt overwhelmingly warm as another orgasm crept up your spine, tightening the knot in the pit of your stomach.

“You can, baby, I know you can.” Jay’s voice turned soft, making your mind reel as your head fell back onto his shoulder while his hands fell back to your hips. 

Your vision was going hazy as you wrapped your hands around his forearm, trying to ground yourself. However, when Jay pressed down on the bulge in your lower tummy, that little band snapped, and you came all over his cock once more, silent cries falling from your lips as you went lightheaded.

“That’s my good girl; you did so good for me.” Jay cooed against your head, hand moving up to your sternum to hold you close to his body as his own orgasm hit, spilling deep into your womb. His thrust slowed until they came to a full stop inside, plugging his seed in your still tight hole.

Jay pressed soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, waiting until your breathing evened out and you opened your eyes. Once your eyes were open, he pressed a soft kiss against the skin of your cheek.

“Let’s get cleaned up so we can eat dinner.” He whispered softly, trailing kisses along your jaw. You inhaled deeply, trying to focus your vision before nodding, allowing him to take care of you like he normally does.

~

After you both cleaned up and ate dinner, you were sitting on the couch, cuddled up under a blanket, watching whatever movie you had agreed on. You lay against his chest, playing with his fingers that were wrapped around your waist.

“Princess,” His voice jolted you out of your thoughts, and you hummed, looking up at him. “Don’t ever be scared to talk to me about stuff like that, okay?” He told you, tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you further into him. “I want to make it enjoyable for both of us.”

You felt your chest tighten at the guilty look on his face. Turning around, you sat on your knees in front of him, cupping his face in your hands.

“I will. I promise, my love, and don’t feel guilty, please.” You pouted slightly before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Jay chuckled against your lips before closing the gap and sealing your lips in a gentle and sweet kiss.

The two of you then parted, and you laid on his chest, relishing in his warmth. Jay wrapped his arms around you before turning his attention back to the TV. Not quite tired yet, but once you fell asleep, he turned everything off and carried you to bed.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[windupaidoneus]

like. obviously he could tell something was off. i feel like for any wol with an affinity for magic (but especially white magic) it kind of makes sense. can't imagine the aether corruption would keep your magic the same, it'd have to have some impact... & hildegarde has researched aether before. for the necromancy. yknow the necromancy that he did. & tried his hardest to keep it ethical (ftr haurche agreed to it due to his ride or die sick & twisted devoted heart), hence all the researching. not only that but i mean obviously he immediately noticed sin eaters used the same magic he did. it was kind of a really easy tell

& the only people he knew in that world were either obviously hiding shit from him or just... gestures toward whatever thancred had going on in shb. the twins don't count bc hilde is a grown ass man he was never going to emotionally rely on them. once his aether's corruption started being bad enough that haurchefant's form became subtly (but not subtle enough for hilde to not notice) distorted he just... stopped. he could rely on haurchefant a little at first, manifesting him a physical form by feeding his soul his own aether, it was always temporary but it did offer him some measure of comfort. but his aether just HAD to not be able to contain the wardens' light! WOMP WOMP. & so he bade haurchefant adieu in a much less dramatic way than in the vault lmao. haurche would've wished to be summoned again "once his aether got better" surely, but hilde absolutely expected himself to be unsalvageable even before mt gulg. this was the actual final goodbye for him. & surely they'd meet again in the aetherial sea. maybe. maybe not. maybe his aether would be too corrupted to go there

& of course ardbert was there. but um. ardbert was also kinda in the midst of watching his world maybe die maybe not after having traversed it as a ghost for a hundred years unable to do anything to help. hildegarde was hardly gonna put much emotional weight on him. there were things they could talk about but they weren't That familiar with each other & had very different lived experiences, & hilde takes a while to trust people. it's not like they knew they were shards of the same ancient at the time lmao, they were kinda just stuck together because of circumstances... & it is kind of hard to look a ghost in the eye, the ghost of a hero who tried everything, & tell him you think you're not capable of saving his world, actually, & you're probably gonna destroy it even.

so well. who was left but emet-selch. very twisted for hildegarde to rely on him considering he very much wore the face of solus! as someone raised in the empire hilde both resented him for the horrors the empire committed (the same way he resents himself for participating in it. yknow. something he totally had a choice in. lol) & like... well... indoctrination doesnt really go away in a day. everyone's made to revere solus. regardless of whether he ever met the man personally (which he didn't), the emperor is a religious-like figurehead ; there's just going to be an odd sense of trust associated with him even if hilde knows all he's done is horrific.

that, & hilde felt emet might've been the most straightforward with him at the time (not quite true but not quite wrong either, he does willingly give away a loooot of information which shouldn't be nearly enough for hilde to put trust in him but he wasn't exactly the pinnacle of mental stability & good decisions at the time), alongside with um. well i hate to say it but emet being demeaning & rude toward him was validating to him #TERRIBLESELFESTEEM. it felt like he was finally being seen for what he was (& let's not even get into how horrible yet cathartic it felt for emet to call him "eater" post crown of the immaculate.. lol.....), which sure says a lot about the kind of mindset growing up in garlemald while visibly not 'pureblood' can instill in you. & emet also gets more personal. calls him nicknames even if condescending, shows him his humanity, even gets a little vulnerable with him.

& so i do believe the black magic knowledge hildegarde has at the time of shb comes from emet himself training him from time to time. in my beautiful canon. bc hilde asked, believing magic that is more inherently astrally aligned could help him quell the corruption. which does lead to more "bonding" if you can even call it that... & makes it easier for hilde to dissociate emet from solus in a sense? he sees more of emet beyond the character he embodies (which is also just part of canon. ppl who think emet acted as himself while playing the role of emperor are completely fucking stupid. but i digress), it feels less & less like there is a power imbalance between them (to hilde) (TO HILDE) (HILDEGAAAARDE THERE'S STILL A POWER IMBALANCE!!! HILDEGAAAAAAAAAARDE)

btw i started thinking about all this bc im drawing arr hildegarde you know it's bad when drawing arr makes you think about shb

i don't really know what the conclusion of this post is. misplaced trust because he felt he had no one else to rely on yeah, & ofc emet pulled at his heartstrings due to how emotional & empathetic he is (not to the point he ever considered actively switching sides or anything of the sort, but more than enough for him to desperately wish for another way that didn't lead to the ascian dying Again). & he did fully intend on going to the tempest alone. though it baffles me to think emet might've believed the wol capable of working out how to get to the tempest let alone amaurot on their own while being tormented by the horrors of light corruption. especially since he claims to expect them further into the transformation, at which point they would likely not be as... sapient. if i'm honest with you i genuinely fully believe emet was consciously orchestrating his own death there despite everything he says & does because there's no other way to make sense of everything that leads up to the dying gasp. oughhh i miss him

amaurot fucking sucks guys.

shb was so heavily the shitter for hilde thancred was there but clearly not emotionally available bc he never is but ESPECIALLY NOT then, had to stop doing necromancy on his one actual proper partner bc his aether corruption couldve ended up corrupting haurche's aether too, hancock was decidedly not in the first, shtola & urianger hiding shit from him the exarch never ever being straightforward on anything alisaie being traumatised every other day & having to keep supporting alphinaud to the best of his ability through everything despite it all. also trying & failing to shield ryne from bearing too much responsibility as the oracle of light. & having to save the world. while his own aether was eating at him in the form of the very magic he wielded best threatening to turn him into something hed always believed himself to be deep down (a monster. not a sin eater specifically.). And if all of that wasnt enough emet-selch was there. is it really any surprise he ended up emotionally relying on the antagonist the most out of all the characters in the expansion bc he really did not have anyone else when shit got bad

[cherrypickinns]

used to, not to

spencer thinks of all the ways he's gotten used to you when you're away from him.

spencer reid x reader words: 1.7k genre: fluff a/n: pulled this outta me for valentine's day bc i have fomo

Seven steps until he finds you again, or at least the memory of you in the smell of the same old bakery on his path to the office, familiar as he hears your voice,

“Okay, just one donut.” reverberating through his head, one hand subconsciously holding the satchel closer to him.

The doors of the office open on their own, and he repeats the daily routine of tight-lipped smiles to almost strangers, people he sees everyday but knows nothing about. Penelope pinches his cheeks just for a brief moment, along with her chipper “Good morning!” when he passes her.

He woke up in an empty bed today, an unhappy reminder of your departure last night. The flight had flown well into midnight because of the weather, and he was glad, at least he could talk to you before you went up into the sky, unreachable to him. 

You'd laughed at him when he said it to you,

“Baby, it's only 5 hours, you'll have me available right after you wake up.”

“I’m so glad you think I get 5 hours of sleep every night.”

He had laughed along with you, but truth to be told he was afraid. He'd gotten too used to being around you whenever he was home, you had a much agreeable schedule. 

So now he's in his bed, resting his back on the bed frame behind him, laptop resting on his legs, right after you cut the call.

The screen was already black, he'd been too busy talking to you to pay attention to anything. His phone screen lit up again, a last text with your name on it,

“Bye baby, don't miss me too much. Get some sleep. I love you.”

How cruel of you to send it when you won't even be able to see his answer for the next few hours.

A few more minutes spent in silence and staring at his reflection over the blank screen when he shakes his head to come into his senses, and busies himself in anything other than thoughts of you.

Morning.

Hurried hands and squinted eyes, scrolling through the only notifications he cares to read on his phone.

Two missed calls and seven texts. 

The texts are timed several minutes apart, updates on when you landed up until you reached your hotel and fell asleep.

“I'm glad you actually went to sleep. See you in my dreams.”

The text read like you, sweet and teasing till he smiles with an ache in his heart, of course this was the day Hotch didn't decide to call everyone 3 hours earlier than usual.

The day goes as it always does, mundane and routine. JJ states a case, Hotch tells everyone what to do and they get to the jet to discuss further details.

He spends his time inside offices and police stations, looking through files and clues that are informed to him over the phone, connecting pasts to present, turning his phone on and off for anything new, as if that would automatically generate a text from you.

Evening comes in, hues of orange red and blue as he walks home, the same donut shop, haunting him as he leaves it behind.

He thinks of calling you again, but he remembers you telling him to text you more, you can't always pick up his calls. He knows he shouldn’t, but it's a selfish wish to hear from you again.

So instead he takes a picture of the shop, and tells you he's thinking of you, and puts his phone back into his satchel.

The door is locked, another thing he was out of routine, he had gotten used to you being home before him. He'd gotten used to seeing you in your pyjamas, cozying up in your blanket watching your shows, or blasting music as you pretend the spatula is your mic. 

You'd both laughed a lot that day.

A bittersweet feeling envelops him again as enters through the door, and switches on the light, feeling heavy in the absence of your presence, an oxymoron, he thinks.

He goes into his bathroom to take a shower after a long day to be met with cold water. He yelps as the water makes contact with his skin when he realises that you always made sure the shower was ready whenever he came in, or you tried most days. He doesn't remember asking you to do this, only remembers thanking you the first time you did. 

He's glad you're not there to see the smile on his face, lovesick and pathetic whenever he thinks of you when you're not there.

He wonders if others notice it, but realises the stupidity of his question. He remembers the initial days of them dating, how Emily would shake her head whenever he jumped to take your call, how Penelope gushed about his adoration towards you, and the usual remarks of Derek teasing. 

The coffee machine just finished pouring his beverage into his cup when he hears his phone ring. He knows who it is, so he answers like it's meant for you,

“Hi, I missed you.”  

“It's only been 3 days, Spence.”

The clock hands have moved past two hours because neither of you had put down the call. He had read his book and you had done your work in silence, light typing sounds in the background.

He was glad he'd been away from home for a few days, it gave him space not to th ink of you inhabiting the space beside him, to not think of the absence of your arms around him, to not have another reason to make coffee in the morning. 

The leftover beverage stared at him whenever he moved his head, daring him to go pour himself another cup. He'd made too much, he was too a creature of habit, not used to you being gone.

Nights had a weird way of going by slowly when he didn't have you to talk to. Another bad habit of his, he realises, your voice.

He wouldn't dare tell you, or anyone if he's being honest, that he'd played your voice note more times than he'd admit. 

Pathetic, with that stupid grin on his face as you told him about your day. 

Hopeless, he thinks.

He doesn't mind being hopeless, especially if it's you.

Spencer doesn't dream often. He's glad, he has enough running thoughts every second he's awake. But he's also glad to have this dream, where your fingers are sliding down the slope of his nose, tracing the bones of his cheek, running through his hair.

He doesn't open his eyes, he wouldn't dare put a stop to any of it. The voice that chuckles sounds eerily like you, but he does open his eyes when he hears it say,

“Never seen you smile in your dreams.”

He's never woken up this fast, his heartbeat immediately higher than it should be this early in the morning, but he deems it a natural reaction to being around you. His eyes are desperate and searching, confused and the image makes you chuckle. He looks adorable like this, you think.

His voice is a near whisper, adapted to the quietness around him as he wakes up,

“What are you doing here? Weren't you coming tomorrow?”

You laugh again and it's like honey to him, “Got off early, thought I'd surprise you.”

He doesn't have much to say, too many different thoughts running through his brain so he buries his face at the crook of your neck. You smell like you, he’s missed that too and he has to stop himself from saying it out loud.

“I think I've gotten too used to your coffee, nothing else seems good anymore.”

“Everyone else says it's mediocre,” He chuckles, his breath warm on your skin, “You're the only person who likes it.” 

“Well, it's… you, I guess. I like it because I like you.”

This is the only thing about you he's never gotten used to. He doesn't know how to respond when you talk to him like this, words too sweet, too saccharine, words only meant as a declaration, as a compliment.

He has answers to most if not all questions you could ask him, he'd list facts about any topic you talk to him about, he'd tell you how amazing you are every day, because he's used to it.

He gives away parts for him to his job, to his friends, to his mother, but he's never had much practice receiving it. It's second nature, to let the person in front of him know that “Yes, I care about you.” in crystal clear words so that he never has to bear the hurt of the sentence that follows, “Please, stay.”

He'd asked Penelope once, what to do with compliments. She had told him, after many minutes of teasing, to thank them, or tell them you love them. He’s not sure how other people think, but the idea of just a thank you didn’t sit right with him. 

Neither of those options sounded good to him, but he had thanked her and left, not very satisfied with the answer. Instead, he does what he's gotten used to doing, telling you the new things he's learned when you haven't been around.

“I think I've gotten too used to listening to your voice before sleep. I played the voice note you sent me atleast 7 times.”

Pause.

“7 times?” He could hear the amusement in your voice.

“You should make a morning alarm, just for me. Then I could wake up to your voice.”

You're not quite sure how to respond to that. It's a common occurrence, your perplexity at his compliments. 

Who says that anyway?

You're used to responding to the usual compliments, you know what to say when someone tells you you're pretty, or that you look good in your outfit. 

How does one ever say anything in response that could ever live up to whatever he just asked of you?

So you don't. You find his hands and squeeze them to let him know you heard him, and say the first thing that you could think of to answer him, to calm your racing heart, 

“You don’t need one. I'll be here myself, promise.”

[criminalamnesia]

part 3 of this!!

also sorry guys please don’t hate me (im planning on writing an alternate version where reader lives!!)

it seems like things are finally starting to slow down. it’s been 10 minutes since the last red came in, and jack has been able to focus on the pinks and yellows.

it’s really starting to catch up to him now, as things de-escalate. the pain from his prosthesis, the dizziness from the blood drawing, and the confusion on where you were.

you had missed the whole thing. he wished you had been there— not because he wanted you to witness what happens in the wake of a mass tragedy, but because you were a comfort. a light in his darkness, a calming breeze on a summer morning.

but he’s relieved that your absence most likely means that you slept through the whole thing, which is a blessing in itself. the two of you were alike in that way— struggling with sleep.

jack would get home from a twelve hour night shift, adrenaline still coursing through his veins from close calls, his mind digging its claws into memories he wished he would forget. blood. battles. the dead. the ones he lost, the ones he couldn’t save— both on and off the battlefield.

he gave up on sleep a long time ago. he bought a police scanner, for christ’s sake. anything to keep his mind racing a mile a minute so he wouldn’t have to stop and really think.

you were different. you didn’t have memories of blown-off limbs or screaming men, but sleep still evaded you. you hadn’t told him why yet— this thing between the two of you was still so new. you fully hadn’t let your guard down yet, and he hadn’t either. and he didn’t push.

he wanted you to be sure about him. he didn’t think he could go through the heartbreak of losing a partner again. he especially didn’t think he could endure the pain of losing you.

“brother, you got a minute?” it’s robby breaking him from his stupor.

jack looks up from the patient he’s examined and nods, a frown tilting the corners of his lips down when he sees robby’s face.

jack knew he had his own demons— just like he did, just like you did. but god, he had never seen the man look so defeated.

“what’s up?” jack asks, following robby as he leads him toward the viewing room.

robby doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even look at until he closes the door to the viewing room behind them, and even then, it takes him a moment to lift his gaze from the floor.

“brother, what happened?” jack is asking, brows furrowed. “is it jake? is he alright?”

“kid’s fine,” robby replies, his arms crossing over his chest. jack doesn’t miss how his knuckles grow white as he digs his fingers into his forearms. “his girlfriend is, too. they’ll both make it.”

jack nods. “that’s good— glad to hear it.”

the room falls silent. tension emanates from robby, coming off of him in waves. jack shifts his weight onto his good foot, masking a wince at the pain.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we just gonna stand here? you’re weirding me out, man,” jack says, trying to lighten the mood, but robby’s expression doesn’t falter.

he takes a breath, lets it out, and meets jack’s eyes.

“it’s about y/n.”

“what about her?” jack is quick to ask. did you slip in during the chaos, and he just didn’t see you? did you call dana back?

“she…” robby starts, but falters, and jack loves him like a brother but so help him he wants to strangle the man right now.

“she’s dead.”

the words don’t register at first. it takes a minute for them to sink in, and even then, jack doesn’t understand.

“what?” he says, subconsciously shaking his head, as if disagreeing with robby’s prognosis. “what the hell are you talking about?”

“she was at the festival,” robby tells him, his words full of unspoken emotion. “she…she got shot. came in as a red.”

the room falls silent again. jack is still shaking his head. he takes a step forward, a hand waving in front of him as he speaks. “what the fuck do you mean? she never said anything— she was going home. she said she was going home.”

“I don’t know,” robby says. “I just— she came in. ellis brought her in. I—”

“ellis?”

it dawns on him then. ellis had called out for robby, obviously distressed. robby had gone over there, and that was the patient he’d tried so hard to save.

the one that jack had given him grief for.

“way past trauma protocol over there, brother.”

his words ring back to him.

“we use blood on the ones we can save.”

the army of nurses and doctors surrounding that patient. the gasps. the sobs. samira crying, dana leading her away.

it all makes sense, but it shouldn’t.

“brother,” robby is saying, and he’s breaking down. his voice cracks, tears are in his eyes, and he moves like he’s reaching for jack but thinks better of it at the last second. “I am so, so fucking sorry.”

jack doesn’t react for a moment. and then he’s suddenly surging forward, a finger in robby’s chest as he pushes his friend a step back.

“that was her? that fucking red?!” he’s starting to yell. robby doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“you fucking—” jacks reaches out and shoves him, sending the other attending stumbling back a few paces. “you fucking knew it was her! and you didn’t—”

“I didn’t have a choice!” robby interrupts, and jack gives a mirthless laugh.

“bullshit! that’s bullshit, robby! why didn’t you— why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped her— could’ve saved her!”

robby is the one shaking his head now. “no, brother, you couldn’t have.”

“I could’ve tried!”

he’s breathing heavy, his mind racing. memories of you, flashing before his eyes. his last conversation with you, just this fucking morning, as he had stolen a kiss from you before saying goodbye.

“I could’ve fucking tried, man!” and he’s breaking down now, his anger bleeding into defeat. into sadness and regret. “I could’ve tried! I could’ve— could’ve said something! Done something— I don’t know!”

robby’s cheeks glisten as the fluorescents catch his fallen tears. he’s still gripping his forearms, his gaze back on the ground when he speaks again.

“she didn’t want me to tell you.” his voice is barely a whisper.

“what?”

“she didn’t want me to tell you.” he repeats a little louder this time, and jack scoffs.

“she said we needed you,” robby pauses. “and she was right. we could not have saved as many people tonight without you, jack.”

jack’s eyes roll up to the ceiling, staring into the bright lights above as everything sinks in. his hands come up to run through his unruly curls, and he finds them shaking. he doesn’t understand. how could this happen— how could this be true? you were fine. you had gone home. you told him you’d see him tomorrow.

(later, he would come to realize that you were right. you had done the honorable thing, the selfless thing, and prioritized a hundred other lives over your own. he would have done the same thing— had tried to during his service.)

“but she…” he trails off. he looks back at robby. “is she with the others?”

robby nods. jack takes a deep breath. “I need to see her.”

he doesn’t say anything else. just turns around, opens the door, and walks out. no one tries to speak to him as he makes his way through the department. in his peripheral, he can see others staring at him. see others holding each other. hear muffled sobs and hushed condolences.

he stops in front of the door to the peds room, looking in through the window. multiple gurneys fill the room, all holding the body someone’s loved one. sheets are pulled over each one, most with blood staining them. he doesn’t know which one is yours. he doesn’t know if that makes this worse.

he steps inside, letting the door click shut behind him. it is just him and the dead, like so many times before. it never gets easier, and he was never naive enough to think it would.

but he had been naive enough to forget that you were human, too.

he approaches the gurney closest to the door, his hands slightly shaking as he reaches for the edge of the sheet. he pulls it back enough to see the face. it’s not you.

the next one isn’t you, either. or the next, or the next. out of the six gurneys in the room, yours is the one furthest from the door. perhaps robby had put you there on purpose— trying to further shield you from prying eyes. trying to hide you away in the back corner (even though a blanket obscured your body) incase jack happened to glance through the window during the madness.

he pulls the sheet back and instantly deflates. there is no denying that this is you. cold, pale, lifeless. no grin or smirk adorning your lips. no playful or serious glint in your eyes.

dead. you are dead. you are gone, and you are not coming back.

he lets out a shaky breath, his hands resting on either side of your head, holding him up as he sags over the bed. his head hangs low, his eyes squeezed shut. he wishes this was not reality. he wishes this was some fucked up dream.

it is not. when he opens his eyes, you will still be dead, and he will still be angry and lost and sad.

angry with himself for waiting so long to start something with you.

lost because you had helped pull him out of his darkness.

sad because he would never get to know you deeper, never get to explore things with you. never tell you he loves you and have you say it back. never hold your hand over dinner, or invite you to move in with him.

so many nevers.

he straightens up and sighs, hands reaching up to wipe away stray tears. he looks down at you and frowns. you had so much left to do. you would’ve been the best damn doctor this hospital had ever seen. definitely would’ve given him a run for his money.

“im sorry, beautiful,” he murmurs. he bends down, brushing his lips against the cold skin of your forehead.

“should’ve said this sooner, but…”

he lifts the sheet back over your head.

“I love you.”

he takes a week of leave, only because gloria mandates it.

he finds himself on the roof of the hospital for each of those seven nights, looking out over the city as he has so many times before. it’s different now.

your loss weighs heavy over him. he does not know how to cope with this— how to deal with losing something he never really had.

his therapist helps a little. keeping busy does, too. but the ache of your loss still lingers, and he doubts it will ever fully go away.

it’s something he’ll learn to live with, just like the loss of his first wife, and just like the loss of so many friends during his service. he will make room for you. he will remember you. he will mourn you and what could’ve been.

and he will keep going, because if he stops, he will join you.

“feels like you get a little closer to the edge every time I find you up here.”

robby. jack hears the crunch of gravel under the other man’s shoes, but he doesn’t turn around. it’s night six of his seven day leave— and he’s itching to be back in the ED.

“still haven’t jumped, though.”

“always a bright side.”

the words are intended to lighten the mood, but they do not.

jack feels, rather than sees, robby slip under the guard railing and sidle up beside him. the two don’t speak for a moment. sirens blare below. lights flash in the distance. the sun will rise soon.

“you sure you don’t need more time off?” robby asks, his voice rough as if dragged through the dirt. he doesn’t look much better off, with dark circles under his eyes and cuts in the crescent shapes of fingernails lining his forearms.

“give me more time off and next time you find me up here, I’ll be jumping.”

robby huffs a laugh, but there’s no real humor behind it. “as long as it’s not on my shift.”

a beat of silence. “seriously, man. whatever you need. im here for you.”

jack nods. he knows. the pair haven’t spoken much since the day of pitt fest, and truthfully, jack doesn’t know how to look him right now. he doesn’t hate him, but there’s a part of him that hates what he did. that he kept your arrival a secret, that he failed to save you.

but it isn’t robby’s fault. he tried. jack knows that.

but sadness and anger are devious, and sometimes he doesn’t quite trust himself to know what’s right.

“just need to get back to work. I can’t— I can’t sit still. can’t sleep, can’t think. it’s too much.”

robby doesn’t respond. jack takes a breath before starting again.

“my therapist says i should take some more time, but i can’t. I need to do something. need to be useful to someone. she says it’s deflecting— I know it is. I know.”

another breath.

“but it’s what I need. if I spend one more day in my apartment, im going to go fucking crazy.”

“thank god you’ll be back tomorrow night,” robby says. jack nods.

“can’t have you going crazy. we need you, brother.” robby places a hand on jack’s shoulder. the words hurt.

everything hurts. everything always hurts. the pain dulls, but never dissipates.

but the people here— they make it better. they help him through. the patients. the nurses. the residents. the doctors.

robby.

jack nods. he doesn’t know what to say, but he hopes that robby knows that he isn’t angry at him. that he doesn’t blame him for what happened to you.

he just hopes that robby isn’t angry at himself.

“better get going before gloria finds out im on hospital grounds,” jack grumbles, and robby nods, his hand sliding from the other man’s shoulder.

the pair slip back under the railing, falling into step as they make their way to the stairs.

“see you tonight, brother,” robby says as the pair reach the ED. jack nods.

“see you tonight.”

and as he walks toward the waiting room, he sees that a plaque has been added to the “frontline heroes” wall. he stops, and his eyes meet yours as he stares at the photo of you.

his lips quirk up in a half-hearted smile, and now he knows why he still comes back to this place. why he’ll keep coming back.

for you.

[crownofgildedlilies]

fake dating

pairing: midoriya x reader

summary: Izuku really needs a favor.

wc: 2.8k

event masterlist

You probably should have just said no. 

Though it was so incredibly hard to deny Izuku of anything, it wasn’t impossible. Difficult beyond belief, but not impossible. You only had yourself to blame, really, when you agreed to his request. You even had a few days to back out, but a part of you just couldn’t get yourself to let him down. 

But really, you wished you didn’t sign up to pretend to be Izuku’s partner when all you wanted was for it to be real. 

“Are you ready?”

No, you weren’t, but you couldn’t exactly tell Izuku the truth as you stood outside his family home, second away from attempting to convince everyone that you were dating. The very thought made you flush. 

“Wait, hold on,” You hesitated, grabbing his arm gently to stop him from opening the doorway. He followed your direction immediately, checking you once over to make sure you were alright. Just another reason why you were hopelessly in love with your friend—he was just so good. “Do you remember the backstory?”

“Yeah, do you? I wrote it all down if you need to review.” He nodded, and the fact that he had taken notes on your fake relationship made a grin form on your lips. 

“No, I’m good. It’s just…” You trailed off, dropping your gaze from him in an effort to make the heat in your cheeks disappear. “Will your mom be suspicious if we aren’t physically affectionate? We never really talked about that.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched the color rise up Izuku’s neck and take over his features. 

“I don’t think so? W-we could hold hands, but only if you want!” He hurried to ensure you were comfortable, just like he had from the moment his plan was brought up. He was just as nervous as you were, only you were doing a better job at hiding it. 

Barely. 

“Okay, yeah.” You agreed, sliding the hand that was holding his arm down until it wrapped around his own. You could feel the raised skin from his scars under the pads of your fingers. Subconsciously, you brushed your thumb over the worst of the damage on the back of his hand. 

“S-sorry about my scars. I know they’re weird.” He apologized, not able to look at you. Frowning, you squeezed his hand once in silent reprimand. He had led you to the front door and was seconds away from letting you into his childhood home, but you couldn’t let him continue on thinking you thought his scars were weird. 

“They’re not.” You murmured as he pushed the door open, sounds and smells of dinner cooking alongside lively conversation washed over the two of you and almost drowned out your words. “I don’t think so, at least.” 

True to his nature, Izuku flushed at your words, but was kept from responding as none other than the Inko Midoriya raced towards the sound of the front door opening to sweep her son up into a massive hug. Izuku didn’t let go of your hand as he hugged his mother back, an action you both didn’t miss and felt incredibly endeared by. 

“Mom,” Izuku started, gesturing towards you with his free hand when he finally let his mother go. “This is—”

“I know who this is.” Inko interrupted, pulling you into a hug just as tight as the one meant for your son. Instantly, you felt a wave of guilt for lying to this woman about the truth of your relationship with her son. Izuku hadn’t said anything about it, but you knew that you’d have to fake break up after the dinner. You couldn’t exactly fake date forever. “You’ve talked about them for weeks! I’m so glad to finally meet you, dear. I’ve been begging Izuku to bring you over.”

“Mom,”

“I’m glad I could make it,” Overtop Izuku’s whine, you managed to force the words out despite how flustered you were at discovering Izuku—apparently—talked about you to his mother. So much so, that she had been asking about meeting you. 

You were so screwed. 

“The food’s almost ready. Everyone is in the other room.” Inko started herding you and Izuku towards the sound of chattering. He kept his hand clasped around yours, even as his mother nudged him around, but you couldn’t help but realize that he was doing everything in his power to avoid looking directly at you. 

Was he embarrassed? The whole point of the evening was to pretend that the two of you were dating to get his mother to give him some space on the matter, so why would he care that she believed your ruse? 

“Go socialize, you two!” Inko gave you one final push into the sitting room, already dotted with Izuku’s various aunties and other relatives. You hadn’t expected to recognize anyone, which is why you were totally surprised when you met a set of very familiar red eyes. 

“No shit. You actually went through with it.” 

“Kacchan!” Izuku’s panicked voice filled the silence left by Bakugou’s crude and cryptic comment. All of the aunties in the room paused to glare at him, and Bakugou’s mother cuffed the back of his head in reprimand. 

This was bad. Bakugou was the only one who knew about your crush on Izuku. It wasn’t that you had told him, but more so that he confronted you about your feelings one sparring session and you panicked too fast to deny it. Since he was the only one who knew, you had thought it was safe to mention your fake dating plan to him.

Now, you were certain you were going to regret it. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, though you knew that the Bakugous and Mrs. Midoriya had been friends since the boys were in preschool. You just didn’t know why he had to be there. If it had been a different situation, you would have laughed at the sight of Bakugou sitting on Mrs. Midoriya’s small couch with neighborhood aunties surrounding him on all sides. But he was grinning far too smugly for you to consider the possibility that he would keep your secret. 

“I was invited,” Bakugou shrugged nonchalantly, then dropped his attention down to your hand wrapped around Izuku’s, and you just knew he was going to make some teasing comment. It was bad enough he taunted you in private over your crush on damn Deku, but you knew you were in serious trouble in front of a crowd. “What are you doing here?”

You grit your teeth at the smug asshole, face burning so incredibly bright red. From the corner of your eye, you knew Izuku was in a similar state. 

“I’m Izuku’s date,” You explained what he already knew. It was hard enough to pretend to date Izuku to begin with, but now to do it all with Bakugou watching?

“Yeah, my date.” Izuku nodded. From the expression on his face, you knew he was thinking something similar to you. He was even closer to Bakugou than you were. 

Bakugou smirked, but after a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged and went back to whatever conversation he had previously been in before your arrival. As he dropped the topic, you let out a breath you had been holding in due to nerves. 

“That was close,” You murmured in Izuku’s ear as he led you across the room to an empty seat. 

“Sorry,” He whispered back, close enough that you felt his breath brush against the shell of your ear. Shivering, you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. “I kinda forgot that Kacchan would be here.” 

“That’s alright,” You assured him, even though the way your heart was pounding in your chest was absolutely not alright. “I think he’s playing along for now.” 

A truce, it would seem. 

You should have known you couldn’t trust Bakugou when it came to matters of teasing Izuku. 

At the dinner table, you sat beside Izuku, his hand still diligently holding yours. Of course, Bakugou had seated himself across from Izuku, shooting the two of you knowing, taunting looks as you ate. It was hard to answer Mrs. Midoriya’s questions about yourself or follow the conversations around the table when you were just waiting for Bakugou to start something. 

“How long have you been together, again?” Inko asked politely as she served more of the food she had made onto your plate. You smiled graciously at her, trying to remember the story you and Izuku had created. 

“A month.” You felt so guilty for lying, but Izuku had asked you for a favor and you’d agreed. 

Though, it felt less and less like a fake date when Izuku refused to let go of your hand for a moment. Under the table, your fingers were threaded together and resting in your lap.

“Uh huh. And how’d you get together?” Bakugou cut in, shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned forward, interested in the conversation about your relationship. 

“Katsuki, you’re being rude.” His mother chastised, but you felt a sudden need to rise to Bakugou’s challenge. If you were going to fake date Izuku, then you were going to do it right. 

“Izuku just asked me when we were hanging out one day.” You countered with a newfound bravery. It wasn’t exactly a lie—you had been hanging out with Izuku when he asked you to be his date, only with the caveat that it was fake. Bakugou grinned at you playing into his game, leaning forward on his elbows. 

“Yeah, Kacchan, you know.” Izuku stammered to back you up, and you smiled softly at him, brushing your thumb over his scarred knuckles once more under the table. 

“What did he say, exactly?” Bakugou pushed for details, smirking. 

“Why do you want to know?” Your face scrunched in confusion. It seemed more like he genuinely wanted to know instead of just teasing the two of you.

“Curious,” Bakugou shrugged, though his attention suddenly was fixed on Izuku, who was flushed bright red. “What’d ya say, Deku? Anything dramatic when ya asked ‘em out?”

You turned to face Izuku with a confused frown. It seemed like Bakugou was having a separate conversation with Izuku right in front of you. 

“Oh, leave them alone, Katsuki!” Mrs. Bakugou ordered, and you realized exactly who he got his temper from. Scowling, Bakugou turned his focus from you and Izuku to argue with his mother. Despite your confusion, you managed to steal a glimpse at Izuku and found him blushing red and pushing food around his plate as if he was deep in thought. 

Your secret was safe, for now.

Somehow, you made it through dinner without further comments from Bakugou, and before you knew it, Izuku was walking you home. 

“I think it went well.” You hummed, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the two of you the moment his front door shut. His hand had slipped from yours once the night was over, and with it went any disbelief about what the night had been about. “I’m sorry that I probably won’t get to see your mother again.”

You really were upset about it. Inko had been an absolute delight, and you knew exactly where Izuku had gotten all his sweetness from. But at the mention of your inevitable fake breakup, Izuku tensed from beside you, pausing on the sidewalk outside his building. 

“About that…” Izuku muttered, trailing off in nerves. You frowned at him in curiosity, having to fight the newly developed urge to hold his hand. How were you supposed to go back to normal after a night of pretending everything you wanted was real? “I, uh, actually meant for this to be real.”

“What?” Your mind went blank as you tried to process what he said. It wasn’t out of character for him to suddenly drop information on you out of nowhere, but never had it been something so serious as his possible feelings for you. 

“When I asked you to be my date tonight.” He clarified, voice wavering. “I meant for real.”

You blinked slowly at him, barely able to keep your jaw from dropping in shock. How hadn’t you realized? When he asked you, you had just assumed he meant fake dating, and he had never corrected you. But to know that he meant it as a real, actual date? You couldn’t believe it. 

“Why did you let me think you meant to pretend?” Shock was the only emotion evident on your face as you watched Izuku’s face flush at your admonishment. 

“Because I didn’t want to push my luck! Plus I thought it might have been your way of letting me down easy. But Kacchan kept teasing, and I thought maybe he knew something I didn’t. And I don’t know, I’m really nervous right now. Please say something. Anything, really—”

“Izuku Midoriya.” You interrupted his rambling with a call of his full name, and it works a little too well, getting him to stop talking at the cost of making him go pale and freeze with wide eyes.

“Oh no.”

“You’re adorable.” Recovering from your shock, you grinned, reaching out to wrap your hand around his like you wanted to from the start. Holding his between both of your own, you made sure to brush your thumbs over his scars he had said thought made him weird earlier in the evening. 

“Oh?” 

“Ask me again.” You encouraged him, a smile gracing your lips as you watched every expression that washed over his features. 

“What?” Ever oblivious to matters of the heart, his face twisted in confusion. “But the dinner is over already.”

“Izuku.” You tugged on his hand, bringing him half a step closer to you. “Ask me again.”

It seemed to dawn on him what you meant, and a blush bloomed across his face while he gathered his courage. 

“Will you be my date to my mom’s holiday dinner party?”

“Of course I will.” You giggled, knowing it was a little ridiculous that you were making him ask you again but unable to go without setting things right. You had been too oblivious to know what he meant before, but now you could fix it. 

“Really?” He asked, eyes wide, as if you weren’t holding his hand between your own. 

“If you want me to.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

“Yeah.” Izuku nodded quickly, clearly excited. “Yeah, I really do. For real, this time.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully at his teasing jab. You were probably never going to be able to live down your misunderstanding. 

You tugged his hand once more until he was so close you had to tilt your chin up to face him. With your sudden proximity, his teasing tone vanished, replaced by one of thinly veiled nervousness. A sweetheart.

“Do you kiss on the first date?” You asked, voice innocent despite the question. Izuku’s face went red, and you could have sworn you heard him audibly swallow.

“I’m trying very hard to be cool about this, but I can’t lie to you. I’ve never been on a first date.”

Oh, now that you knew he wanted you, you were going to eat him alive.

“Do you want to kiss on the first date?” Rephrasing your question, you tilted your head slightly to the side to watch his reaction. 

“Yeah.” 

Gently, you set a hand on his cheek to guide his face closer to yours, taking the lead to press your lips against his in a short, sweet kiss. His lips were slightly chapped from the cold and how often he chewed on them, but you enjoyed the way he burned against you all the same. 

“Did the nerd finally ask you for real?”

At the sound of Bakugou’s voice, you jerked away from Izuku. With the adrenaline of Izuku’s confession, and then your kiss, you had forgotten you were only standing outside the building he lived in. It was a miracle that only Bakugou had caught you.

“Kacchan! I didn’t see you there!” Izuku, as red as ever, greeted your mutual friend with a renewed energy he hadn’t possessed when he’d been taunted with your fake date. Now that you had cleared the air about your intentions, his confidence had come back.

And apparently ruined all of Bakugou’s fun.  

“I was just leaving.” The blond rolled his eyes, shoving past the two of you with a frown and his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Watching him disappear down the sidewalk, you narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. 

“Did he know this whole time?” You asked Izuku. You knew you had confided in Bakugou about how you felt, and if Izuku had done the same, then he had known the entire time and could have cleared the air. 

“I… think so.”

“Oh, I’m going to kill him.”

if it’s not painfully obvious, this isn’t proofread

also i feel like i could have done so much better

[daylighted]

HEY, JUDE ㅤ₊ ㅤ˚ ㅤ✧ ㅤ ﾟ ㅤ. ㅤ☾

☽ㅤdetails, or, dean never expected to have a family of his own, and his expectations hold true when all that becomes of it is a baby who looks identical to you.

☽ㅤincludes, single dad!dean, girl dad!dean, reader exists in mentions, self deprecation, grief, blood mentions, death mentions, i am so sorry

word count: 7.1k

 baby girl.

“hey, jude,” he murmurs softly into his baby girl’s ear, cradling the fussing, teary eyed infant to his chest. she was still so little — so fucking little — but he wasn’t sure when being little shifted from something to coo over to something to fuss over. and he doesn’t have much comparison to go off of, over what is too small, not when everything shrinks in the expanse of his biceps.

it is not the first time he wishes you were still around, but instead another tack on the growing list. 

he is so fucking useless without you. he really is. and it only hits him now, in the dead of night when his little girl won’t stop crying like something aches or something’s wrong, and he’s completely at a loss on how to fix it. 

he couldn’t fix losing you; and now he can’t fix her. he’s all she’s got left, and he’s failing her. 

those thoughts are a plague. they fester. they gnaw on his skin and feast on his blood and whittle his bones. and he is so sick, and he is so lost, that he couldn’t find his way to a cure if he tried. 

jude is wailing now, and he’s seconds from joining her. he doesn’t know, still, the difference in a baby’s cries. he did not nurse her for nine months in his belly, like you did; the internal guidebook on fatherhood was not automatically installed into him when she was brought out to be cradled by you that very first time. his was a manual installation, and it was still, seven months in, fucking lagging. 

“m’sorry, jude,” he whispers into the soft hair gracing the top of her head. it’s the same color as yours. the only thing she inherited from him was his eyes, and he hates looking into them and seeing every failure he’d made so far reflected back at him. 

all he can do is rock her, until she stops her fussing or she doesn’t, and then he can switch tactics. he doesn’t think often about the military-sort of childhood that he was raised in, but it comes up every time in times like this, when his methods of defense present themselves in tactics. 

the cradling tactic: for when jude wailed like she was grieving, like she’d sobbed so hard in her dreams that it broke into real life. there was no way that little girl remembered your face, but sometimes he thought that she missed your voice, with the way his never seemed to soothe her in times like this. 

the food tactic: for when it was clear that the cradling tactic didn’t work. sometimes her lips opened and closed like a fish’s, and he could skip the first step entirely and go to this one. maybe he wasn’t entirely useless as a father, after all, if he subconsciously knew this little tell of hers. he’d never let himself think so kindly of himself for long, though.

the diaper tactic: no explanation needed. this one he could always tell when was necessary. sometimes, it’d linger like the plague in his blood, and then he’d had to dive into, 

the bath tactic: which jude hated. god, she fucking hated baths, almost like she could tell that warmth was the thing that took you from the both of them. that’s why sometimes, even when it felt awful, he let her cry while he sat idly in the rocking chair beside her crib. didn’t want to stress her out more with his lack of coherency when it came to what she needed — and that little fact, that he thought it upset her more sometimes when he tried to be the thing to fill the missing, bleeding wound that was you. 

in his arms as he rocked her, jude’s little mouth opened and closed. her cries were still ear piercing and raw, but at least he could do something about it now. he nearly sighs in relief the moment that she gives him that little hint, like she can tell, in her infancy, that he was incapable of this on his own. 

she’d moved away from bottles long before, and upgraded to the wonderful world of mashed vegetables and fruits. though, she hated new flavors. he thought it was a game, in a way; always making him have the first tiny spoonful of pureed asparagus. he felt like a bodyguard in moments like those, testing if the princess’s food was poisoned before she got a taste.

but it was late, and she didn’t need any of the cereals that they’d been working on, too — though, he really would never have argued with stealing a couple or a couple dozen of those little strawberry banana things. 

and she was spoiled, despite all of his worries that he was failing her. she’d get to stay in his arms while she ate, instead of the high chair he should have been adjusting her to. 

oh well. add it to the tallied list on how he was fucking up his — your — little girl. he could take it.

“feelin’ midnight snacky, is that it?” he asks, so softly, always so softly like any increase to his volume will shatter her. honestly, he thought that she was the strongest person he’d ever met, and she wasn’t even a year old yet. she could only grow up to impress him — and ruin him, with how she was already turning into a mini you. 

she still cried, because she always cried until her problem was fixed in its entirety, but the sobs had broken and given way to sniffles and unintelligible noises that sounded too close to mama for his comfort. 

mama, mama, mama. shit— how did he tell her that he missed her, too? how does someone baby-talk down the fact that she was dead, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing left anymore without her? 

well, except for jude, of course. and what a stark reminder that is, that she’s all he has left of you. 

tonight’s snack was mashed carrots. the last one of that flavor, because it was jude’s favorite. had to be because it was such a stark color, the color of the deepest sunsets, one of the things that you loved the most. 

he pops the top with one hand, the other still cradling this tiny thing that was his daughter to his chest. the metal lid clatters to the ground, and he winces, thinking that the noise is only going to startle and break his daughter’s heart more. but to his surprise, as he dips his hand into the drawer of silverware, now mostly full of those baby sized spoons with zoo animals on the handles, jude is silent.

not just silent, but curious. dean knows the curious look, even if he doesn’t know how to differentiate most of her expressions still. it’s because it’s the same as yours used to be. lips parted, eyes wide, darting around. it’s more devastating on jude, though, because she has the longest eyelashes, and the smallest little lips, so small he can hear every breath she draws in as she searches for what captured her attention. 

dean smiles to himself. it’s these moments where he doesn’t feel quite so much like a terrible father; when his little girl has stopped wailing, and looks at him for every answer he might have.

maybe by the time she’s grown, he’ll have some of those answers.

 toddler.

“hey, jude,” dean snaps his fingers to capture jude’s attention, his expression flat and exasperated at once, “get the remote out of your chompers, alright? don’t know where all it’s been.” 

really, he doesn’t know. at one point or another: between the couch cushions, underneath the rocking chair cushion — every damn cushion, really, the dusty floor, the clean floor. hell, it’d probably been in his mouth before, when his hands were too occupied with a beer and a plate. wouldn’t put it past him. 

jude is becoming a sassy little thing. she does specifically what he tells her not to, even at her ripe age of four, when she’s just barely beginning to figure out she’s a person. 

you didn’t even back talk him this much, when you were around, which leaves the answers for his many internal, baffled questions to be that jude had gotten it from him.

karma always does get its kiss, eventually. its kiss was in the form of a toddler with his attitude, his eyes, and your face.

she looked so much like you now. 

her little button nose was filling out in the shape of yours, her eyes were as big as yours, and she was so little compared to him, just like you’d been. she was in the in-between stage of her growing, small chubby limbs that made her whine every night, thumb still in her mouth because he can’t, can’t, bring himself to stop that little habit.

if dean could keep her this little and innocent forever, he would. fuck, he would. it was selfish, to want to preserve this tiny little girl in a box and keep her on his shelves, but the thought of watching her grow into a version of you…

it was easier, now, that a few years had passed. never easy, and never simple, but easier. his feelings were still complex, still bottled up deep within him and ignored, where the oddest things sometimes could send him into a spiral. sam would come, pick up his pieces and keep him from doing something stupid, and the cycle of denial would repeat.

but every day, dean swore he saw more of you in her. if it wasn’t the fact she was a mini you, it was the way she acted. hence the attitude — which, realistically, was all his own, but why would he ever vocalize that out loud?

jude stomps her bare foot on the hardwood, her little face scrunched up with so much volition you’d think he beheaded all of her teddy bears, and she was coming to enact revenge on him for it. “why?” 

oh, you used to do that too. that angry why at him instead of just trusting that whatever he said was with good intentions, or to the best of his knowledge, fact. 

dean stands in front of her at his towering height, staring down at this knee-height little girl with bows in her hair, and a little sundress that she’d fought and fought him about putting on. it’s a battle of centuries. 

jude breaks first. another foot stomp. her hand holding the remote is raising suspiciously slowly back to her mouth. 

“juliet.” dean tries to make his voice sound stern and commanding but he can never quite manage it with his little girl. that’s his princess, alright? “don’t make me go get mr. bear bear.” 

that used to get her. it used to get her so bad that she’d cry, thinking he was going to send mr. bear bear packing. that’s probably why he has such a hard time scolding jude — because any time he did, she’d start bawling. it had to be a manipulation tactic. 

at least he was aware of it, even if he fell for it everytime. 

“mr. bear bear isn’t talkin’ t’you.” 

dean bristles. “and what does mr. bear bear think i did this time, huh? is he mad i made you brush your teeth?”

it’s ridiculous, standing in the middle of his living room, having a cowboy showdown with his four year old daughter about a stuffed animal named mr. bear bear. but that’s parenthood, he guesses.

her arms cross firmly over her chest. in this moment, and this moment alone, he sees himself in her. he’s standing just like that too. “he says,” she starts, interrupted by a hiccup that discredits all of his arguments, because he’s a goner. already wants to swoop her into his arms and apologize to her. “he says you make things up.” 

vague. and true. but how does mr. bear bear know this? frankly, none of his business, if you asked dean.

 “what’s he sayin’ i’m lyin’ about?” dean shoots back, his head tilting up in that cocky little sneer that jude loves. good cop, bad cop is her favorite game to play with him, even though her version of a good cop includes smashing her toy cars into his leg to make him confess. it works, though. his bruises prove it.

as if on cue, jude’s giggling up a storm, interrupted only by bursts of her hiccups. “lyin’ about mommy.” 

the floor drops out from beneath him. he feels nauseous. he feared this day coming and here it was. the first time she brought you up, too much intelligence in that little brain of hers, to know that it just wasn’t common to not have a mommy alongside your bad cop daddy.

he keeps a brave face, though. bad cops don’t break persona the first time something detrimental gets dropped into their lap. “go bring ‘im out here. lemme give him a talkin’ to, too.” 

she sprints off, so steady on her little feet now that it adds to the ache in his chest. she was getting so much bigger, and you weren’t here to see it. maybe you were looking down, watching as her tiny form grew taller and stronger. he could hope, couldn’t he? 

jude returns moments later, soft brown teddy bear in her arms. his little bowtie is a mockery of him, if what jude says that he says is true.

in his heart, he knows that all of the things that the bear tells her are her own thoughts, manifesting in a gentler form so that it doesn’t hurt her as badly when they do. it breaks his heart. so little, and she’s already gotten a defense mechanism in place.

dean kneels down to be eye level with jude, gingerly plucking mr. bear bear out of her small fingers. “a certain pretty princess told me you were mad at me, sir,” he says, voice lowered like it was just him and this fucking bear, ear forever wet from jude’s gnawing, even though he’d thought she’d gotten over that fixation. he’ll feel like an idiot for having a serious, talk-it-out conversation later with his daughter’s teddy bear, but for now, her feelings are more important to him. always. “i’ll be honest, bear bear, i have been keeping things from the pretty princess. your feelings are very valid.” 

he’s quoting things from his therapist, now. to a teddy bear. they don’t tell you a thing about parenthood before you get into it, but they certainly don’t tell you this.

“i just didn’t want her to think that it was her fault, not at all, about what happened to her mommy. surely you understand. you and i, we keep our pretty princess safe, don’t we?” he even pauses for an answer that won’t come, his eyes flicking over to his little girl, her folded hands in front of her as she patiently waits. she’s so sweet that it kills him. “mama didn’t go away on a business trip, you’re right. mama died, very tragically, while protecting our pretty princess. and it’s not her fault, and not our girl’s, either.” 

there’s a little sniffle from behind the bear in his hands, and he looks up to see jude, eyes welled and lip wobbly in that way that makes his heart ache. just like when she was a baby, when her screams shattered his heart to pieces, but worse, because her tears were silent now, like she was trying to soothe it all away herself.

she didn’t have to. that’s why he was there. dean hands her back the bear, and in that same movement, scoops her into his arms in a tight embrace. instantly, she falls apart at the seams, her shoulders shaking as the stuffing pours from the buttons of her eyes. 

“she would have loved you,” he whispers into the top of her head, smoothing out the tangly strands with his fingers. you really would have loved her, too. she humbled him — you humbled him. she broke his heart, you broke his heart. 

maybe she’d forgive him one day, for letting something happen to you when he promised he wouldn’t, when he swore up and down that you were it for him, that you wouldn’t—

it’s too much. even when dean feels like he’s getting better with this grief thing, he can’t move past it. not when there’s a smaller you attached to his hip, waiting for him to hang the world for her and protect her, too. 

he can only hope that he gets it right this time.

 child.

“hey! jude!” dean stands out on the sidewalk before the elementary school, seeing jude off on her first day of third grade. in his hands is her little lunchbox, ever forgotten in her excitement.

every single first day, dean cries. he’s not ashamed of it, either. it’s tough seeing his little girl run off into the real world on her own, and being the one to see her off, all on his lonesome. 

it wasn’t like the single moms didn’t try to catch his attention, either. they constantly did. it was that he preferred the isolation over the company every time. how could anyone hold a candle to you? 

jude glances over her shoulder, her long hair flipping in the process, catching in the wind. he has to bite back a sigh. the braid’s already loose, the strands already spilling out of it, tangling in the wind. 

her little feet stomp back toward him, splashing in the remnants of last night’s rain in the concrete,and dean wants to tell her to slow down. wants to tell her to stop time, stay exactly like this. young, small, forever protected by him. just to prove to himself that he could protect something, and that he’d never have to see her hurt. 

“thanks, daddy!” she lisps through her wide, toothy grin. she’s got the cutest gap tooth right now from losing one of her front teeth in a burger a few days ago, the pink gums peeking from between her middle teeth making him smile every single time he saw it. she was never embarrassed, or shy, about that smile, either. 

her hand is outstretched for the lunchbox. pink and purple and glittery, and one of the most expensive at the store. anything for his jude, though. 

dean keeps it back from her, his chin tilting up in mock sternness. “what do we do if people are mean to us?” he asks in a reminder of their rules. he had a couple of them that he never let up on. 

“kick their ass,” jude says, her fingers clapping against her palm in a gesture to get her box. “ass. ass?” each attempt comes out more lispy, her face contorting in her irritation. “kick their ass.” 

dean cackles, inching the lunchbox slightly closer. “very good, baby girl,” he says with a nod, “now what do we do if someone puts their hand on us?” 

“break their fuckin’ fingers,” jude grins, her eyes glimmering. ever since she found out that her dad’s rules had bad words in them, she was as mischievous as ever about saying them. 

dean’s eyebrows raise. “how?” 

her little hand — so big now, though, it makes his heart clench in his chest — grasps his fingers and pulls back, and once his hand is as bent as her strength can manage, she twists. 

dean lets out a nervous chuckle, tugging his hand free from her light grip. “whoa, princess. no breakin’ daddy’s fingers, alright?” he flexes his fingers, reaching out to grab her hand and kiss her tiny knuckles. 

she was nowhere near close to hurting him. but who was he to ever crush his little girl’s spirits? he couldn’t. he couldn’t. 

jude’s evil grin only widens, though. “maybe someone will try me t’day and i’ll get t’break their fingers!” 

“you should not be wishing for that,” dean says, even though his heart swells in the process. jude may have been an identical version of you, but the longer she spent around him, the more parts of him shined through. god, he loved her so much. “last rule?” 

jude’s expression softens. her milky green eyes glisten with unshed tears, and this is the part that always ruins him, that brings him to his knees. “hug my daddy goodbye, always.” 

“almost forgot this time,” he mumbles, his voice more strained than it should be after having done this four years now. he kneels, holding open his arms, the lunchbox still dangling in his fingers. 

she was growing up too fast. getting so independent so fast. jude practically jumps into his arms, his grip tight around her little frame as hers is around his neck. 

he doesn’t want to let go. letting go always feels like giving her away to someone else, and he can’t. she’s all that’s left of you, and he’s selfish, and he doesn’t want anyone else to love his little girl as much as he does. 

“can i tell you a secret?” she whispers in his ear, and he nods into her hair, taking the liberty to reach up and tug the hairtie out of the ends. it would get lost somewhere in that school if he didn’t now, and the purple ones were her favorite. couldn’t lose them on his watch. 

“i tell mommy goodbye, too,” jude says, lifting her head to look dean in the eyes. her look was so earnest, so warm and raw, that dean’s eyes got glassier than they already were. 

“yeah?” dean asks, clearing his throat. the last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of his kid. he was a tough guy, took all of the hits that life tried to deliver to her, was covered in bruises and scars all over the skin she loved to cling to. “mommy ever say anything back?” 

she nods, picking at a thread on her shirt. “she says she’s always watching.” 

how weak did it make him to nearly buckle under that quiet admission? how pathetic was he that any mention of you, even in his daughter’s big imagination, had him clinging to those thoughts, using them as ways to self soothe the aching hole that you left in his soul? 

dean reaches up to pinch her cheek between his two fingers, handing her the lunchbox, finally. “go on, pretty princess. don’t want you to be late.” 

didn’t want her to see him cry, either. he was clinging to the last shreds of his stability, losing grip by the second.

“bye bye, daddy!” jude hugs him one last time as he stands, clinging to his knee for a second before turning on her heel and sprinting away. 

he watches. watches as her little self disappears into the big front doors of lawrence elementary. watches until she’s long gone, and straggling parents running late drop off their kids that sprint away without a goodbye hug, or a promise that their mommy’s always watching them when dean can’t. 

dean’s eyes flick up to the sky, like maybe he can see you there in between the clouds. the sun looks a little brighter today. maybe it’s you, seeing jude off, too.

“thanks,” he whispers, nodding once to you. he watches, then, too. for any sign in the sky that you heard him — a twitch in the clouds, a flicker in the sunbeams pouring down on the concrete. but everything is still.

☽ ₊ ㅤ˚ ㅤ✧ ㅤ ﾟ ㅤ. ㅤ☾

“i’m serious, sam,” dean says into the phone, keeping it held to his ear with the press of his shoulder, “it could just be kid stuff, but—” 

“...but when is it ever actually just the imagination explanation, yeah,” sam finishes, voice scratchy through the speaker. both of them are silent for a second, dean shoveling fries into his mouth while he sits in the long ass pick-up line outside of the school. “and, you know, jude doesn’t seem like she’d make things up.” 

dean almost snorts. he’s talking about the little girl that still puts mr. bear bear at the kitchen table when they eat dinner, still makes dean make him a plate and everything. 

but he’s right, about this. jude had stopped asking her prying questions about you the moment dean told her the truth, so it didn’t make sense for her to suddenly tell him this, insisting that her mother talked to her—

“she died like mom did,” sam continues, his voice softer, more sincere. “which could mean—” 

“that she’s one of those chosen special kids like you were, yeah, i know.” dean shakes his head. the thought makes his stomach feel like it’s bottoming out. he shoves the fast food bag further into the passenger seat, appetite vanished. “m’not thinkin’ about that right now.” 

sam scoffs into the speaker. “you’ll have to. and if you don’t tell her now—” 

“do not fucking tell me, sammy,” he says through gritted teeth, moving the phone from his shoulder to properly hold it at his ear, “how to raise my kid.” 

“dean.” sam’s sincerity makes dean want to kill him, in this moment. “you can get cute little kid questions now, or you can get resentment later.” 

dean’s eyes flick up to the front entrance of the school, to the hundreds of kids piling out of the doors. in the midst is his kid, her tiny feet carrying her quickly to his car. “gotta go, sammy. good talk.” 

he hangs up before sammy can get another word in. realistically, he knows sam is right, but that doesn’t make him happy about it. what little kid doesn’t want to have superpowers? and what teenager wants to be outcasted? the choice was clear. just… uncomfortable. 

jude throws up the front passenger seat door, tossing her backpack onto the ground with a hard thump. “fun first day?” dean asks, automatically scanning over her. no injuries, hair still in the loose waves from the fallen out braid, dress still in tact, shoes both still on—

“boring.” she sighs, climbing up into the seat with practiced ease. her eyes light up at the greasy bag in her seat. “for me?”

“who else, pretty girl? i don’t see anyone else around.” dean waits until she’s nice and buckled up before he takes the car out of park and starts to — slowly — leave the school zone.

jude already has her fist shoved deeply into the bag, digging around. there’s half a box of fries left, half a burger — he got hungry, alright? it isn’t until her little fingers are shoving two fries in her mouth at once than dean asks it. 

“any new updates from mommy?” hurts to say, hurts to think, but he can’t imagine being jude, potentially having a direct hotline to you on the other side, and not ever getting to see you. not knowing how great you were, besides the fact that you were her mommy. 

jude shrugs her shoulders. “just a little one.” 

dean’s fingers tap idly on the steering wheel. “and? what was it?” 

jude’s chewing with her mouth open, half bitten fries hanging out of her hand. “she said, ‘always.’ but i dunno what the heck mommy was talking about.” 

dean knew. and maybe the sun was a little brighter now, and maybe the clouds looked a little bit more like you.

 teenager.

“hey, jude,” dean sighs, a frown already tugged deeply on his lips at the sight of his daughter standing on the stairs, still dressed in her pajamas. 

she’d been sadder lately. wouldn’t talk. wouldn’t open up. he’d pushed a little too hard, and now he was suffering the tail end of the silent treatment. tail end because he was certain that she was going to talk to him, now. even if it wasn’t to let him inside that angsty head of hers. 

jude had her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes full of a deep disappointment that no girl her age should know about, let alone replicate. “dad.” 

see? he knew she would talk. it was… a very poor start, but a start nonetheless. 

“m’sorry that i asked about…” he made a broad, vague gesture with his hand. “you know.” 

“about my abilities, or about mom?” she snaps back, her eyebrows raising. one of her arms unwind from herself and the hand leans on the stairs’ railing. “because i have a feeling that you’re only sorry for one thing.” 

damn it. dean has to close his eyes and count to ten. he’s had to do this a lot, recently. teenagers were not for the faint of heart, and jude was as sassy as they came, just like you’d been. 

god, she looked so much like you. it was more evident now than anything, as she approached the age that you were when you…

“jude,” he starts, his hand moving to his face, scrubbing at it. his face is scruffier than usual, not in the mood to clean it up when his little girl was seething and hurting in the other room. who could do that? who could go about their routine while their daughter suffered? “you know i don’t use you to hear from her, right? you know that?” 

jude bristles. another wrong thing to say. he wants to be frustrated, but wasn’t he just like this as a teenager too? expecting everyone to know what he was thinking and what he wanted? “well, you never ask about the others.” 

“the others?” 

“the others,” she echoes again, like he’s the stupidest guy that’s ever walked this planet. “you never ask about grandma—” 

“don’t wanna know about grandma,” he says instantly.

her eyes roll. “don’t ask about grandpa, either.” 

“especially don’t wanna know about him.” dean’s figured out, in his own way, at his own pace, that his father’s treatment toward him wasn’t kind. all of the expectations placed on him were not normal, and were entirely neglectful as they were harsh. 

it took having his own kid to figure that out, sure, but he did. it should count for something. 

“why are you talking to grandma and grandpa, anyways?” 

“because they’re telling me things!” she shouts, her lip starting to wobble. dean didn’t mean to break through to her like this, but he did, and he’s thankful, in a way, for the progress. “they’re saying—” 

dean waits. he knows better than to approach without warning, has learned just how mean a teenage girl can get if you try and comfort her in the ways that she liked as a kid. he also knows that asking will only push her away. that’s how they’d gotten here, after all. 

“they keep saying something bad is going to happen.” 

dean blinks in alarm. “what?” he takes a step forward anyways, and he can’t help but reach out now. his hand closes around her wrist lightly, waiting for her to pull back. she doesn’t. that’s how dean knows that she’s serious, that she’s afraid. “what are they saying, princess?” 

her free hand lifts to wipe at her eyes, the irises that match his own locking and holding his stare. he can almost see the little girl in them, again; the one that was so curious, had so many questions, that looked at him like he held them in his palms. 

“grandma says she’ll be here for me,” she whimpers, shaking her head, “grandpa says to stay strong. mom says…” 

dean holds his breath. as much as he hates jude thinking that he uses her to hear from you, each update on what you say sticks in his mind until the next comes. he’s selfish, selfish, selfish. 

“mama says she’s so, so sorry.” 

dean is floored. it’s all so vague, all of the messages that come through the veil and into jude’s heart are always so vague, like the energy it takes to reach her is too much, and so they try to condense it down, but it’s an unintelligible mess. 

he can only think that that means something is going to happen to him. if the ghosts of his past are comforting her, that means that something godawful is in the plans for him. 

he tries to keep up a strong appearance, but the thought of abandoning jude, his little girl, makes him want to be sick.

“that’s just ghost speak,” he tries to say lightheartedly, his thumb gently tracing circles on her inner wrist, trying to soothe her worries about his impending death. god, this was the worst update of them yet. he’d thought hearing your promise to watch over her always was hard, but this… “you know how they are. vague, unhelpful, stirrin’ the pot from the other side because they're bored…” 

“mama’s never done that to me.” jude is starting to close off now. how come all of his worst traits made it into her, mixed in with all of your best traits? every time he’d come to terms with the fact that the only thing jude got of his was his eyes, something else peeked out, rearing its ugly head.

stubborn. hot-headed. reserved. 

he couldn’t bear to see it all reflected back at him in her identical eyes. 

dean doesn’t want her to keep pulling away, disappearing into her mind, a mind so much older than it needed to be. jude was only sixteen. there was no reason for her to bear all of this, to wear it so blatantly on her face. 

“it’s little glimpses into the future,” he says instead of reassurances that don’t land, “right? you hear them speak to you when they can manage it, and it coincides with the—” 

“visions,” jude fills in, nodding. every time sammy came over, they talked about this shared connection they had. it makes dean a little more angry than it should, that sam had this one-up on him, when it came to connecting with his impossibly-reserved daughter. “the visions.” 

dean nods along with her, letting go of her wrist finally. “so what was the vision this time?” 

dean’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. he doesn’t answer it. sam usually calls a few times after dean’s initial lack of response, and he either picks up if he’s freed before the routine comes to a close, or he just calls back when he can. right now, he wasn’t abandoning his daughter for anything. 

the phone stops ringing. jude must have been waiting for it to, before she spoke, because her words are firm and confident. “you were there.” 

dean closes his eyes. he expected this, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt still. 

“you were there, and you had blood all over you—” her lip is trembling again. his phone is ringing again. “and you were screaming, your voice was nearly gone…” 

his mind cuts back to his time in hell, when all he could do was scream as he was tortured relentlessly. every piece added up. 

his phone stops for a few seconds, starts up again. dean pulls it out of his pocket to turn it off. “that it?” 

jude’s eyes snap back into focus. “that’s it.” 

he’s devastated. all sixteen years of jude’s life, he wished that you were here alongside him. now, more than anything, he wished it too. he’d be abandoning your daughter. leaving her to face the real world alone, by herself. he could have handled it — at least better than now — if he knew he’d be leaving jude with you, but— 

“we’ll figure it out, okay?” he says softly, and when he pulls jude into his arms, she doesn’t pull away. she buries her face into his chest like she used to when she was smaller, less broken on the inside. 

he wished you were here, too, with your ability to stop time. keep him and you and jude in this moment forever, before he was taken away from her.

 young adult.

“hey, hey, jude,” dean’s voice trembles, shock and adrenaline at war in his veins. he’d never moved so fast in his life, catching her before she could tumble to the ground. 

her body folds on itself anyways, blood staining her chin, pooled in the corners of her lips. her mouth opens and closes, and no words come out, only the sound of gurgles as her throat fills with blood. 

her chest is so red that it’s black, shining under the moonlight. there, beneath her shirt, was a gunshot wound, fabric torn open where the collision happened. 

this wasn’t supposed to happen. this wasn’t supposed to happen. jude asked for anything, and he gave it to her, even when she was twenty-one now, and a lot of parents would take that as meaning it was time for her to find her own footing.

how could she without trying the things that she wanted? she knew about how he used to hunt. was desperate to see what it was like, just once, at least, before he was stolen away. five years later, he was still kicking strong, and he thought — he thought it would be okay. just a lone vampire on the outskirts of kansas. 

the drive had been fun. easy. he let jude drive baby a little, let her pick the music for once, and somehow fell asleep to the lullaby that was metallica. being raised by him had embedded itself into her nature, it seemed. 

he didn’t anticipate that he was, maybe, out of practice. maybe a bit too old for this. it was no wonder that his dad was gone for long periods of time on hunts because it took a while to get things right, when your body was slowing and your defenses were weakening. 

he hadn’t seen the gun. he hadn’t seen the gun. he— 

“jude?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. “jude, baby, c’mon, open your eyes—” 

“dad?” her voice is barely even a breath, wet and thick and faint. “dad, what’s… what’s happening?” jude’s mouth is opening and closing again. she coughs, and blood splatters onto his shirt, onto the wetness seeping through hers. “i don’t feel good.” her grip on his hand is loosening. his tightens. 

dean’s phone rings in his pocket. sam. has to be sam. no one else ever calls him but sam, anymore, and jude. but jude was here bleeding out. sam, sam, sam, if he could spare a few seconds to answer it—

but his eyes dart away and in that moment, jude’s eyes start to roll back into her head, and he panics. he pulls her tighter to his chest with one arm, letting go of her hand to fumble for his phone. it stops ringing. 

“just keep talking, baby girl, c’mon,” he mumbles, and he wants to shake her, he wants to force her eyes open, to force every bit of his life force into her. it was on a time limit anyways, right? 

his heart stops. his phone starts ringing again, or maybe it’s just his ears. 

grandma says she’ll be here for me. 

grandpa says stay strong. 

mama says—

dean feels his stomach lurch, his throat full of bile and tight with the growing lump in it. it was never him that was going to die. it was never him. 

it took five years for her fate to reach her. fate was so fucking fickle like that; turning your brain into a worried muddle of mess all the while knowing and withholding the exact things that worried you. 

he looks down at himself, and he’s covered in blood. and he knows exactly when he’ll start screaming to the point of losing his voice. 

“dad, it’s so cold,” jude says through a small sob, tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. “it’s so—” 

dean isn’t going to tell her, that she saw her own death five years prior. that this was the moment they’d been dreading, but reversed. tears pool in his eyes and spill over like waterfalls, turning the blood on her face watery and pink. 

“it’s okay,” he promises, his voice shaking, tremoring. “it’s okay, baby girl.” 

it wasn’t okay. but he’d been keeping secrets and sparing her from the truth for years now, when he could. maybe she’d forgive him for it. but he was not strong enough to let her feel bad for his mistakes this time. 

“i’m sorry,” she chokes out, another coughing fit bursting from her blood-slickened mouth. “i’m s’sorry—” 

“nothing to apologize for, pretty princess,” he says, and his voice strains through his throat like it’s being cut by shards of glass. “you have always, always been the perfect little girl. even now, look at you. trying to apologize to me, when—” 

dean doesn’t finish. his lips pull into a forced, small smile. “do you remember when you were a little girl?” 

jude doesn’t react. doesn’t move. each moment between her chest rising and falling is growing longer. “you’d be scared of the shadows in your closet, or of the voices you heard that i didn’t,” he explains anyways, each breath of his own trembling, “and you’d make me sing to you. remember? like my mama — like grandma used to, with me.” 

her lips quirk ever so slightly, her eyes distant, foggy. “hey, jude.” 

he nods. his grip on her gets tighter, like he can hug the life back into her. but dean can’t. he’s not the son with the abilities, or the dad with the magic or the answers, or you, who could stop time in this moment and call someone while the clock stayed still. he’s just dean, and he’s losing the last piece of you he had left, and the pieces of his daughter that he loved so, so much. 

“i don’t want you scared right now,” he whispers, moving her carefully in his arms to cradle her. he used to wish that she’d stop growing, would always stay small enough to fit in his arms. it feels like a sick joke now. “so if you want me to sing, i’ll sing.” 

“okay,” jude says, and her eyes lock onto his for a brief second, before they start to fade again. 

the words fall from his mouth in shuddering, shaky gasps, his eyes locked on jude’s. jude’s, that are open and unmoving. jude’s, that have always matched his, the one thing that she got from him. 

his voice is raw, echoing in the abandoned den, screaming so loud that it would have woke the dead up, if it worked that way. but it didn’t, because jude didn’t move, and the world was silent and buzzing in his ears, or maybe it was his phone ringing again, again, again, and the only thing that played in his head was the song that used to comfort him.

hey jude, don't make it bad. take a sad song and make it better. remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.

tags, @depressionbarbie2023 @jasvtsc @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @cosmicanakin

@beausling @whyyouegg @ostaramoon @ultravi0lence14 @bombarda-babe

i fr don't know who esle to tag the more ppl i tag the more i will have to say sorry to

[v1x3n]

P U B L I C S E X

꒰ PAIRING : phillip graves x reader x shadow company (hint).

꒰ SYNOPSIS : your commander has an eye on you and fucks you so hard that all your co workers hear!

꒰ TAGS : smut - office sex, spanking, public sex, degrading words, humiliation, hair pulling, overstimulation, unprotected sex, p in v.

navigation ⸝⸝ kinktober masterlist ⸝⸝ taglist

your mewls fill up the room as your commander's large hand wraps around your hair, pulling the strands back whilst his cock fills your hole to the brim. his cum filled balls hitting off of your clit, the small nub overstimulated, the man behind you grunts grew loud, almost covering the sounds of your small pathetic whines.

“fuck!” Phillip groaned with a high volume, “you like th-this?” you nod weakly at his words. “Say it” he warns, a slap delivered to your round ass. his hands grip onto the flesh after as you whimper out, “i-i like it!”

“That's it” he almost moans out, his head falls back as his thrusts grow impatient. you look up and see the door, just on the other side of this list filled room was your co workers, your friends, men and women who respected you. would they respect you after this? oh god, could they hear you?

your mind snaps back as the very tip of his wet cock pushes against your g-spot in an angry kiss. you whine loudly, your eyes fall to the back of your head while your teeth tightly hold onto your bottom lip, on the brink of letting out your loud moans.

you didn't expect this to happen - well you wanted it too happen and you wished for it but you never had expected to be bent over your commanders desk, his hand pulling your hair back, your back arched and your ass bright red due to the smacks phillip had gave you, your cunt was overwhelmed, this had been going on for around an hour. his pace didnt stop and he was so fucking strong, manhandling you into any position he wanted you to be in. luckily for you, he had come, unluckily for you, he wasn't done with you yet. your short pencil skirt lifted up to your waist and your tights and panties ripped to create an opening for your holes and cheeks.

you had walked into there to ask him about a mission, you being his assistant would need to fill out some paperwork, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the way the bottom of your ass peaked from the small skirt, the way your blouse tightened in all the right places and the way your lipgloss was applied so perfectly. Within 5 minutes, all of that was messed up and you were crying, clenching around his thick cock and trying to keep your noises down to prevent your coworkers hearing your pathetic moans.

“c-commander!” you whine when his dick pulls out to thrust back in, harshly hitting the gooey spot deep inside of you, your mewls roll past your lips, “p-please! someone ca- hah! -can walk in!" Phillip scoffs at that, stupid worry. “dont- fuuckkkk!! -king care” he groans out, pressure growing in his stomach while he feeds you his cock.

The sound of skin slapping against each other fills out the room, probably echoing outside his office but at that moment he didn't care. “shit!” groaning while your pussy tightening around him, cum creating a ring around his cock. pressure coils in your stomach as you whine out, trying to bring your head to the table but his strong hands keep a grip onto the strands. you quickly approach your orgasm, body jerks at the overstimuation as a white liquid splatters all over his twitching cock, “so good f’ me, good f-fucking slut!” philip moans out loudly, his eyes close to focus on the way your tight cunt wraps around his dick, not letting him pull out as he finishes, “fuckking- hngg- whore”

cum fills your hole, deep inside of you and you subconsciously loosen, letting his dick slide from you and hits your spanked ass. you breathe out with heavy breathes while he pants, you clench due to you missing his big dick deep inside of your guts. Phillip sees your hole clamping and he snickers evilly, “miss me already, sweet’art?” your commander mocks.

After he cleans you up, your ripped tights and panties not able to be fixed so you have to take them off! Phillip said it was the smart thing to do and he's your commander so you have to listen to him. You buttoned your blouse back up and tried to sort out your hair, fixing up your make up and swiping off the mascara that rolled down your blush filled cheeks. Phillip put his cock away and sat in his chair, watching you tidy yourself up with a smug smirk on his face, your ripped clothes in his hands. 

“You better hurry, you got t’ hand in the paperwork by 7” he warns which makes you scramble out of his office. As soon as you left you met eyes with a few shadows. The awkward air mixed with the groups of soldiers peering over to you led to being hinted that they heard the entire thing. Trying to ignore all the looks through the day, you also try to ignore the way breeze hits your wet, cum filled pussy and your sensitive clit. you do end up forgetting about it until you accidentally drop a pen. Subconsciously bending down to grab it and your skirt lifts up - flashing the liquid that spewed from your messy pussy. The white slop dripping down your thighs, the burning eyes on you filling your cheeks with a  bright blush, you hear a whistle and your eyes snap back towards the sound. 

There you saw philip graves, standing outside his office, lingering in the doorway, he winked at you, “was round one not enough?” the smug words gaining a few snickers from the shadows, “slut.” Phillip smirks. Looking you up and down before walking up to you, 

“Wanna give 'em a show, sugar?”