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#but then things became about *seeing yourself* in a story and i think that's a slippery slope
forgive-the-sea · 5 months
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i think somewhere along the line (in my experience) after 2020 reader fan fic became less about enjoying a story and more about inserting ourselves into stories and idk how to feel about that
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queertransetc · 11 months
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- ED trigger warning -
Being skinny ruined my life. If you’re thin and think to yourself, “why don’t fat people just lose weight?” Please read this
I was the “ideal fat” in the sense that I did everything skinny people wanted me to do. I tried every diet in the book. I exercised regularly. I worked with doctors and dietitians to figure out the best way to lose weight. But nothing worked. I did everything “right” to lose weight, and my weight stayed the same
But the thin people in my life kept telling me that I wouldn’t be happy, attractive, healthy, etc. until I lost weight. So, heartbroken, I came to the conclusion that anorexia was the only option left. It felt safer than bariatric surgery, and was obviously much more affordable
I became the perfect anorexic. 700 cal a day or less, except once a week I allowed myself 1400 cal. For reference, my body required at least 2800 to maintain weight, and at least 1800 to keep my organs and stuff fully functioning. Still, 700 a day, I persisted because everyone in my life told me weight loss was all that mattered. If dieting didn’t work, anorexia had to
And it did. My weight dropped all the way down to 110 pounds. I was skinny - underweight, even - in all sense of the word. The people in my life saw it as a miracle. The ultimate success story. My mother, my “friends,” my doctors, they all congratulated me on my accomplishment
When I confessed my eating disorder to my doctor, he told me, “that’s not the best way to go about it, but I’m glad you lost the weight.” My mother took pictures of me and sent them to relatives to brag
Okay, great. I was skinny. I did what I set out to do. But there were severe consequences
The most obvious was my joint pain doubled, maybe even tripled, to the point that I couldn’t leave the house without a wheelchair
I also developed several health complications, including fatty liver disease and extremely painful GERD. I had to see a handful of specialists and get an endoscopy because of severe stomach pain
My partner, who was the only person who saw my weight loss for what it was (a horrible thing that only happened because of an eating disorder), convinced me to enter a recovery program
For nearly a year, I relearned how to feed myself. I ate everything I was told to eat, nothing more and nothing less. My diet was 100% in the hands of somebody else
And I gained back every pound I has lost. All of the work to become thin went right out the window. It was proven to me that thinness and health were incompatible with my body. If I wanted to be thin, I had to forgo my physical and mental well-being. And vise-versa
Prior to the anorexia, I never once struggled with binge eating. I was naturally an intuitive eater, and I did a good job of having a well rounded diet. After the anorexia, after recovery, I developed a binge eating disorder. I had spent so long starving myself, that my brain and body got stuck in survival mode, desperate to consume any and all calories out of fear that I might starve again. To this day I struggle with binge eating
I did everything thin people wanted of me. I dieted. I exercised. And when all else failed, I starved myself. Now I have liver disease, stomach issues, and BED. Not to mention the loads of mental issues that accumulated as a result of my weight loss journey. During the throes of my anorexia, I had to be hospitalized for suicidal ideation
When you tell fat people to “just lose weight” you are suggesting they give themselves illnesses for which treatments are not always effective. You are asking fat people to destroy their stomachs and livers. When a fat person loses so much weight that they become skinny, they are likely giving up so much of their health in efforts to be treated like a human being
If you’re thin, do your part. Treat fat people like people before we tear our bodies apart
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rie-092 · 2 months
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FATHER, CAN I DIE?
✶﹒ platonic yandere! manhwa fathers x suicidal/overworked daughter! reader
summary : maybe they should just lock you in your room to make sure that you won't do something dangerous.
a.n : i plan to make this a series, what do you think?
abel heilon
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let's start with the most chill platonic yandere! out of the guys that i will feature in this post! abel heilon, the duke of the north with a simple mindset of 'if you mess with me then i'll mess with ya' we all know how protective he is with fiona and siegren. but just imagine, what if— just what if he has an illegitimate child who's related to him by blood that he hid from the public's eyes.
anyways, the first time he met you. he became sure of one thing. damn, you were indeed his child. with that silver hair, blue eyes and personality of yours— you were indeed his child. he can't deny that because you looked like a kid version of him. well, it's not like he is denying it tho— but what the fuck is wrong with your brain anyways?!
he doesn't know if you were abused before he met you. but why in the hell are you so obsessed with suicide anyways?! why the fuck are you even throwing yourself in battles when you were a support mage?! for the fuck sake! stop! yes, you have above average amount of mana! but the hell?! you're not as strong as fiona nor siegren! stop it!
if it's not for siegren then he wouldn't know the fact that you happily greeted the assassin that was sent by the imperial family. according to him, before siegren saved you from the assassin you even have the guts to propose to that damn assassin about committing suicide together since according to you, you have fallen in love with him— hearing that story, abel couldn't help but facepalm. (first name), you're thirteen! and that assassin is already thirty-six or worse, older!
maybe because of the stress of managing the north and keeping you safe from your suicide attempts. abel finally snapped.
look, abel likes watching you enjoying your freedom. but damn, if he doesn't do anything about this— he might end up burying you before you even reach the age of 18. he won't hurt you, he swears. that was the last thing that he will do to you. but that doesn't mean that he can't take preventive measures to make sure that you were safe.
platonic yandere! abel heilon was one of the chillest platonic yandere that existed. he will let you do anything that you want, he won't take away your freedom nor hurt you. he isn't also overbearing to the point that it was suffocating. but don't make him snap, because he can be the most suffocating and controlling parent existed.
now, on your sixteenth birthday— to celebrate it. you decided to jump onto the freezing river near the manor. you expected that you'll wake up inside your room— but no. when you opened your eyes, you were inside an unfamiliar room that has no windows. seeing that you can't use your magic, you were sure that there's a magic restricting device placed around here. what the hell is happening?
the door had opened, you looked at who it was and saw abel looking at you with a smug grin. you tried to ask him what is going on but instead of replying— abel only ruffled your hair saying that it will be only him and you from now on. and that was when you realized one thing— abel had taken your freedom away from you.
but abel didn't care. cry until you have no tears left, he doesn't care. the only thing that he cared about was keeping you alive. and this is the only thing that he know to achieve his goal. but don't worry, he will visit you everyday and give you books to make sure that you won't get bored. so, can you stop being a btch and appreciate his efforts?
he doesn't care if your eyes lost its usual enthusiasm and spark. he doesn't care if you stop eating at some point— because abel can shove the food inside your mouth to make sure that you stay alive.
oh, by the way— fiona was the one who made the room where you were staying now. she just wanted to make sure that you were safe! and the only place where you can be safe is the place where you can't use magic! so, forgive them, will ya?
“should i just cut off your arms? so that you won't be able to use your magic again?”
gallahan lombardy
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okay, as far as you know— you are not really a suicidal type of person. but for your father, gallahan lombardy you are. because for gallahan, overworking is another way to try to kill yourself after all.
gallahan is a sweet person, i swear. he won't hurt you at all and isolating you? no, no, no, gallahan won't do that! but he still couldn't help but become paranoid when it came to you. you were way too focused on studying— maybe because of the pressure that you were getting from the other people.
your sleep only lasted for two or four hours, you always isolate yourself inside the library. and gallahan didn't like it at all— look, you need to take it easy and rest. the only time you leave the library was when gallahan and tia drag you outside to eat in a cafe or buy new clothes.
platonic yandere! gallahan loves to spoil you. you wanted to buy books? here you go. want to try home-cooked foods? sure, he'll cook it for you. do you want to go to the festival with tia? alright! as long as he will go with you two.
but then, a certain event made gallahan snap. it was a normal day and gallahan entered the library to drag you outside so that you could socialize with the family. but then, he saw you unconscious on the floor, buried in the books and your nose was bleeding. gallahan was panicking, he didn't know what to do. what if you don't wake up? what if something bad happens to you? or worse— what if you die? if it wasn't for shananet who saw her younger brother's panicked face and her niece's condition. then gallahan won't be able to calm down and call the family doctor.
and what is the doctor's diagnosis? you were overworked. and after hearing that, rulac lombardi, your grandfather along with your auntie and uncles saw how your father's face darkened while looking at you who was peacefully sleeping on the bed.
and then, after that incident. you couldn't help but become confused when gallahan didn't scold you— instead, when you woke up. you saw him smiling softly at you. he didn't even ask you to take it easy. he just lets you do what you want.
but what you found odd was your father started giving you foods and drinks everytime and after consuming those things. you started feeling tired and before you knew it, you always ends up asleep. and once you woken up, you were already on your room. with tia cuddling with you while your father was asleep while sitting on the chair next to your bed also asleep.
knowing how innocent your father was, you never suspect a thing. you just kept on eating and drinking the things that he was giving to you. and you never questioned why you always get tired after it. your father loves you so much, so he wouldn't do anything— right?
plot twist, gallahan actually puts drug on your food and drinks to make sure that you will take a rest and never overwork yourself again. but a year later, you started losing your sense of sight because of it. but gallahan and tia don't care when you have them? oh, just thinking about their sweet (first name) being dependent on them was enough to make them very happy.
“sorry, honey! this is just a precaution, okay?”
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romanticintheory · 1 month
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Hello!!!! I was wondering if you could write an angst with Ghost/Simon where the reader was too clingy after having a bad day and he lashed out on her but he didn't think anything of it because the next day the reader was acting normal. He only noticed after a few weeks when reader became more distant and quiet. Feel free to ignore if it's too weird or you don't like it!!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
this one is dedicated to all the ones who were hurt and never got that apology. hope this alleviates the pain.
simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader || masterlist || request rules
-there was no one specific reason as to why today turned out to be a bad day. it just was.
-from accidentally burning yourself trying to make breakfast after waking up late to having to deal with the most insufferable customers, it just wasn't your day today.
-but it was okay, because you had simon to return to when everything was said and done.
-the frown on your face immediately softens the moment you see him walk through the door to your shared home. as soon as he pulls his mask and boots off, you make your way toward him and engulf him in a tight hug.
-you are painfully (but understandably) unaware of the thin veil of his patience and the frustration that had been brewing within him in the past few hours. he half-heartedly returns the embrace.
-"how was your day, si?" you ask him gently.
-"fine," he responds shortly, hoping there isn't more to the conversation.
-even after you pull away from him, you trail behind him as he moves around the house. this wasn't irregular behavior from either of you. simon wasn't usually the most talkative person in the room, anyway, but he loved to hear your voice. that was one of the things he loved about the two of you together; you filled the space he couldn't.
-today, though, was different. he was pissed off at all different kinds of people. for some reason, couldn't bring himself to tell you that he was having a bad day and needed some space, especially because it was evident you were having a bad one yourself.
-so when he turned on his heel after listening to your rambles for as much as he could take and lashed out at you, he tried not to think about the unbearable amount of guilt seeping into his veins.
-"would you just stop clinging to me for five minutes? god, 's like i can't get away from you or your constant fucking talking!"
-you had heard stories, mostly from simon, about the kind of man he could be when pushed to his limit. mostly, it was of violent, physical acts when it came to work or protecting the ones he loved. other times, he would tell you about when he'd lash out at others just like he did to you, now, and he always told it to you with a quiet fear. there was an unspoken meaning to him telling you about the times he's acted out: i don't want to do the same to you. i don't want to hurt you.
-but here he was, towering over you with a coldness in his eyes and a dryness in his throat from the sheer volume of his words.
-averting your gaze from his, you let out a meek, "'m sorry," and watch as he slams the door in front of your face.
-when he slinks into bed next to your sleeping form later that night, ridden with shame and guilt, he misses the tear-stained face hidden from him. after his outburst, you felt like all of the energy in your body had been taken away from you and retreated to bed early. you cried on and off for hours.
-you always thought you had a clinging problem. it was an insecurity you carried with you starting from childhood. friends would become acquaintances and family would keep you at arms-length. after years of believing the issue was you, simon walked into your life and told you different.
-if you stopped talking because you thought he stopped listening and was uninterested, he'd always turn back to you and genuinely ask why you stopped talking. whenever you apologized for hugging him for too long or asking to spend time with him for the third time that week, he'd always tilt his head at you and say in that low, sincere voice, "but i love you?"
-for all those reasons, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt despite how much he hurt you. so, when he tries to bring it up the next morning, you do your best to brush it off. he was having a bad day. that was all. no need to make a fuss.
-"listen, love," he calls to you as you pop your piece of toast out of the toaster. "about last night-"
-completely disregarding his words, you look at the clock and stuff your phone into your pocket. "it's fine. honestly, simon," you tell him with the best smile you could muster. "i'm gonna be late. i'll see you tonight."
-you were so adamant on getting out as quick as possible that simon had no time to respond. he thought to himself that maybe he was making a bigger deal out of it than you. maybe there were no hard feelings and you were completely fine. after all, he was always overly worried for you, anyway.
-so, when you came home, he didn't mention it. it was as if last night didn't happen, and the two of you were perfectly fine. there were times where simon thought you were being a bit more restrained in your movements or words, but he tried to chalk it up to just him being overly paranoid. you said it was fine, so it was better not to push you on it, right?
-at first, you were doing really good at keeping yourself from overthinking the situation. however, as time went on and you paid more attention to how you acted around your boyfriend, you began to wonder if you were really that clingy.
-as the week progressed, your state of mind would deteriorate. what if it wasn't just a bad day? what if that was what he thought the entire time and was just waiting for the right moment to tell you? had he just been trying to cheer you up about your insecurities the entire time? and if he was, how much of this relationship was even real, then?
-the more you thought about it, the more distant you became. the last thing you wanted to do was make simon feel like he was being suffocated by you. you slowly stopped initiating physical affection with him, restricted talking about your day to a few sentences, and tried to answer simon's questions in one word when possible.
-he notices. of course he notices, it was like a stranger was living where you were supposed to be, and he missed it. he missed you.
-he asks you about your change when you're getting ready for bed, pulling the rest of your nightshirt over your head. despite being exhausted from work and looking like you were sitting out in the wind, he thought you never looked more ethereal than you did now.
-"(y/n)," he said.
-"hm?" you hummed to him, not turning toward his direction. you sat down on the edge of your side of the bed, turning off the lamp at the same time.
-your lack of emotional presence was starting to eat at him. he sat down next to you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight and forcing you to lean toward him.
-"you alright?"
-"yes. why?"
-"i dunno, you just seem..." his eyes tried to find yours, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze. "quiet."
-it was then that you looked at him, and it was scary to simon because he couldn't make out the emotion in your expression. there was nothing he could read.
-"isn't that-" you had to pause to try and stabilize your wavering voice. "isn't that what you wanted?"
-there was a tension-filled silence that settled in the room, and for a second you were worried that what you said was somehow incredibly offensive.
-finally, he chokes out, "i'm sorry."
-again, you try to muster up a smile. "it's fine, i already told you. i should've known you wanted space."
-"no."
-"no?"
-"it was my fault," he explains. "how could you 'ave known? i didn't tell you i wasn't in the mood that day, and that's not even considering the way i talked to you. i shouldn't have- nothing excuses what i said to you."
-still, you were convinced you were to blame. "well, i have a history of being clingy, so," you were trying to come up with more excuses for him. for most of your life, you had decided that you were the issue. it couldn't be any other way, right?
-"i know. it's one of the things i love you for," he says quietly. "not to sound cheesy but it's what makes you you, and i don't want you to lose that jus' 'cause i'm still shitty at communication."
-you knew in some capacity he was right. there was no excuse for how he talked to you, but the next words you wanted to say evaded you.
-simon thought about talking some more. instead, he grasped your back with one hand and slid his other underneath your legs, repositioning you on his lap. it was like a silent plea from him, a way of proving that he wanted to be close to you just as much as you wanted to be close to him.
-"you're sure i'm not too clingy?" you ask tentatively.
-"positive," he reassures you, rubbing small circles on your back with his thumb. "you wanna know something?"
-"what?"
-"if i wasn't so fucked up-"
-"you're not fucked up."
-"right." you never let him talk badly about himself. that was something he was still getting used to after all this time. being loved and learning to love himself. "well, if i didn't grow up the way i did and became the person i am, i'd probably be way clingier than you."
-"that's impossible," you deny, unconsciously letting yourself lean into his touch.
-"you don't know how much i want you. if my mind and body would let me, i'd be close to you all the time, showing you the attention you deserve."
-"you give me plenty."
-"agree to disagree," he stops with the circles and pulls you impossibly closer to his body. "but 'm trying. 'm trying to learn to let you love me and to not be afraid to love you. 'm sorry, love. i stopped trying that night, and i think it'll be the death of me."
-you let his words sink in, a thoughtful look on your face.
-"next time you'll tell me, right? what you're thinking?"
-"pinkie promise," he agrees, letting the hand under your legs slide out and raise his pinkie finger toward you.
-in return, you link your pinkie with his to seal the promise, and it feels as though the heavy tension in the air has cleared away.
-"i love you," he says, feeling bold from his previous admission.
-"i love you, too." there's that smile on your face. he never realized until now how he probably couldn't live without it.
-he kisses you on the lips, and for a moment the two of you just stay there in each other's arms, forgiving the past, healing the present, and dreaming of the future together.
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dark-fics-4-you · 3 months
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Thinking about dark overprotective Rafe Cameron with pregnant clumsy reader 🥹💕
Love Plus One
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A/N: i hope this lives up to your fantasies 😉
Warnings: noncon/forced sex, coercion, smut, forced pregnancy (but reader doesn’t know), pregnant sex, abusive relationship, guilt tripping, choking, slut shaming, slapping, controlling behavior, threats of violence, reader has some negative thoughts about her pregnant body
After the first time that you slipped in the shower without Rafe there to catch you, despite that fact that you had easily caught yourself before falling, Rafe had made you promise to not take any more showers without him. “If I had been there, you probably wouldn’t have slipped in the first place,” he grumbled.
Rafe suddenly became very involved in prepping and cooking meals for you. He gave you plenty of options, planning weekly menus for you and shopping accordingly, all to make sure that both you, and his baby, were getting all of the nutrients you needed. Rafe always did love your cooking, but now he chose to cook for you practically every night. “You shouldn’t have to be running around the kitchen when you’re pregnant, baby.”
You noticed one day that there was a location tracking app on your phone that you hadn’t downloaded, when you angrily asked Rafe about it, the look of worry on his face almost made you want to cry, “I just get anxious when you’re out sweetheart. The world is full of men that would love nothing more than to hurt you, and I did that to make sure you were staying safe, Y/N.” His eyes flicked between your eyes and your growing belly, which was now beginning to show much more. After that you apologized to him for getting mad about it, giving him a big hug.
Rafe would want to spend all of his time with you, which you found cute at first, but after a while, you started to feel a bit suffocated by him. Your boyfriend was so concerned about “keeping you safe” that he would barely allow you to leave your shared house.
Even walking around the neighborhood or, god forbid, running, was completely off limits.
You knew that it was because you were clumsy, he was right. You always had been, but now was not the time for being accident prone. Not when you had Rafe Cameron’s child growing inside of you.
However, you did feel like at times he could be overprotective of you. Even demeaning occasionally. Like he didn’t trust you to make your own decisions.
When you drove to the store at just 4 months pregnant, Rafe called you 5 times before you finally picked up. You had just wanted to get out of the house for a bit and enjoy the spring air while getting some chores done, but when you returned home one would have thought that you had been skiing on Mount Everest, given Rafe’s reaction. “Why would you leave without telling me? I would have gone to the store for you, Y/N! You shouldn’t have even been carrying those bags by yourself!” Pointing out how little you had actually ended up purchasing, just two plastic bags worth of things, was pointless. “You could have fallen or-or some guy could have kidnapped you!” He huffed, and you could feel the list of locations you could go alone, or even with Rafe, dwindling down to only one place, your apartment.
Rafe had always been incredibly touchy with you, one of the reasons you had gotten pregnant with his baby in the first place. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, you had just always imagined that it would have been different, you would be older and married, and living in a 2 story house with your husband of several years.
Instead, here you were, still in your early 20s, pregnant with your boyfriend of 3 years’ child. You loved Rafe and could see yourself marrying him one day, but you were both still so young! Getting pregnant this early had never been in the plans.
Despite using birth control and condoms, you had somehow gotten pregnant, a fact that took you a while to accept, and after Rafe urged you to not get an abortion, you begrudgingly accepted that you were going to be a mother a couple years sooner than expected.
Of course, you had no idea that this was no accident at all. Rafe had been swapping out your birth control pills for placebos and poking holes in every condom he put on. Of course one of his favorite things about you being pregnant was that he could finally fuck you raw now.
Pregnancy hormones had definitely upped your libido at the beginning of your pregnancy, a fact that thrilled Rafe. He had never felt so desired by you, and he was more than happy to oblige with all of your requests.
Anytime you were feeling under the weather or upset about something, Rafe would coax you into bed and eat you out for what felt like hours. He loved your changing body so much, always kissing and sucking on your full, sensitive breasts and rubbing your growing tummy. The blond would slowly delve between your plush thighs, gingerly kissing and nipping at your soft skin before turning his attention to your already slick pussy, eagerly lapping up your juices and teasing your clit.
Rafe loved to satisfy you, but he also loved to draw it out as long as possible, keeping you on the brink of coming for ten minutes before finally giving in to your begging whimpers. He loved the feeling of you coming on his tongue, the way you tasted and how you squirmed in his grasp, tears forming in your eyes when you whined that it was too much for you.
You would come again just from him teasing you with the tip of his cock, rubbing it along your messy slit and tapping it against your already tender clit.
When he pushed all of himself inside of you, you hissed in a wonderful mix of pleasure and pain, wrapping your legs around his waist and digging your nails into his broad shoulders.
Rafe loved watching your face as he fucked you, the way your eyes would unfocus as you looked up at him, your plump lips separating and the beautiful sound of your moans and whimpers was almost enough to make him bury his load in you immediately, but the feel of your tight cunt squeezing his cock was a sensation he didn’t want to give up just yet.
He plunged himself into your dripping pussy over and over again, filling you up in a way that made your eyes squeeze shut, toes curling as you clung to him.
After you came a third time, tensing around him and crying as you mindlessly babbled through whimpers, Rafe’s large hand covered your mouth, and the doe eyes you gave him as he frantically rutted into you made him spill all of his warm cum into your soaked cunt.
Every time he pulled out of you, he would reach for your sensitive pussy, spreading your lips and watching his cum begin to drip out of you before pushing it deeper inside your pussy with two fingers. God he wished he could get you pregnant again while you were already pregnant. Just one kid wasn’t enough for Rafe Cameron, and unbeknownst to you, he had plans for the two of you to have a large family.
Gradually, as your body changed, so did your sex drive. Rafe showered you with compliments as always, reminding you constantly how much he loved your body and the way it looked now, which made you a bit torn. Personally, you felt you were now less desirable, and it made you much more reluctant to give in to his high demands.
Rafe respected your boundaries at first, although he never failed to complain about his needs not being met, and even though you were sure of your decisions, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you couldn’t satisfy him sexually every night.
After a full week of you denying him, Rafe was fed up with your ‘no’s’
“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex tonight Rafe,” you nervously stammered. “I’m just not feeling the best about my body right now.”
“So let me make you feel good baby,” Rafe purred in your ear, sensually rubbing your thighs, which you were squeezing together.
You still didn’t feel up to having sex tonight, and you told your boyfriend as much, but it was like he wasn’t listening to you.
His fingers creeped down your thighs, his strong arms slowly pried your legs apart and you flinched when he began rubbing you over the fabric of your shorts.
“Rafe, please.” You begged with him, anxiety building in your chest when he still didn’t stop.
“Please what?” He mocked you, slipping his fingers past your panties and teasing your clit. You squirmed in his grasp, a sick feeling settling in your gut when you realized Rafe was determined to get what he wanted.
When you tried to push his hand away, the other flew out, slapping you across the face, hard enough to shock you without leaving a mark.
“Stop fucking moving!” He shouted at you and you could feel tears welling behind your eyes. “You’re gonna hurt our baby.”
You tried to tell him that you didn’t want to have to fight off your boyfriend of 3 years, that you were only resisting in the first place because he hadn’t respected your ‘no,’ but when Rafe pushed all of himself inside of you with one thrust, your mind went blank and you froze beneath him.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, arms shaking slightly as he basked in the feeling of your unprepared cunt squeezing his cock. “I swear to god, you’ve only gotten tighter, baby. Y’feel so good.”
Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks, from both physical discomfort and distress at what your boyfriend was doing to you, the way he was violating you.
Every stroke of his cock was agonizing, and even after your body had adjusted and it began to feel good, the fact that you hadn’t wanted this at all tainted the entire experience. You felt ashamed by the delicious way his cock stretched you out and how your body reacted to his touch.
You had given up fighting back altogether, Rafe’s thinly veiled threat echoing in your ears every time you wanted to push him off of you, although his hands had yours gripped so tight, there was no chance you could have gotten away.
You were scared because Rafe was hurting you, but you were even more terrified at the thought of him hurting your baby.
When your release hit you unexpectedly, you felt utterly betrayed by your body. Your tear choked whimpers filled the room as you came around him, accompanied by the lewd sounds of Rafe plunging his cock into you repeatedly.
Rafe sneered down at you as he snapped his hips against yours, “I thought you didn’t want this, hm? So reluctant until I stuff my cock in you and then you can’t get enough.”
His words made your face burn with shame, and your stomach flipped in disgust at both him and yourself.
When his free hand wrapped around your throat, your eyes widened and you jerked against his touch, but his hold on you was unwavering and unforgiving.
“I’m not gonna let you walk all over me just because you’re pregnant.” Rafe seethed, his pace picking up as he chased his release. “You’ve got my kid growing inside you. Just means you belong to me now even more than you did before.”
His fingers tightened around your throat as he came, choking you so hard your vision started to grow fuzzy and black around the edges. The feeling of his sticky cum coating your walls made you want to throw up.
Rafe pulled out and you realized he was talking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything he said, you just nodded numbly, trying to come back to reality as your ears rang and his muffled voice filled the tense air that was permeating the room.
“-maybe now you’ll actually fucking listen to me,” he rambled on, and as you nervously laid in bed beside him, trying to doze off and forget everything that he had just done to you, you realized you were utterly terrified of your boyfriend.
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 days
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EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER
A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol
WORD COUNT: 9k
WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)
SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.
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You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 
You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.
And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 
When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 
Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 
“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.
“I’m taken.”
“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”
You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 
It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 
An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 
Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 
“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.
“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 
When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 
“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 
“Harry…”
“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 
“Yes, he did.”
“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.
“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 
“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”
“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.
“The guy cheated on you!”
“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 
“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”
You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 
“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”
“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”
“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”
It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 
“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”
“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”
He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 
“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”
You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 
No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 
Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 
Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 
Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 
JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.
JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.
You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.
You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.
JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.
JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 
JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.
There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 
“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 
“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”
He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 
“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”
“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”
“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”
“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”
And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 
You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 
You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.
“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”
He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 
“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 
“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 
“Come on, let’s go inside.”
He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 
“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.
“I’ll take care of it.”
You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 
“Now tell me what happened.”
“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 
Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.
“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 
Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 
So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 
About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 
“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.
“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”
“Did her father see you?”
“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.
“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 
“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.
“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”
“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 
“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 
“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”
“What is?”
“Ah, don’t make me say it!”
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”
“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”
Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 
Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 
“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”
“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 
Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 
“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”
“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 
“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”
“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 
“Of course.”
“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”
Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 
“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”
“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 
“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”
Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 
“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”
“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 
“Did he hurt you?”
“Just… with his words.”
“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”
A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 
“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”
Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 
“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”
“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 
“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”
Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 
When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.
“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 
“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 
“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 
His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 
“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”
You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 
“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.
“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”
“Did you just–”
“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”
Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 
“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.
“Exactly.”
There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 
“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 
“Sure.”
You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 
“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 
“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”
“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 
“Of course. Keep my seat open.”
Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.
“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”
You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 
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You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.
Or with somebody else.
Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 
However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 
Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.
You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 
You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 
But are you still in love with him?
One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 
“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”
“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.
“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”
“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.
“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”
Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 
“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”
“I’ll go with you.”
Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 
“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 
“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”
He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 
“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”
“Sure.” 
“Okay.”
“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”
His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…
“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”
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The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.
When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 
With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 
Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 
Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 
No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 
I am Ironman.
Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 
Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…
Andrea.
And Penelope.
And Bella.
And Riley.
Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.
But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 
You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 
Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.
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Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.
But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 
“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 
“Let’s get going.”
You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 
Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 
It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 
You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 
And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 
You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.
“Not having fun, Harry?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 
“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 
“Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”
“Don’t stop what?”
“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”
“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.
“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.
“Except I’m not.”
You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 
“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”
His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 
It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.
You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 
You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 
You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 
For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 
You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 
“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 
It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 
As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 
But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 
“Tell me no at any point, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 
“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 
“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”
You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 
“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”
You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 
“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”
Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 
You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 
With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 
“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 
He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 
“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 
“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 
He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 
Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 
He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 
He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 
“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”
“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”
“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”
You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 
Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 
Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 
“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”
Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 
He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 
Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.
He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 
“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”
“Not until you—”
“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 
Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 
He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 
Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 
“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 
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A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.
It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 
Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.
There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?
Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.
“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”
“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 
“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 
It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.
“You thought I left,” he says. 
“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”
He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 
“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”
“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”
“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”
Oh, yeah. You remember that.
“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”
“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.
“Even if it takes forever.”
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
836 notes · View notes
pandoraslxna · 10 months
Note
could u write a fic where lo’ak is edging the reader so she gets kinda frustrated and storms off so the rest of the day lo’ak is teasing her and making fun of her for getting mad but she gets back at him by edging him so much that he cries🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
Want, get, have.
adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader
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Words: 5.2k
Summary: Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.
Warnings: explicit smut, edgeplay, Lo‘ak is kinda mean and maybe out of character here, minimal dub/con warning because he’ll get tied up later, p in v, handjob, oral / face sitting, cowgirl position, dirty talk, crying, begging, degradation & praise kink, orgasm denial, obsession, spit kink, switch!Lo‘ak, creampie
Notes: sorry this took forever, I hope you like it 🩵
Na’vi translation:
paskalin = honey
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At first, it was a rumour.
To be more specific, it was the kind of rumour that was grounded close enough to reality that he could see it happening, but not so close that a skeptic could take it at face value, no matter how hard Kiri swore it was legit. Because, see, she heard it from Rotxo who'd heard it from your brother Ao’nung and therefore it must be true. There was no real reason to put any stock in this particular story over, but Lo‘ak couldn't help but be curious. He spent days going back and forth on whether or not he should investigate, but after the fifth, "Hey bro, did you hear...?", he knew he wouldn't be able to get any peace of mind if he didn't. And when it turned out to be true, Lo‘ak couldn’t believe his luck.
The spoiled little brat of the olo’eyktan really had a crush on him. Him, of all people.
As the chiefs daughter, you were accustomed to getting what you wanted.
It wasn't even a matter of being selfish… it was just a habit at this point. Want, get, have. You were spoiled, that’s what it was. It wasn't that difficult to get.
And Lo‘ak knew difficult. Even as a son of an olo’eyktan himself, he had to struggle to get where he was. A better portion of his childhood was difficult, growing up in war, always living under his older brothers shadow. An outcast, a four fingered freak, neither really belonging to his own people nor those aliens from another star, and most definitely not to the metkayina clan. No, Lo‘ak was far from being spoiled.
So what was he supposed to do, when you approached him for the very first time, thinking that batting your pretty long lashes was enough for him to fall to your knees like everyone else would’ve? Exactly! Reject you.
The downright confused look on your beautiful, flawless face was more than just priceless to him, as you struggled to understand that for the first time in your life, you were denied to have something that you wanted.
The flower of his mischievous plan blossomed just shortly after, when you came over to his marui in the morning with freshly picked fruit for breakfast. And then again, when your offerings turned a little more… personal.
Sucking him off, down at the shore. Or when you gave him a handjob after coming back from a hunt with your brother Ao’nung. Nothing has ever fed his ego as much as having a sweet thing like you following him around, practically acting as his shadow. Obsessed, that’s what you were. You became obsessed with him, craving for attention from the one thing you couldn’t have.
And Lo‘ak loved it. The more he denied you, the more you wanted him. But the best part of it all was, when you spread your pretty, smooth, cyan legs for him.
"Look at the mess you’ve made", Lo‘ak tsks, stroking his slick covered dick right over the mound of your pussy. "Got my whole cock drenched. You‘re really that desperate, huh?"
Your chest heaves, breathing rapid, and you’re struggling to collect yourself from the intense orgasm that was so harshly ripped away from your grasp, just as it was about to shatter your whole being.
"Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak please–"
A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, as he furiously pumps his cock with one hand, while fumbling your breast with the other.
"Please, Lo’ak, please", he mocks your tone with a fake pout and then pinches your nipple, before he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He tugs on the sensitive bud, then asks sternly, "Please, what?"
"I need to come", you hiccup, your glassy eyes being a clear indication that you were actually close to sobbing from desperation. "Let me come, please. I- I was so close!"
"No."
Lo‘ak had lost count on how many times this had happened by now. How many times he had you in every possible position; bend over, under him, on top of him, laying, standing, sitting, on your knees… but he had never granted you that sweet release before. Not that he wasn’t able to, oh no. He had you on the verge of crying, eyes rolling back into your skull, with trembling legs and drool running down your chin like a fucked out little doll within minutes. But he made it his personal goal to finish first. Even if that meant for him to pull out of the delicious, wet heat that enveloped his cock, just to fuck his fist instead and spill himself onto your chest, stomach or wherever he preferred.
As unsatisfying as that might be, the sight in front of him made it all worth it. You were a mess. A begging little brat, too spoiled to handle being denied not only of his love and affection, but also of your orgasms. It was perfect.
You were just so adorable, trying to regain your composure on wobbly legs, once you realized that all that begging and pleading wouldn’t get you very far with him. And then when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and stormed off in frustration, it made it all so much better. If that was even possible.
But no matter how insanely mad he was driving you, you just couldn’t stay away from him for long. Not even when Lo’ak so bluntly teased you for your behavior, mocking your pleads, whispering them into your ear as you sat on his lap. Or when he called you spoiled, a brat, his dumb little doll so boldly in front of your friends, not caring for the way your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. It was only a matter of time for that unbearable tension in your core, an almost animalistic urge for release, to melt you from the inside out, and until you were trying to sweet talk your way back into his loincloth, unable to keep your hands to yourself.
Whatever this odd situation was, Lo‘ak was truly enjoying playing with you like this. Maybe even a little too much.
Unbeknownst to him however, you grew more frustrated with every passing day and every orgasm he robbed you of. So much so, that at one point, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore. Enough was enough, you decided.
There’s a pinch to the soft apple of his cheek that makes Lo‘ak stir awake abruptly from the little nap he had decided to take earlier.
He sighs softly. The sun was still shining bright through the leaves of a big palm tree, blinding his eyes. Lifting a hand to shield the sun away, he’s pulled up short by something around his wrists. Immediately, the fog in his mind begins to clear as he tugs on the restraints locking his arms together over his head.
Hearing your lighthearted giggle sends a wave of goosebumps all over his body, and Lo‘ak blinks a few times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, before he opens them slowly.
Lifting his head to look down on himself, he’s met with the sight of you, cyan skin glistening in the warm sunlight, kneeling between his spread thighs.
"Good morning, sleepyhead", you coo softly, but Lo‘aks ears fold themselves against his head, his eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. He then pulls against whatever is tied around his wrists again, testing the strength of his restraint. It’s tight and rough on his skin, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not yet. Whatever it is, it feels suspiciously like the woven cord of a fishing net.
They may not have been designed for this, but they still work pretty well and can also withstand a lot of force without tearing- especially like this, tying Lo’ak to a tree, with no real leverage or enough room to move his hands freely or use just an ounce of his actual strength.
And they ensure that you would get the perfect view of Lo‘ak; with his muscular thighs spread wide and his loincloth lazily hanging over his most priced possession. Just one tug on the right string and it would fall off. You couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate him like this, entirely constrained, leaving him so open and so vulnerable to whatever you would choose to do to him.
"What are you doing?", Lo‘ak huffs out a laugh, but his voice carries more than a hint of nervousness.
Again, you giggle. Scooting closer, you let your hands run over his chest, all the way up to his neck and over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He‘s already so on edge, it makes heat spread in your core.
"You know, I always get what I want, forest boy", you innocently smile up at him, dainty fingers running down over his pecks and to his waist, where his loincloth sits. "And what I want, is you."
Once untied, the neatly woven cloth falls off of him slowly and the omatikaya sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t hesitate to reach out for him, giving his already half hard cock an experimental stroke to feel him stir alive.
"But you’ve been so mean to me, Lo‘ak", you put on a fake pout and then sigh, "You leave me with no choice but to simply take what I want."
Lo‘ak‘s scoff that follows tells you more than enough.
"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take what you want, like the spoiled little brat that you are? Go on then", he grins, watching you stroke his cock until he was fully hard, standing proud and tall in your palms.
It’s cute, you think. How oblivious he is to the situation he’s in. But by Eywa, you will enjoy every second of it, truly make it up for all the times he didn’t let you come.
Lo‘ak felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen when your hand tightened just slightly around his cock. You twist your hand on the upward stroke, your thumb teasing the slit on his tip before you let him lazily thrust into your fist, just once.
Fingers sliding over his length and up the underside of his cock, you work him slowly but surely, drawing out a low moan that Lo’ak tried, but failed, to disguise as a curse, before shifting to a faster pace.
It’s no surprise to him how good you are at this. Just thinking about your heavenly handjobs had him rock hard and seeking you out during the most random times a day, thats how damn good they were.
As you let spit pool in your mouth and then dribble onto the mushroom-like tip, Lo’ak throws his head back in bliss at the new sensation, panting fast and heavy through parted lips. Your hands continue to slide down his cock to circle around the base, stroking him firmly.
"Oh fuck, that’s it. Keep going, baby, I’m close already", Lo‘ak mutters under his breath, eyes squeezed shut to focus all of his senses on the pleasure you provide. You feel his cock throb in your palms, clear droplets of pre-cum joining your spit and serving as lubricant to make your strokes become more fluidly.
"J-Just like that", he breathes out, his hips raising up to fuck into your fist, "G-Gonna come, haa– fuck, fuck!"
"Some metkayina men would kill for this, you know", you remark with a mischievous smile, "And you get it for free."
Lo‘ak doesn't respond to that, but that’s okay. You don’t expect him to. His mind is drawing blank and he begins to feel a nervous excitement, a pressure in his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe properly. Heat boils in his core and his breathing hitches when you move your hand faster, harder.
You watch his hands flex, pulling at the restraining cords around his wrists and his toes curl as he nears the edge of his climax.
"Almost there, Lo‘ak", you coo, "You’re so close aren’t you? Does it feel good, hm? You like that?"
"Yes, yes,– fuck, yes! So good, so fucking good", he moans, before lifting his head up as much as he can to watch you from his current position, already imagining how pretty you will look when he comes, spilling his cum onto your face and chest.
But the sweet bliss he was chasing so desperately was suddenly ripped away from him entirely, when both of your hands leave his cock abruptly. It causes him to gasp like you just stole the very air from his lungs.
"N-No! No, what- what are you doing!?", Lo‘ak curses, his head falling back against the soft sand. "Why did you stop?" His chest heaves and his cock visibly throbs in the air, even more pre-cum leaking from it’s tip now that it’s all swollen and purple, begging for relief.
"And here I thought I was the spoiled one", you say cheerfully, "but look at you. You’re such a mess, and all that just because I didn’t let you get what you wanted…"
Lo‘ak frowns, taking in your words, but then you move as if you’re going to touch him again, and his hips rise towards your hand, instinctively bucking up for the friction he’s been denied.
You giggle at the pathetic sight of him trying to reach your hands, simultaneously struggling against his restraints, before his body falls slack, laying back flat against the sand.
Lo‘ak tries and fails to bite back a small, heartfelt whimper of frustrated need. His cheeks are flushed bright red by now. He really looks cute when he’s frustrated like this, you think to yourself, before you actually reach down and give him a firm tug.
Another moan falls from his lips at the unexpected touch, but it soon turns into more whining when you begin to move your hand in an up and down motion, picking up the same pace where you had left earlier. Lo‘ak slowly begins to squirm underneath your touch, his abs flexing with every stroke of your palms and his thighs twitch. A thin layer of sweat makes his lean body shine in the sunlight, as your restless pace sends his mind into overdrive.
"C-Coming", he forces out between broken whimpers, "m‘coming, m‘coming!"
You feel how he stirs in your palm and right when he’s about to fall apart, you pull your hand away yet again, earning yourself a loud groan of desperation. "What the— f- ah! Fuck", he whines and curses at the loss of another orgasm, squirming when the feeling of euphoria epps away once more.
"I need to come, I really need to come", he nearly sobs when your fist closes around his shaft not shortly after. You’re barely moving now, just teasing the slit of his cock with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum over his most sensitive parts. "Don’t stop now, please. I- I was so close, baby. Please I‘m already begging, I just… Let me come this time." Your fingers ghost over his length before you properly hold him again, hand closing tight around his shaft and his hips jerk up in attempt to help him get there.
"So needy", you whisper, scooting even closer as your hand continues to pump his throbbing length. You’re close enough now that your lips brush over his jawline and he inhales a shaky breath once your face comes close to his. Lo‘aks eyes are half lidded as he stares at you, lips slightly parted before you give him the command, "Open up, pretty boy", to which he dutifully sticks his tongue out and both of your eyes follow the clear droplet of spit fall from your tongue onto his.
Humming in satisfaction, you watch him swallow, groaning at the taste, while you move your hand just a little faster. Call it a little treat for his obedience.
With your other hand now resting on his cheek, you swipe your thumb across Lo‘aks lips, wiping away a stray smear of drool, partly yours and partly his own.
"This is mine", you whisper directly into his ear, tracing the outline of his mouth, and Lo‘ak nods frantically. Kissing away his groan of frustration, you allow him to fuck into your hand for three tantalising, torturous thrusts. His tongue curls around yours, but then you pull away again. "And this", you squeeze his cock tightly, movements haltering and he whimpers, "is mine too, isn’t it?"
Lo‘ak nods for a second time, heavy-lidded and languid and just so desperate in a way he’s never been before.
"And I can do what I want with what’s mine, right?", you tilt your head playfully, amused at the sight of him lifting his head and chasing your lips for another kiss.
"Fuck. Y-Yes!", he whines when all you grant him is a little peck to his bottom lip. "Yes, you can do what you want with me, just please. Please let me come!"
Waiting for his breathing to even out, you finally begin to move your hand again. While you do so, your face nuzzles into his neck, lips tracing his jawline and then moving further up to nibble at the soft shell of his ear. His tail lashes against the ground in anticipation and soon, he’s turned into a moaning mess again. It takes significantly less time to get him close to an orgasm now, you notice. A sharp grin forms on your face as you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him properly.
"So good, feels so good", Lo’ak’s moans are more quiet now, almost a whisper, like he was scared of being caught. But you felt him pulse in your hand, and his breath hitched hard and that’s all you needed to know.
"Wait– No, no, pl-ah! Please!", Lo’aks whole body seized when the warmth of your touch leaves his cock and yet another orgasm was ruined, leaving him a trembling, cursing mess.
"Oh, c’mon", his frustrated groan immediately turns into a heartbreaking whine, once you retreat your hands entirely. Forced to watch you lick your fingertip clean of his pre-cum, he tugs against his restrains, "I- I want to fuck you, mamas, please. Wanna fuck you so bad. Just let me. I‘ll be so good for you, I’ll make you scream, yeah? I know that’s what you want. Just please. Please, please, I prom—"
"Shhh, it’s okay", you coo into his ear, calming him down enough to make him stop resisting his cuffs. "You’re gonna be good for me, yes? Gonna make me come this time?"
"Oh Eywa, yes. Yes, I- I promise", he stutters, the impatience clear in the strain of his voice, "Untie me, c‘mon, baby."
"Untie you? Oh don’t be silly, paskalin." Your giggle alone is enough to make him shudder, as if his body already knew what his mind was still struggling to process, his brows furrowing as he watched you undress.
"But I thought- I thought you wanted me to—"
"Hmh, I know what I said", you cut him off and the smile on your lips is almost too sweet to be true, "And you will make me come this time. I know it, because I’ll make sure it‘ll happen."
And then you rise up, leg slung over his chest to straddle him, and his hazy golden eyes darken with intrigue. Still, he lies motionless, waiting. Sliding closer and rising up on your knees, you smirk as Lo‘ak lifts his head just slightly, licking his lips at the sight, before falling back to the sand with a put-upon groan.
"Watch the teeth, yes?", you tease him, tracing your thumb over his pointy canine to which he rolls his eyes.
"Just- fucking sit down, sit on my face, c‘mon", he groans in response. His hips seem to have a mind on their own, because you feel them raise up and thrust into the air, his cock desperately seeking attention.
Twining a hand into his hair, you then angle his head between your legs and finally sink down over him.
A warm puff of breath, and then his tongue flicks over your folds, a tickling caress. A delicate kiss, and then he sets to work.
The quickly cooling saliva against your hot skin gives a pleasant sensation, and Lo’ak uses his tongue to part your folds. You squirm and pant beneath him, voice cracking as you attempt to voice your approval. He curves his tongue into a point, flicking and kissing at your most sensitive parts and you begin to shake above him, all needy moans and senseless affirmations, hips rocking down to meet his mouth.
Soon enough, you grind against the flat of his tongue, his nose and the upper half of his face like you’re riding a damn pali. The rest of him lies supine, but his tongue and lips move in practiced tandem, his purrs of satisfaction running through you in turn. “Hmm, just like that", you sigh, hand tightening in his braided hair, the other dropping behind you to steady yourself against his chest.
"You’re so damn delicious", Lo‘ak groans underneath you, the vibration of it sending waves of pleasure from your core all the way up your spine, your tail trashing and curling while he slurps up your slick arousal like it’s warm honey. It’s like he’s making out with your clit at one point and you can’t help but hump against his puckered lips. You throw your head back when he begins to suck rather harshly, his spine curving and twisting uncomfortably to meet your needs, but he couldn’t care less in this moment.
Normally he’s all teeth and bite, fangs grazing your skin and nipping on the inside of your thighs, sinking into your soft flesh until glossy, wet bite marks indent. Teasing you whenever you struggled to cover them up, and on some days, gladly taking a fight with Ao’nung once your loincloth moves around too much and your big brothers gaze lands on the faint marks on your inner thigh, claiming you to the forest boy that was playing with you like you’re nothing but a little doll. (Oh, how the table had turned…)
But right now he’s messy, filthy and sloppy and eating you out like he was starving. Flat nose pressed hard against your clit, he switched between tongue-fucking you and lapping at your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves like he’s aiming to make you pass out.
"Yes, fuck, there– right there!"
Lo‘ak hums in acknowledgement, and then you give a last, sharp cry, hips jerking down against his face as you fall apart on top of him. Between your thighs, you feel him groan and curse and you hear the downright obscene slurping, like he enjoys drowning in your sweet juices. You stay put for as long as your body allows, floating in the endorphin high of the long awaited orgasm you had chased and been denied for weeks now, until your legs begin to tremble and the kitten licks to your clit start to feel a little overwhelming.
Lo‘ak draws in a shuddering breath as soon as he was able to, and it turns into a moan halfway through as your hand was back on his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as you slowly lift yourself up from his now glistening face. With an equally heaving chest, the both of you look into each others eyes for a moment, panting heavily to catch your breaths.
But while your breathing slowly evens, his seems to turn more rapid. Glancing over your shoulder, your met with a sight that almost makes you feel pity if it wouldn’t look so damn hot.
His cock had leaked so much pre-cum, a small puddle had formed where he laid against his lower stomach, twitching to the rhythm of his heartbeat, the tip an angry color of purple from being edged and then completely ignored, neglected of any touch and further stimulation.
"Please", Lo‘ak heaves in a breathless whisper and you thought there was more to come, but that’s all he seemed to be capable of anymore.
Your orgasm had already drained you to the point that you felt like molten wax, limbs still twitching with the aftershocks, yet you don’t hesitate to scoot back down and straddle his lap with a glint of determination in your eyes.
It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to prepare himself, you line his cock up with your slick entrance and slam yourself down, swallowing all of his length to the base.
"F-Fu-ck", Lo‘ak chokes out, once you sit on him properly, your own body weight and gravity pulling you down further than he thought was even possible, until you were nestled snugly against him, clit kissing his pubic bone. It makes him physically shudder.
"Oh t-thank you! Fuck– thank you. You feel so good, so good", Lo‘ak wheezes, and his cock throbs vividly inside you.
Instead of a verbal response, you decide to let your body do all the talking now. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, you’re moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Lo‘aks cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you’re slamming your whole body back down, turning yourself into an equally moaning and whimpering mess.
Below you, Lo‘ak‘s eyes are squeezed shut and his toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again. But even closed, you can clearly see the tears soaking his lashes. He’s so close that it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. One, he hopes will finally grant him the orgasm he’s been clinging to like his life depended on it.
"Look", you then tell him. Like the good boy that he was, he slowly forced his eyes open, before you grab his chin with your thumb and index finger and direct his gaze to where your pussy greedily swallows him, stretched around his girth like a little sleeve made just for him to use.
"I am- Fuck! I am looking", he sobs, "You’re g-gonna make me come— please don’t stop! Please!"
Lo‘ak wants to jerk up into you so badly. He wants to break free, flip you over and pound into you, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into you. He wants to make you cry out his name, scream it for the whole village to hear, so everyone would know that the chief’s spoiled little brat was currently getting all her holes stuffed full to the brim by the outcast.
The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans and whimpers, moans so shamelessly loud, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer, that it made even himself blush.
He’s close, you could feel it. You hear it in the strain of his voice as he whimpers whatever incoherent stuff comes to his fucked out and fried brain by now.
But you’re close too. And by the great mother if you don’t make this a challenge into coming before he does, just to get your payback…
Making your hips come to an abrupt halt, you stay down against his pelvis, only rotating your hips in circles now, while switching the direction randomly.
"Oh eywa, please", he cries out", Please you– you- I can’t. I can’t take it anymore! Need to come, please move!"
But you continue to grind yourself against him, and Lo’ak feels your cunt pulse, but it’s not nearly enough. With your clit dragging against his skin, you slump forward against his chest and your whole body goes rigid with a shuddering gasp.
Lo‘ak is shuddering, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his parted lips as he begs for you to keep moving, his hips raising up and chasing the friction of your thrusts to return to him. It’s damn near torture- feeling your warm, velvety-like walls squeeze his cock, while you stay completely unmoving on top of him, coming undone without a care for him and his needs.
"C-Coming, I’m coming!", you moan into his ear, your arms encircling his neck and hold him tight as you shamelessly use him to make yourself finish.
And that’s it.
The friction alone and your barely there movements are hardly enough, would normally get him nowhere close, but as sensitive as he was right now they’re enough to make his whole body spam as he finally, finally, thank eywa, comes.
His cock is still buried deep inside your rhythmically-pulsing cunt, pumping rope after rope of his cum inside you as he sobs into the coock of your neck. Soft whimpers of thank you, thank you, thank you are muffled against your skin and it feels like forever and he’s still coming.
"That’s it, just like that. Hmm, m'feeling so warm inside", you coo softly into his ear, your voice laced with a giggle as you feel his cum seep out of your slick entrance, "You’re coming so much. What a good boy you are, filling me up like that. There you go, paskalin, don’t hold back."
You’re not entirely sure Lo‘ak even hears you by that point, but you still keep up the reassurance anyway as you carry on, determined to milk him dry. Your pelvis flexes and your walls seem to massage his cock, squeezing him empty to the last drop until another sob breaks free and tears roll down his face.
Allowing him a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, your soft hands run up and down his chest and then a sigh of incredible relief leaves his lips. It’s enough of a go-ahead for you to finally move, much to his disappointment.
Lo‘aks brows are furrows together lightly, watching with parted lips as his cock slips out of you in the process of getting up and rearranging your clothes. His tail sways lazily, softly tapping against the sand while he patiently waits for you to untie him.
It takes him a moment longer than he would like to admit, before he realizes that this is not happening the way he thought it would.
Reaching for his loincloth, you toss the piece of fabric and also his knife in its sheath next to him. Just barely near enough that he could reach it. Then, and with the biggest, smuggest grin on your face, you untie just one of his wrists.
"You can set yourself free, right?", you ask, but both of you know that’s it’s meant rhetorically. Regardless, your words don’t help ease the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, utterly confused. His mind was seemingly struggling to understand what was happening, still dizzy from the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. It was no surprise to neither of you, that he was a little short of words as he laid there, limp and spent.
Still, you shoot him a playful wink, before turning on your heels to return to the village, leaving him there like a used toy. Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you wave at him and giggle,
"See you later, my spoiled little brat."
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vandnana · 1 year
Text
Your Protector (i)
pairing: neteyam x female omaticaya reader (best friends to lovers)
summary: You and Neteyam grew up together, always knowing the feelings you had for each other, but too shy to vocalize it. But, when you leave with the Sullys to seek refuge with the metkayina people, Neteyam can’t help but finally tell you...after seeing you with Aonung
genre: fluff, *smut [at the end]
warnings: kissing, sensual scenes, jealousy
*characters are aged up*
word count: 6000+
— kinda slow burn, but definitely a lot of tension, follows the general story line with many moments between you and him 
[part 2 is here!] [part 3 (finale)]
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Neteyam. He always liked to call himself your protector and you hated it. You always told him you could protect yourself. It was one of those things that he admired about you. You could do just about anything. You were practically perfect to him. Nothing could ever change his mind about that. You were his best friend, but the pressure he felt everywhere else always stopped him from ever telling you how much he really loved you, how he sees you and no one else.
You and Neteyam were inseparable since the day you met and you thought that it would always be that way. He was the only person that made you feel courageous and shy at the same time, but you did a pretty good job hiding how you felt about him.
Until he told you that he would have to leave the forest.
“How can I stay here knowing that you are out there?” You yelled, tears falling from your eyes.
He stepped forward, yelling back at you, “Y/n, this is for the people, to protect you all. I-“ Neteyam stopped himself when you averted your eyes from him, not wanting to listen.
He took hold of your arms, but you pushed him away. “Do not touch me.”
Still, he inched closer to you, but you backed away, your tears pouring over your face, angry cries escaping from your mouth.
Seeing you cry hurt him, but Neteyam did his best to sound strong, even though the thought of leaving you broke his heart too.
“I cannot let you come with us, y/n! We are being hunted. You must stay here. It is the only way I will know you are protected. It is the only way I will know you are safe.”
You shook your head, your heart breaking as he took his steps toward you. You let yourself stand still as he approached, your hands hitting at his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.
You looked up at him, unblinking, your tone revealing your pained frustration, “Why am I the only one who should be protected? Did you ever think that perhaps I would want to protect you? I want to protect you too Neteyam. You are stupid for thinking I could ever be without you. Stupid.”
You felt out of breath after all that lay in your mind spilt out into the thick air between you. There it was. That courage you always had when you were with him, but as he stood, speechless, only looking at you, you became shy. Just like you always did.
His firm expression softened as he processed your words, his cheeks reddening, his heart racing in response to being so close to you, your foreheads almost touching, and butterflies finding a home in his stomach, whirling around as he looked at you. Butterflies had also found you, flying around as his eyes were on you, and you could not look away for that moment. Your heart matched his, rapidly pacing in your chest, the only thing separating the two of you were your hands still at his chest. You could pretend the butterflies weren’t there and you could pretend that your heart raced because you were angry. Yet, you could not hide the newfound blush that was forming on your cheeks, and once you felt the heat settling on your face, you pushed away from him, your eyes downcast.
“I am going. You cannot convince me otherwise.” You said before quickly leaving the tent, walking off to find Jake and Neytiri.
“Are you sure you want to? You can never come back here.” Jake’s expression was serious, his voice stern.
“What have you always said? Sullys stick together. The sky people killed my family. You are all I have left.” The memory was painful, but it was the truth, and Jake knew it.
Looking at Neytiri, she gave a doleful look, giving him a small nod, then turning to you, “You will come with us.”
When you and the Sullys touched down onto the Awa’atlu Village, the metkayina people surrounded you, tilting their heads at your odd appearance. They had clearly already made up their minds about you all. You were different. Foreign.
Two boys about your age approached you, Lo’ak, and Neteyam, the taller one taking hold of Lo’ak’s tail for a moment and laughing, “Is this supposed to be a tail?”
You eyed them darkly, as they looked at you, Neteyam inching closer to you as they walked by.
“Aonung, Rotxo stop it!” A gentle voice scolded. Looking over, it was a girl, their sister, you assumed.
When the chief, Tonowari, and his mate, Ronal came, the tension in the air was thick as Jake maintained his calm, pleading with the couple to give sanctuary to his family. Ronal’s hesitation worried you for a moment, but hearing Jake’s plea, they agreed to grant you refuge in their home and teach you the their ways.
“My children will teach your children how to live like us.” Tonowari proclaimed, much to Aonung’s dismay.
But, Tsireya, the chief’s daughter, smiled, motioning for all of you to follow, “Come, I will show you where you will live.”
Everyone followed, Jake taking the lead. You observed around you, in awe at how different everything was. People were casting nets out into the sea to fish, children were playing in the water beneath the walkways, and the weapons you could see were spears, not the bow and arrows you were used to, and all around, there were animals swimming peacefully.
After settling down in your hut, Tsireya guided you all toward the edge of one of the docks, starting your first lesson in the water. Her and her brothers dove into the water, Lo’ak and Neteyam following after them, then you, Kiri, and Tuk last.
While the others seemed to struggle more, you and Kiri were able to hold your own in the water almost instantly. The others swam after Tsireya and her siblings, but you stayed with Kiri, mesmerized by the creatures in the ocean. While Kiri did her usual thing, admiring the animals and plants, you simply loved how it felt to be submerged in the water, staring up at the surface, the sun creating glimmers in your surroundings.
It didn’t take long for everyone to realize the two of you had strayed off, but Tsireya was able to find the two of you quickly, and when you noticed her and the others coming, you nudged Kiri, swimming up to the surface with her.
Breaking the water, Neteyam swam to you, taking hold of your arms, his face etched with worry. “Do not scare me like that. You could have been hurt.”
“I am fine. I am not a baby.” You pushed him away lightly, your eyes bilious for a moment before softening as he continued to survey your face, making sure your weren’t hurt anywhere, “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
You and him still had not discussed what happened at the tent, so you both pretended like everything was fine, but the tension between the both of you was painfully obvious to everyone else. Lo’ak and Kiri glanced at one another, giving each other a knowing look.
Tsireya continued to teach you all, from breathwork to their sign language. Once the sun began to set, you went your separate ways. Heading back to the tent, Jake and Neytiri were on the floor, urging you all to sit and eat.
The day felt long, but you were determined to adapt, ready for whatever the next day had in store for you.
Everything was slowly becoming second nature to you as days passed. You fell into a comfortable rhythm with the others in the village, finding your way in the water, and connecting with the animals around you. Even breathing the metkayina way had become easier, but Neteyam still struggled slightly, and it was you who would help him practice.
You and Neteyam were in what you guys decided would be your spot on the island. You found it while the two of you were exploring the reef, you diving just a little too far down and Neteyam, worried beyond belief, catching up to you. There was a cave, hidden behind the giant anemones and coral, and somehow, entering it, you found that the cave itself was not submerged in water, preserving the air for you to breathe in. You and him were sitting across from each other, the pool of water that would lead you back out into the reef beside you, rippling slightly at the echoing in your voices.
“No, no you’re doing it wrong. You keep breathing from your chest. You have to slow your heart rate down and breathe from below.” You instructed, demonstrating it yourself.
“I know! I know. I’m trying. Why are you so bossy?” Neteyam replied, knowing the comment would irritate you.
“Maybe I would not be so bossy if you could do it right!” You let out in annoyance. Neteyam only laughed, amused at how easily he could get under your skin.
“You laugh now, but when you are drowning I won’t save you.” You punched him in the chest lightly, trying to keep a straight face. He had one of those laughs that made you want to laugh too.
Rolling his eyes, he scoffed, “Really? You would let your protector drown? I don’t think so.”
Annoyed, you pushed him again, “Or maybe I should just kill you now.”
He raised his eyebrows cockily, and again, you brought your hands up to hit him, but he dodged, grabbing your arms instead. Using all your body weight, you drove him back, sending him downward on the ground with you on top of him. The action caught him off guard and he let go of your arms and taking the chance, you pinned him down.
“It is just too easy.” You let out, a satisfied grin on your face. “Fine, fine you win.” Neteyam muttered. He was about to sit up, but you moved ever so slightly on top of him, making his breath hitch. He looked away from you, feeling his whole body heat up.
You mistook his actions, laughing maniacally, “Don’t tell me you are out of breath from just that?” You teased, putting your head on his chest, the sound of his heart beat rapidly beating against your ear.
“And your heart is beating so fast too.” You continued, bringing your head back up to look at him, but as you did, you realized your closeness, bringing a scarlet hue to your cheeks. You hadn’t been this close since the day at the tent.
Your gaze only made things worse for Neteyam, his tail raising underneath him at the movement, making him sit up quickly, taming it down before it brushed against you.
His face was red now, and with a frustrated sigh, he finally looked at you, “Of course my heart is beating fast. I’m with you.”
When the words spilled out of his mouth, he instantly regretted it. This was not how he wanted to tell you how he felt. His words came out too messily and he was ashamed.
You blinked at him, that shyness revealing itself again, his words stirring butterflies in your stomach.
“What do you mean?” You whispered softly, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.
You spoke again, leaning forward and placing your hand on his chest, “Neteyam, tell me.”
Clearing his throat, he spoke, trying to sound confident, “We should get going. I should go check on the others, make sure they are not causing trouble.”
You knew that was a lie.
You got up and he followed suit, still avoiding your eyes, “Neteyam—“But, he didn’t speak another word, only managing a weak smile at you, pretending he wasn’t bothered.
When you got back to the village, Neteyam said goodbye to you, hastily walking away. You followed him though, practically running through village. You were so focused on catching him you didn’t notice Kiri calling your name.
Grabbing your arm, she finally caught your attention, sensing the panic in your body language. “Y/n what’s wrong?” She asked, concern painted in her eyes.
“It’s Neteyam. He’s acting weird and I don’t know why. He just… ran away from me.” You explained, putting your hand on your head as you tried to piece together what happened.
Kiri rubbed your back, “I’m sure everything’s fine. You know Neteyam. Sooner or later he’ll tell you what’s on his mind. Especially if it’s you. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
You nodded at her words, taking a deep breath. “Why don’t we go into the water before dinner. It will be a good distraction.You smiled, nodding as she took your hand and led you to shore.
You planned on diving into the water but Kiri noticed something in the sand and as if she was entranced, she laid down, “Come, (y/n) look!”
Submerging her head in the water, she fixed her eyes on one spot and taking a breath, you did too, lying on your stomach across from her.You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at, but you stayed with Kiri, observing what was in front of you intently. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the sound of voices made you lift your head out of the water.
It was Aonung and three other boys. You rolled your eyes, “What do you want?”
Kiri finally lifted her head, confused as to what was going on.
Aonung kept a vile smirk on his face, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you. “Nothing, we just wanted to see what the two freaks were doing.”
You grabbed Kiri’s hand and began walking to the shore, turning your head toward the boys, “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.” You spat back, Kiri laughing at your response.
The comment clearly angered them all as they stomped behind you, Aonung gabbing Kiri’s arm as a retaliation.
“Hey, get your hands off her!” You yelled, but he only laughed, his eyebrows raised slyly.
From the way you were balling up your fists, Kiri could tell you were beyond pissed now, taking hold of your arm to pull you away, “Come on y/n let’s go.”
You could have listened, but instead you threw a punch that caught Aonung off guard. Aonung and the rest of his boys stepped forward, but Lo’ak and Neteyam appeared to finish the fight, Lo’ak throwing another punch and Neteyam jumping in to help. Eventually, one of the men of the village noticed, breaking up the fight and sending you back to Jake.
As the three of you approached the hut, Jake turned to you, his face disappointed.
Neteyam watched his father, stepping forward, “This is my fault sir.”
“No it’s not. You gotta stop taking the blame for this knucklehead,” pointing at Lo’ak who looked away. “Go apologize. I don’t care how you do it.”
“But dad!—“ Lo’ak protested, but you stepped forward.
“Do not blame your sons. This is my fault, Jake. Aonung called Kiri a freak so I punched him first. It is me who should apologize.” You admitted, looking down at your feet.
“I expect this from these two, but not you y/n. You should know better. You both go apologize.” Jake scolded, his tone clearly frustrated.
You and Lo’ak nodded your heads before walking out of the hut.Lo’ak groaned, “Ugh. I can’t believe we have to say sorry to him.”
You slung your arm over his shoulder, “Let’s just get it over with, okay?” You gave him a reassuring look, which seemed to make him relax.
Appearing next to you, Neteyam slung his arm around your other shoulder, “Hey, you okay?”
You leaned the boys’ heads toward yours, hugging them both before grabbing their ears and pinching.
“Ow! Ow! Y/n that hurts!” Neteyam whined, his brother echoing the same cry.
“You guys are such a pain in my ass.” You lamented, before finally letting go.
“You’re the one who punched him first!” Lo’ak complained.
“Yes, but who came in and kept punching?” You retorted, the two of them avoiding your gaze.
You chuckled, “Thank you for doing that. It was stupid, but… you guys looked cool.”
Neteyam scoffed cockily, “Of course we did.” You glanced over at Neteyam, his mouth formed in a satisfied grin.
“Well, come on,” You motioned over to Lo’ak, “let’s go apologize.” You huffed.
“Y/n, wait” Neteyam called, grabbing your hand, you turned, your eyebrows raised expectantly.
Clearing his throat, he spoke, “When you come back, I have to tell you something.”
You nodded, “Wait for me at our spot, okay?”
Letting go of your hand reluctantly, he agreed, waving to you as you both walked away.
“I’m sorry I hit you. So many times.” Lo’ak apologized, and you reluctantly said sorry too, trying not to look indifferent. The boys looked at one another before accepting his apology.
You motioned for Lo’ak to follow you, but Aonung did something you did not expect.
“So what do you say? We are going hunting. Outside the reef. It is where the men hunt. Are you coming?” Aonung coaxed, glancing over at the other boys mischievously.
“No way. I’m not allowed.” Lo’ak said, starting to guide his ilu toward you.
Calling out, Aonung struck a nerve in Lo’ak, “I must be talking to the wrong brother then.”
Without any hestiation, Lo’ak turned around, “Let’s do it.”
You grabbed him, sensing something wrong, you gave Lo’ak a warning look, “Lo’ak, let’s go.”
He pushed you away, swimming after Aonung and the boys. Groaning, you looked back at the village before diving to follow them.
When you had reached Three Brothers Rocks, you dove after the boys, watching as Aonung began to swim up to the surface.
“What are you doing?” You hissed, your expression dark. Saying nothing, they only laughed, taking off on their ilus, leaving you and Lo’ak to the boundless ocean.
Not long after, Lo’ak surfaced, confused to find only you in the water, “Where are they?”
“Gone.” You flared, trying to calm yourself down as anger set its threshold in you.
Hopping on your ilus, you began to swim back, but a force from underneath the water sent you and Lo’ak flying, off of your ilu and back into the depths. As the water settled around you, you could finally see what had sent you back, a creature, intent on killing you both. You and Lo’ak glanced at one another quickly before swimming toward the coral, taking refuge in its labyrinth. The creature charged, biting the coral to get to you, but you continued to move inward. When it reached a point that it could not break, the creature retreated briefly, giving you a moment to calm yourself to control your breath.
You looked at Lo’ak, but you could tell he was panicking and you grabbed hold of him gently to reassure him. It seemed to work, but you knew he had reached his threshold of breath. You urged him upward quickly, hoping that the creature would not come back. Freeing yourself from the coral, you reached the open water, continuing to push him up. But, the creature had waited for you, turning its body to face the two of you. Grabbing your knife, you held it up, bringing Lo’ak behind you, but your chance to use it never came as another animal came, charging and killing the creature.
A tulkun.
Suddenly, you felt Lo’ak’s body go limp behind you, and you caught him, holding him as you approached the surface. The tulkun swam underneath you, taking you to the surface on its fin.
Once you broke the water, you breathed in deeply, turning Lo’ak over and pushing on his stomach, expelling the water trapped in his lungs.He coughed violently, before sitting up. Taking in his surroundings, unsure if he was alive or not.
“We survived.” You breathed, “Thanks to this tulkun.”
Its clicks sounded through the air in response and you smiled, looking into its eye, you signed, “Thank you for saving us.”
Lo’ak signed too, stroking above its eye.“Hey, look.”
You slid off its fin, observing the harpoon stuck in its flesh. Lo’ak gave an apologetic expression, his eyes sad from the sight. The two of you took it out, and the tulkun clicked radiantly as a thank you.
You were intrigued by the tulkun, watching as Lo’ak signed to the creature. You smiled as you watched him make a connection with it, but as you waded longer in the water, a stinging pain began to burn on your back.
“Agh—“ You hissed, pushing your hair away to reveal a large cut across your back. Seeing the cut, Lo’ak’s eyes widened, “We need to get you back to the village,” Turning, Lo’ak faced the tulkun, “Please take us to the village.”
As you swam, the salt water burned into your wounds, but you were able to bear it, gritting your teeth when the pain would intensify. The tulkun stopped at the edge of the village, and you both said goodbye to your new friend.
It was Neteyam who figured out you were both missing. When you didn’t show up at your guys’ spot, he knew there was something wrong. One of the warriors surveying the water caught sight of the two of you, taking you on the back of their boat to the edge of the docks where everyone was waiting.
When you saw Aonung, your expression was vicious, hissing at him as Lo’ak was readying himself to fight again, but Jake pushed the both of you back and Neytiri approached the two of you angrily. Your disdain was fixed on your face until you saw Neteyam, who could only apologize for not being there, his eyebrows furrowed in deep shame.
Jake and Neytiri scolded their son, apologizing for Lo’ak in front of Tonowari, but he refused. Tonowari knew Aonung knew better than to take Lo’ak outside the reef, and urged that it was his son to blame.
You felt relieved hearing this, but that feeling vanished once Lo’ak spoke.
“No sir. This is my fault. Aonung tried to talk me out of it, but I didn’t listen.” Lo’ak lied.
“Lo’ak!” You piped in disbelief.
Jake sighed, taking Lo’ak by the arm and Neteyam turned his attention to you, helping you up onto the dock. You and him walked forward, but a sudden shot of agonizing pain surged through you, your vision fading to black as your mind began to shut off, “Neteyam.” Your voice breathy and weak as he looked over at you, catching your body as you fell, your mind finally sending you into darkness.
When you finally awoke, you were lying down in a hut you had never been in before, the sun shining on your face as you opened your eyes. The pain in your back was gone and you took a deep breath in.
“You’re awake! She’s awake! She’s awake!” You heard, looking over to find Tuk beside you.
Then suddenly, the Sully children gathered around you, relief washing over their faces as you sat up.
Neteyam who had been standing in front of the hut rushed to you, kneeling and taking your hand in his, “I am so happy you are alright,” He beamed, smiling at you.
You beamed back, quickly repositioning yourself to hug him, sending him backward onto the ground.
“Okay. Barf. I’m leaving.” Lo’ak said, rolling his eyes at the two of you before walking out of the hut, Kiri and Tuk following after him.
You paid no mind to Lo’ak, your attention focused on Neteyam. You were not sure how long you had been unconscious, but it must have been agonizing for him, and the thought of him being in such pain caused you heartache. You leaned into his ear, your voice quiet as you spoke, “I am sorry for worrying you again.”
Your breath on his ear sent an instant flush to his body, concentrating at his cheeks, painting them a shade of pink. He gulped, trying to calm himself down. With you still on top of him, he sat himself up, never taking his eyes off you.
Sheepishly, he shook his head, “No, do not apologize. I am just…” he paused, taking a second to study your face admiringly, “I am just happy that you are alright.”
You laughed, standing up and holding your hand for him to take, “You already said that.”
He took your hand lifting himself up, sighing as he now stood, “Even at a time like this, you love to tease me.”
“Of course. I was knocked out for a while. I must make up for the lost time.” You joked, earning a laugh from him.
You guys stayed in a comfortable silence before you remembered the conversation you had before you left.
“Neteyam, before…you said you wanted to tell me something.”
“Right…” He began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “Y/n, I wanted to tell you…”
You stepped forward, looking at him expectantly, “Yes?” He took your hand, gulping as he tried to piece the words together in his mind, “I wanted to tell you I—“
“Y/n.”
At the sound of your name, you pulled away from Neteyam, looking over at where the voice had come from.
Seeing who the voice belonged to you rolled your eyes. “What do you want Aonung?”
“I-I— can I talk to you for a second?” Neteyam looked your way, tilting his head as he wondered what you were going to do.
You let a breath in, “Fine, fine. Let’s talk.”
You walked toward the entrance of the hut, but Neteyam put a hand on your shoulder, “If you do not want to talk to him, you do not have to.”
“Who said I was going to talk to him? Maybe I’ll just hit him.” You grunted, giving him a reassuring look.
Neteyam knew what you meant, giving Aonung a warning look before exiting the hut.
When Aonung stepped inside, you could feel your anger returning to you as you looked at him, but you did you best to hold it in, “What do you want to say?”
“I am sorry. For treating you the way I did and for what happened to you.” His head was downcast, and seeing that annoyed you.
“If you want to apologize to someone properly, look them in the eye.” You hissed, placing your hand on his chin, you forced his gaze.
You expected him to be smirking like he usually did, but he wasn’t. His expression was, for the first time, apologetic.
“I’m sorry. I mean it. I-I really am.” It was all he could find himself to say, keeping his eyes locked on yours.
You studied him for a moment, still in disbelief. “It is hard for me to accept your apology, but for the sake of peace, I will.”
Outside, Neteyam watched you and him from a distance, wondering what conversation the two of you could be having for you to hold his chin the way that you were. He could feel a sense of unease rise within him as he watched.
“What are you doing?”
Jumping, Neteyam turned around to find it was only his younger brother, his face curious.
Looking back at the hut, Neteyam grunted coolly, “Nothing.”
Following his gaze, Lo’ak smirked seeing you and Aonung in the hut, “Are you jealous big bro?”
“I am not. Me? Jealous? Of him? No way.” He replied defensively.
“Really?” Lo’ak glanced again behind his brother, turning him around, “So that doesn’t bother you at all?”
Aonung stepped closer to you, putting his hand out, “Friends?” Aonung said.
You grabbed hold of his arm, “Friends.”
Neteyam gulped, but did not want to give Lo’ak the satisfaction of being right, “They are probably just making up. That does not means anything.”
Lo’ak, amused, continued to joke, “You better hurry up bro. He’s already making moves on her.”
“Shut up.” Hitting his brother on the shoulder, scowling.
“What’s happening?”
It was Kiri with Tuk by her side. Lo’ak couldn’t resist making fun of his brother again.“
Neteyam’s jealous because Aonung is talking to y/n.”
“I am not!” Neteyam protested.
“Come on, just admit it.” Lo’ak nudged, sparking another flow of arguments between the boys.
“This is so stupid.” Kiri said, rolling her eyes.
Tuk, who only caught ins and outs of the conversation, only really cared when she heard your name and had also caught sight of you at the same time.
“Oh look it’s y/n! She’s about to get in the water. Come on, Kiri, let’s go to her!” Tuk begged, latching onto her sister’s arms, running to where you and Aonung were.
The boys had finally stopped arguing, Neteyam running with his sisters in an attempt to catch you, but you and Aonung were already in the water with your ilus, swimming fast and far from them. Aonung had challenged you to a race and you couldn’t help but accept.
Neteyam was about to jump in the water too, but Kiri stopped him, “My god, you really are jealous. You’re really going to follow her?”
Neteyam scoffed, “That doesn’t mean I’m jealous.”
But even he knew that what he was saying was a lie, his siblings groaning at his response.
They elected to wait for you on the shore, Tuk running quickly, urging her siblings to hurry up, Neteyam trudging behind everyone.
Aonung was fast, catching up to you as you distanced yourselves from the village, but you were determined to win and as Aonung approached, tailing your ilu, you had built up enough momentum to shoot forward toward victory.
Disconnecting from your ilu, you got out of the water, a satisfied grin plastered on your face. The minute the Sullys saw you emerge from the water, they made their way over, Tuk running to you excitedly.
“Guess who just beat Aonung in an ilu race?” You said to her playfully, picking her up and spinning her. She giggled, sticking her tongue out.
Aonung stepped forward, scowling, “That was just beginner’s luck.”
“Maybe, but you still lost. You should not have triggered my competitiveness.” You sneered, putting Tuk down.
Lo’ak and Kiri gathered around you, proudly whooping as you approached, but Neteyam stood behind you all, his arms crossed, eyeing Aonung as he stood beside you, too close for his liking.
“I want a rematch.” He challenged.
But you shook your head at him, “I must refuse. I would not want to embarrass you a second time.”
At closer glance, you suddenly looked different to Aonung. The sun was reflecting off of you, your wet skin glistening, your smile radiating as you continued to tease him in front of everyone. You looked pretty to him.
He wanted to keep being around you, staring as the newfound thought stained his cheeks with a faint blush, a sudden confidence taking over him, “If you won’t race with me again, then go for a dive with me instead.” Holding out his hand to you, he nudged for you to take it.
Seeing this, Neteyam uncrossed his arms, his eyes shot at you as he waited for your response, hoping you would refuse.
You looked at his hand, then at him, tilting your head.
“Right now?” You asked, and he nodded eagerly.
Not waiting for your answer, he took your hand anyway, leading you toward the ocean, “Come on.”
“Wait, Aonung—“ You began, but you were interrupted as Neteyam came up beside you, pulling you closer to him, breaking you away from Aonung’s grasp.
Calling his ilu, he sat you in front of him, telling you to hold your breath before taking off, leaving everyone on the shore stunned.
Aonung watched as the two of you disappeared and once everyone processed everything, Lo’ak patted Aonung’s shoulder. “Sorry man, you never stood a chance.”
You were facing Neteyam as he rode, watching him as he concentrated on where he was going, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly pursed. You looked at your surroundings, recognizing familiar structures of coral, and you smiled. You knew where he was taking you.
When you arrived at the entrance of your spot, Neteyam disconnected from his ilu, taking your hand and leading you into your cave. Breaking water, you both took a breath, his hand still in yours, you tightened your grip around it, causing him to look at you. You swam toward the edge of the pool, pulling him with you, the two of you pulling yourselves out of the water.
You took his hands into yours, feeling the heat in you rising and the butterflies in your stomach coming back to you, fluttering quietly as you waited for him to say something.
But Neteyam stood, speechless, looking at you, admiring you. He owed you so much, but did not know what to say, too abashed by the feelings that arose every time the two of you were this close.
“Why did you do that?” You asked softly, caressing his hand. But you felt you knew the answer. You just hoped that what you felt was true.
“I didn’t like it.” He let out nervously, your confused expression begging for him to say more.
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you, how we was holding your hand. I-I hated it.” His head was downcast, ashamed at such childish feelings.
You took one of his hands up, placing it on your chest where your heart was. The movement made him look at you, his mouth open in surprise and the familiar heat in his face intensifying.
“Do you feel how my heart beats?” It was beating fast and was only growing in pace as Neteyam kept his soft gaze on you.
He nodded, looking at you with a dreamy smile, which you happily returned.
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling as his heart beat matched yours, “My heart beats like this because of you.”
You let go of him, turning away. It was only when you did this that Neteyam realized just how your warmth affected him, how cold it would suddenly feel when you weren’t beside him.
”But, you must choose me, Neteyam. There are many women, all beautiful women for you to choose.”
Neteyam shook his head, approaching your turned back, his voice confident, “I do not want another woman. I only want you, y/n.”
Instantly, you faced him, smiling brightly, taking his hands into yours again, returning the warmth around him, around the both of you. It wasn’t a feeling that Neteyam wanted to let go of.
He leaned in, pressing his lips against yours, letting go of your hands and instead taking hold of your waist, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer. As you wrapped your arm around his neck, you felt his tail brush against your leg, the movement slow, loving. You let out a slight moan, making Neteyam only deepen the kiss. The heat between the two of you burned with every movement, Neteyam lowering your bodies to the ground, taking hold of one of your legs as you wrapped it around him.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you laid together, but once you pulled away, the two you let silence fill the cave, your foreheads touching as you embraced. Neteyam grabbed his queue from behind him, and you leaned back, watching as he brought it in front of you.
“I see you.”
You brought your queue in front of you, looking at him before making the bond.
“I see you.”
When you felt the bond, your entire being connected with his, every sensation between the two of you charging as the amorous look in his eyes sent your heart into a frenzy. Neteyam, still with his forehead to yours, kissed your cheek before letting his lips explore every part of you. You closed your eyes with every touch, the core of you reaching a new state of bliss. Returning, Neteyam brought his lips to yours again and you savored the feeling, another wave of heat ready to burst in you. You reached down, and Neteyam pulled away, his look unsure, but you nodded reassuringly, bringing his head back down to connect your lips once more. There was nothing between you now, the little space that you once had now gone as Neteyam pushed into you, his movements passionate and loving. Your hand was at his back, the other clutching his hair as he kept going. The closeness between you and the love you could feel conjured up tears in your eyes, a moan escaping your mouth at every motion, your toes curling as the momentum continued, building and building until finally you both reached your bliss.
Pulling away breathlessly, Neteyam looked at you again, and not being able to contain how happy he was, smiled warmly at you before peppering your cheeks with kisses.
You giggled, lifting yourself up, him holding onto you. still, your tails curling around each other.
“So, this was how you felt… all this time?” You asked innocently, only wanting him to hear him say it one more time.
Taking your cheek in his hand, a mischievous smile took over his lips, “If it wasn’t clear…I can show you again.” His eyes suggestive as he raised his eyebrows.
You rolled your eyes at him, lifting your arm to punch him lightly, but he grabbed it, pulling you in for another kiss. You relaxed under his grasp, but gently pulled away.
“You can’t just kiss me now every time you say something stupid.” You tried to sound firm, but your heart was turning to mush by the second.
He leaned in, kissing your cheek gently before resting his head on the crook of your neck.
“I am yours now, y/n. All my kisses belong to you now, so I have to deliver.”
“Hmm… I don’t know, I think I’m still gonna go for a dive with Aonung after this.” You teased, he lifted his head, looking at you in disbelief.
“Don’t even joke about that.” His voice serious, as you put a hand to your mouth, trying not to laugh.
“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’m yours, okay? I’m yours.”
[part 2!]
11K notes · View notes
monzabee · 2 months
Text
mr. big (social media au) - cs55
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, your boyfriend, Carlos.
Pairing: carlos sainz x romance writer!reader (model used: random people i found on pinterest)
Warnings: none other than some cursing? carlos being an old money dream as always
Request: "For a smau, would love to see romance writer!reader with Carlos (he is just Disney prince vibes) where fans aren’t quite sure how they got together but the influence him on her work is greatly appreciated" by my lovely @percervall
Author note: OKAY JUST REALISED I AM A CARRIE AND BIG APOLOGIST, WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT (i might be freaking out about them, but i will always be a charlotte girl)!!! (might honestly turn it into a series because who doesn't love a satc x old money crossover???)
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
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Liked by carlossainz55, yourbestfriend, readersdigest and 438,927 others.
yourusername: busy, busy, busy bee.
user: thank you mother for feeding us with another hot billionaire novel
yourusername: you are more than welcome
user: how is she not only one of the best romance authors, but also a fashion icon??
user: can't wait to read what carlos inspired this time!!
carlossainz55: you are not wearing you glasses again, cariño
yourusername: why don't you come put them on yourself??
user: oh, they are so cute it's sickening
user: GIVE US THE MANUSCRIPT AND END OUR SUFFERING
view all 2,387 comments.
user: how did they get together again??
user: i think he ran into her at one of her book signings in madrid?
user: i thought it was when she went to the paddock for some good old r&d?
user: i heard somewhere that a friend set them up
yourusername posted a new story!
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carlossainz55 posted a story!
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yourusername
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Liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, goodreads and 682,928 others.
yourusername: life lately & "between love and loathing" out june 23rd.
user: we love the romantic getaway, and a new book!!
user: we're being fed in more ways than one, and i am not complaining at all!!
user: oh shit, we're about to read the best romance novel of all time
view all 13,726 comments.
carlossainz55: i'm so proud of you, you have no idea
yourusername: way to make me cry
yourusername: i love you though
carlossainz55: te quiero más
user: I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ARE THE OLD MONEY COUPLE WE NEEDED ALL ALONG AND WE DON'T KNOW HOW THEY STARTED DATING
user: it will remain forever a mystery
user: but at least we have content to keep us going through these hard times
carlossainz55
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Liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 977,520 others.
carlossainz55: one of us made the pancakes, and one of us stood there looking pretty.
yourusername: hey, it was your turn to make breakfast
carlossainz55: and i loved every second of it
yourusername: even doing the dishes?
carlossainz55: especially doing the dishes
user: this is by far the most romance book thing this man has done
user: i still don't understand how they started dating, but good for them i guess
view all 35,726 comments.
landonorris: hey, i didn't get any pancakes, did you? @charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc: didn't even know we were having pancakes, where are our pancakes @carlossainz55
landonorris: and cooking in a towel?? how is that sanitary??
charles_leclerc: he's breaking at least a dozen health codes
carlossainz55: i hate you both
yourusername: you are all a pr nightmare
scuderiaferrari: i agree
user: damn he got lucky
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Liked by f1wagss, carlossainz55, sarahjessicaparker and 736,928 others.
yourusername: and there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, carlos sainz.
user: SHUT UP!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!
user: what kind of an iconic cunt slay is this
user: and just like that... they became the coolest couple on the internet
user: NEW NOVEL IDEA, SEX AND THE CITY RETELL WITH CARLOS
user: girl wtf
yourusername: no let her cook
yourusername: you might be onto something here
user: don't know if i want to be her or be carlos
view all 44,736 comments.
user: everybody say thank you mom for blessing us
carlossainz55: amor
yourusername: amor x2
user: oh she's working overtime god bless you
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1K notes · View notes
neil-gaiman · 2 months
Note
Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
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Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
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muwapsturniolo · 5 months
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✯FreshLove for the Fit✯
pt1
Summary: Y/N decides to DM Chris after receiving threats and things start to escalate between the two.
Warnings: NSFW content, swearing, mentions of jerking off, titties are mentioned, dildos, masturbation.
✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯
Y/N was dying of laughter.
Two days ago, one of her favorite content creators decided to go on a spam spree and like all of her posts. She was confused, to say the least, then she became flattered.
Now here she is, full-on cackling as she reads the hate comments she's receiving.
12-year-old girls' calling her all types of names and sending death threats, all because Chris Sturniolo was most likely jerking off to her?
It's hilarious.
She starts laughing even harder when she realizes Chris unfollowed her and unliked all of her posts.
She decides to mess with him a little bit and sends a DM on Instagram
Y/I/N
yo, your fans are cray asf. you need to tell them to leave me tf alone.
Chris's heart dropped when he saw the notification. Y/N was DM'ing him? He hesitantly clicks on the notification and his mouth runs dry when he sees what she said.
He felt like shit.
He isn't dumb, he saw what some of the fans were saying to her online. He thought it was crazy they were sending death threats to her because he was horny and dumb. He decides to respond back.
Christophersturniolo
i feel like shit for the stuff they are saying to and about you. it's not fair at all and I'm sorry.
Y/I/N
LMAO, im playing with you. ion care about these little ass girls. they mad at me because you were horny and jerked your shit to me. shit is funny.
Chris can't help but sigh, and laugh in relief. He really didn't want Y/N to be mad at him.
Christophersturniolo
fuck you had me scared. I'm glad you're handling this well though.
Y/I/N
lmao, i can handle myself very well thank you
Chris finds himself being bold behind a screen.
Christophersturniolo
i like the way you handle yourself.
Y/N smiles and turns onto her stomach, kicking her feet as if she's a schoolgirl texting her crush.
Y/I/N
so i take it you like my content?
She knows he likes it, but she wants to see him admit it. Y/N was a bit cocky, she knows she's pretty as fuck, has a nice body, and that her content is one of the best.
She just likes hearing people say it.
Christophersturniolo
love it actually
Y/I/N
tell me what you love about it.
Christophersturniolo
i love that you wear my brand as your getting off. the way you tweak your nipples through the shirts as you shove the dildo into yourself, chasing an orgasm. i love the way your moans are soft yet so loud at the same time. Don't get me started on your thighs, id love to be in between them all day.
Both of them are staring at their phones, bodies shaking as they take deep breaths. this conversation took a turn none of them were expecting.
Chris can't believe he's talking to a CamGirl who could actually expose this whole conversation.
Y/N can't believe she's even talking to Chris. Hell, she barely has wrapped her head around the fact he enjoys her content.
Christophersturniolo
what would you say if i wanted you to call me
Y/I/N
i would tell you to check my stories tab for prices.
Not even five minutes later, Y/N gets a cash app notification for $200 with the message
"FT me and wear FreshLove."
There's a phone number attached and Y/N is shocked. Her FT prices are only $130 but he sent $200.
She copies the number before pasting it into the Facetime log and pressing the call button.
It rings three times before Chris picks up.
"They look good," both of them think to themselves.
Chris is wearing a pink hoodie that makes Y/N go feral on the inside. Pink is one of her many favorite colors and to see him looking so good laid out in it, she's clenching her legs. It doesn't help that his camera angle is low. She wonders if that's what he would like while his dick is in her throat.
Y/N is in fact wearing FreshLove just like Chris asked (it was more so a demand but that's not the point), and he's trying to contain himself. It was obvious the pink shirt may be a size too small considering it was hugging her chest tightly, allowing her pierced nipples to peak through. His mind is running wild as he imagines fucking her while she's decked out in his brand.
"Hi,"
Chris is shocked when he hears the tone of her voice. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't expect something so soft and dainty. No wonder her moans sound the way they do.
"Hey..." Chris responds.
"What did you want to call for?" for some reason, Chris is too shy to admit the real reason he wanted to call. How do you tell a girl you only wanted to Facetime, in hopes she fucks herself on her pink dildo so he can jerk off.
"I don't know."
Y/N tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, "I think you know you're just too scared to say it." Her words are taunting,
Chris doesn't like it.
"Not scared to admit anything. I just figured you wouldn't like me telling you to go ahead and grab that pink dildo and fuck yourself for me. I was raised to be a gentleman after all." Chris smirks seeing Y/N get shy. Although her skin is brown, he can tell there's a faint reddish tint to them.
He keeps going, "Don't act all shy, like you don't post yourself online doing the same thing. After all that is how I found you."
Y/N likes being degraded. It's one of the many kinks she has.
"But I won't have you do that, I want to get to know you first."
Y/N is shocked. usually, when she does these calls, the guys automatically demand that she strip and start playing with herself. Although this whole interaction will be transactional, it's a breath of fresh air for her.
The call continues, both of them laughing and talking for more than an hour. The conversations jump from topic to topic. One minute they are talking about music (Y/N was shocked when Chris hadn't heard of Jorja Smith), favorite foods, and movies.
Suddenly Y/N asks a question that's been on her mind, " Why did you send $200 when the price was $130?"
"Because I wanted to" he answers so quick and nonchalantly, it surprises Y/N.
"But you didn't have to, especially if we didn't do anything sexual." When Y/N looks back at her phone, she sees a smirk made its way across Chris's face.
"I have a proposition for you."
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i actually hate this so much but i did want to put out a second chapter 😭 let me know if yall like it or what you want to happen. im very open to suggestions!!!
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cometkenji · 2 months
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killshot, baby
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Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM
As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 
You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 
“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.
“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 
“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.
Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”
“If?” 
You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 
“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.
The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 
“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”
“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”
“Is this about an unsub?” 
“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.
“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”
“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 
She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.
“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.
“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”
“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 
“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”
“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.
– 
The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.
“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.
“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”
That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 
“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 
“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 
The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?
Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.
– 
The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.
“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.
“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 
You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”
He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”
“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”
He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”
Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”
He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”
You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”
The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 
You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.
“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.
“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 
You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 
“I can watch him.” 
Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.
You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”
He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 
“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.
Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 
“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?
Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 
He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”
You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 
You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 
Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 
Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.
Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.
“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.
You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 
He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”
“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 
“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”
You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”
He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”
Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.
He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”
“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”
You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 
Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.
– 
That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He’d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.
He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 
A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.
“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 
“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”
“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.
“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”
Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”
“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 
In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.
“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.
The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 
The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 
“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”
He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.
Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”
He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 
“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 
“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.
He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”
“White.”
He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”
He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 
You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”
He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”
You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.
He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”
You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”
That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”
He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”
Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”
Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.
“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.
Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.
You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?
The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 
You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 
He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.
You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 
The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”
You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 
“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 
“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”
Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.
“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”
“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 
“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”
“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”
“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”
Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.
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onlyswan · 7 months
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summary: in which jungkook loves to see you smile and you are the god of mischief.
idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff / word count: 2.6k
content/warnings: mention of childhood insecurity, mention of biting during s*x, jk is very touchy, they watch a movie and the guard thinks they’re doing sumn nasty bc they’re both a menace honestly 😭, jk accidentally bites his lower lip and bleeds
> in which masterlist!
note: hi !! this is a repost of a drabble i wrote two (?) years ago but accidentally deleted lololol so if you’ve read it before that’s why! but this is now an edited version with a new title <3
“baby,”
jungkook calls your attention out of nowhere, pausing the movie playing on the tablet you’re holding. the frown painted on his face is difficult to miss.
“i have a question.”
“so randomly?” you raise an eyebrow. “ask me then.”
“why do you cover your face when you’re happy?”
the wide-eyed look of genuine curiosity on his face is identical to yesterday’s, when he asked you what the word ineffable meant after hearing it in a song.
the question prompts you to take a glance at the screen, where a sophisticated woman has a hand over her mouth as she giggles with her elite acquaintances about an old but classic rich husband joke.
“it’s not that it bothers me, i just- i’ve noticed it lately and i-i wish to see you smiling and laughing more freely, you know?” he tries his best to choose his words carefully, offering you a kind smile as he lovingly caresses your head. “it makes me happy when i see you happy.”
“oh,” you blink at him, mind going blank as you attempt to form an answer in your head. his touch isn’t exactly helping you either— you just want to melt into him and not think of anything at all, float on cloud-nine and stay there forever.
however, seeing as he asked you the question out of the blue, he must’ve been thinking about it a lot. you’ve only been dating for a few months, so it’s understandable for him to eagerly seek the answers to his curiosities and observations. if anything, it feels nice to learn he gives this much attention to you— possibly notices things you don’t even know about yourself. for a split second the thought crosses your mind, that beyond a consciousness, you are tangible and real.
“it’s a habit i guess? when my teeth were falling out for the first time as a kid, i became insecure, so i decided that i’d just smile without showing my teeth from then on. like this.”
you demonstrate by lifting up the corners of your lips.
“and yeah-”
as if he’s helplessly pulled by the magnet of attraction, he leans down to kiss you and interrupt your sentence.
“i’d cover my face when i couldn’t contain my smile or laugh. and even when they grew back, it felt weird. like my smile didn’t belong to my face? if that even makes sense.”
“yah, that’s not true! you’re very pretty whether you’re smiling, or crying and-” his warm hand cups your cheek, and he stupidly grins as he’s about to say something cheesy. “even when you’re just breathing.”
the corners of your lips rise again. this time, it’s genuine.
“oh? how romantic.” you scrunch your nose cutely, and his heart flutters.
you hold onto his wrist, revelling in the way his thumb softly traces shapes on your skin.
“i’m over that, though. it was so long ago. i don’t think about it obsessively anymore at least. it’s really just a habit i haven’t gotten rid of.” you reassure him, meaning every word that you say.
we all have our secrets and fears that we keep only to ourselves, that much is understood between the two of you. there are circumstances in which withholding information is necessary. however, the one big promise you made to each other is to never lie. honesty and trust. ease and consolation. every word, every syllable hanging from your lips an addition to the naked history of your love. passed down stories. confessions. blurry memories. shutter sounds. curses. laughter. song dedications. that much is true.
“why are you looking at me like that?” you bite the inside of your cheek to conceal a smile, beguiled by his love drunk eyes seemingly stunned by your mere presence beside him.
“like what, baby?”
you shy away from his gaze. “like you’re either thinking that i hang the stars on the sky every night… or that you want to eat me alive.”
to confirm your words true, he takes your hand and sinks his teeth on the flesh of your palm where your thumb is connected. his wide doe eyes peer at you innocently, sparkling like of a little kid eating the fluffy pancakes he’s been craving since last night.
the latter might sound like a joke to others, but jungkook does eat you alive. almost. basically. you’re not even shocked at the act anymore. soon enough, you’ll memorize the mark of his teeth carving their mark on your skin, both in sexual and non-sexual setting.
“babe,” you send him a bewildered stare. “i really don’t think i taste as good as you make me out to be.”
he parts away with his eyebrows knitted in disagreement. “not true. you’re yummy.”
“oh, shut up!” you burst into a fit of giggles. your hands automatically attempts to fly to your face, but he has your wrists bound with his secure grip. you don’t resist. you only laugh harder when your sight lands on your hands tangled together.
“there’s ____’s beautiful smile.” he coos, proceeding to pepper your face with appreciative kisses.
and you fold. your back lands on the soft mattress, and your belly starts aching from laughter when he purposely blows on the spot on your neck where you’re most ticklish. hot tears gather at the corner of your eyes, and jungkook watches them fall down your temples as his lips graze your skin and your body shakes underneath him.
tears of joy and pleasure are the only tears you’re going to shed, he promises himself. you’re going to smile and make flowers bloom everyday, he promises you and the earth.
your teeth chattering from the cold is a shy away from your awkward smile, he notices the endearing resemblance as you shiver beside him.
“hmm, what did i tell you about cinema one?” he teasingly asks as he draws back the armrest that serves as a divider between the two of you.
“that it’s fucking cold in there-” you surrender, tone sounding annoyed. “here. whatever!”
“and who still decided to wear their smallest pieces of clothing?” he continues to taunt you while he pulls you into his body’s natural warmth.
you sigh, whether it’s in relief or annoyance, you’re not quite sure.
“i just wanted to wear my new cute clothes.” you whisper-shout.
the giant screen is still playing trailers of the upcoming movies this year, and you’re already mentally updating your calendar to accommodate them despite your hectic schedule. a two-hour vacation, you would always describe films.
he chuckles, and more shivers run down your spine at the deep and raspy sound being so close to your ear. “you do look cute today, baby.”
he catches the cloth of your skirt between his fingers, and somehow, he ends up squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh. you swallow thickly, unconsciously closing your thighs together and trapping his hand in between them.
“thank you, handsome.” you grip his wrist to move it away. you tut. “no silly business, though. i really want to watch this movie.”
his shoulders drop dramatically in disappointment. “okay… want to sit on my lap so i can keep you warm then?”
you look behind you to see that there’s no people sitting on your side, so no one’s view would get blocked if you were to agree to his proposition. the room is practically empty, with a few scattered people sitting on the sides.
you spend the first fifteen minutes of the movie in comfort and bliss, with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you. he took off his jacket earlier, and he splayed it over your lap as to not neglect the goosebumps rising all over your freezing legs.
“so stubborn,” jungkook muttered under his breath while he was taking off the jacket, an amused smile etched on his lips. you would’ve felt bad, but you knew he likes doing these things for you, so you only playfully stuck your tongue out at him.
look, to be fair, it is your first time in this cinema. you’ve been on many dates at this theater with jungkook, but for some reason, you’ve never watched a movie in cinema one until tonight. it’s cold in the other three cinemas as well, the kind of cold you’ve gotten comfortable with, so when jungkook booked the tickets last night and told you ‘it’s really cold in there, wear something warmer,’ you thought he was just being ridiculous.
hah, how cold could it possibly be? right?
fine, jungkook is right. you are stubborn.
and you prove it once more when a flashlight shines over your face. the security guard holding it approaches your seat- wait, no, jungkook’s seat. jungkook is your seat. what?!
“i’m sorry, but only one person can sit on the chair. please comply.”
you trace the direction of her eyes to find jungkook’s hands tucked underneath the jacket on your lap, resting on your inner thighs to steal their warmth. you send him a sharp glare, but it doesn’t affect him one bit. he only shrugs, obviously hiding a smirk as he pretends to be the most innocent person in the room.
you pull up the armrest next to you with a pout, slipping back into your original seat against your wishes.
“he was just warming up his hands. i promise!” you whisper not so subtly to the guard.
she only clears her throat and awkwardly nods in response, walking up the stairs to observe the rest of the movie watchers.
you bury your face in your hands as your body vibrates with mirth mixed with humiliation, and jungkook’s jaw nearly falls on the floor.
“sometimes i can’t believe you’re real. how do you never get shy?”
“i was just clearing things up!” you whine, hitting his arm using the side of a closed fist, which he massages with a squeaked ‘ouch.’ “you’re the one who put me in a compromising situation!”
“well, nobody told me taking care of my girlfriend was a crime!”
you carry on with watching the movie after that embarrassing scene, and you’ve forgotten that you’re cold until you’re uncontrollably shivering again. you begin rubbing your arms in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the goosebumps, but you eventually abandon all hope.
you sadly look over at your boyfriend to plead for help once more, but he has gotten too engrossed with the film to feel a pair of shaking pupils beseech him intensely. he finally opened the box of popcorn he’s been saving for the climax.
and he was the one who wanted to do something other than watch the movie.
you grimace.
you are no stranger to his confusing attention span.
after carefully studying the room to ensure the guard is no longer in sight, you unceremoniously climb on jungkook’s lap again. your actions cause some pieces of popcorn to fall from the box, and he scrambles to stuff them all in his mouth before the powder stains any of your clothes. yours are new, after all.
his face displays a puzzled expression, screaming i thought this was supposed to be a compromising situation?! and his soft rosy cheeks on the other hand-
“you look like a chipmunk who got caught in the headlights stealing food with its mouth full.”
the screen flashes a frame of the clear, blue sky in the aftermath of a ferocious storm. it sends the fleeting sunlight to shine on your face— just long enough for him to capture the image of how pretty you are when you giggle, and most of all, how your hand moves to cover your face, but drops on his arm before it could reach its intended destination.
he recognizes it as a conscious effort, and he feels a tug in his heart. his sweet, precious lover. you will never do anything wrong in his eyes, he thinks to himself as he hugs you closer for a kiss. the feeling of your smile against his lips might just be one of his most favorite things in the world.
he pulls away with a toothy grin to match yours, offering you the box of popcorn. the beautiful smile you claimed to not belong on your face lingers as you turn it down and sip on the lemonade instead. and then it simmers down to your usual mellow smile, to a deep frown, until your lips quiver as the resolution of the film reduces you into a puddle of tears.
jungkook likes to keep mental notes about you.
an excerpt from today:
1. how to make ____ smile? act cute.!! :)
2. how to make ____ cry? watch a son and mother reunite after eighteen long years.
p.s. i think i cried harder, but quieter ????
3. how to make ____ angry mad furious? kill off the said mother unnecessarily at the end of the movie for the sake of shu shock value.
the lights turn on all at the same time as the credits start rolling down on the plain black screen. your body slumps back on your boyfriend, drained by the series of overwhelming events that transpired in the past two hours. he waves his hand infront of your face, but your eyes remain unfocused and unblinking.
“this is the worst movie i have ever seen in my life. four out of five stars.”
he snorts at your unseriousness. “that is the most stars you’ve given this month. and it’s the 29th.”
“see? it’s the worst! i’m going to have nightmares!” you cry out with an exaggerated shudder, grabbing his forearms to envelope yourself in his embrace.
“honestly, pushing her off the cliff was a bit too mu-” his sentence gets rudely cut off when your shoulder accidentally hits his chin. you scrambled to go back to your seat, and this escalated to him accidentally biting the inside of his lower lip. the unusual mix of the bitter and salty taste of metal permeates his tongue as an unexplainable expression spreads across his face.
on the other hand, you’re too preoccupied with mischievously smiling at the guard standing down on the floor. she measures you up with a displeased look worse than earlier’s, but much to your relief, she proceeds to walk out after scanning the room one last time.
“baby!” jungkook yells in pain to grab your attention, jutting out his bottom lip to show you the wound that you inflicted.
“oh my god- shit, shit, shit-” you curse, digging your hand in your bag in search of your handkerchief. “i’m so sorry!”
you press the cloth on the bleeding, profusely apologizing to him with a wince. “i panicked! i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”
he pushes your wrist away for a moment, doe eyes squinting at you accusingly. “you just wanted to play around with her, didn’t you?”
you chew on your bottom lip, the sight of blood that has stained the handkerchief sends a pang of guilt across your chest. “sorry… her face- she was just so funny.”
“fuck, why are you like this?!” he throws his head back with a bright laugher that echoes throughout the theater. “ah, you’re so adorable!”
“come back here!” you scold him, holding his face in your hands to crane it back down.
he juts out his bottom lip again, but his body continues to vibrate with lighthearted chortles.
“does it hurt?”
“it hurts…! i think i might seriously cry!” he answers despite his high tolerance for pain, distorting the truth so that he could drown himself in the gratifying feeling of being doted on by you.
he writes another mental note as you inspect his wound, repetitive bloopers playing in the background of the love bubble the two of you share.
4. ____ likes playing games with strangers. must protect with my life.
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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russo-woso · 16 days
Note
hii i have an alessia russo request :)
basically reader is a huge fuckgirl and everyone knows this, then when she meets alessia after alessias transfer to arsenal they become really close and start sleeping together but r makes it clear it’s just casual, then lessi starts catching feelings for her and r is aware of it but she is kinda playing with alessias feelings and showing mixed signals, eventually lessi breaks down and starts yelling at r about how cruel she’s being by playing with her feelings, happy ending though please maybe there’s an explanation on why r was acting the way she was?
also please write it with a bottom!alessia :)
No strings || Alessia Russo x Bronze!reader
Warning smut 18+, ab riding, fingering, orgasm denial, bottom!alessia, top!reader
It’s a long one :)
Moving to Arsenal from Barcelona had been a hard move.
You knew it would be a hard move but you had prepared yourself for it.
The worst part of it all was the fact you were leaving your big sister, Lucy, behind.
Over the summer, you had been too focused on the World Cup to think about the dread of moving, but once you reached the airport, Lucy approached to say goodbye and that’s when it finally hit you.
You hated it.
You hated the fact you had to move.
But you had to. You had to leave.
You had to leave her.
Her being Jana Fernández.
You and Jana had been dating since you were both twenty and had dated for two years, however, when you were still madly in love with her, she came to you and said she had fallen out of love with you. She told you that you weren’t the one for her, and that killed you.
Once you’d broken up with Jana, it just became awkward and toxic to be around her.
Every training, you purposely avoided her but it became impossible to do that when you were always put at partners for training.
So you left.
You left everything behind so you could have a new beginning, and you wanted that.
You promised you wouldn’t fall in love again, not for a while at least, but that rule started to fade once you saw her, Alessia Russo.
Still being 22, you were playing with the under 23s, however, within the days prior to meeting her, you had received your call up for the World Cup.
Due to the fact you were only getting your call up then, you had never met Alessia but Lucy and Kiera had both told many stories with a certain blonde striker in them.
Alessia and you signed your contracts for Arsenal on the same day and the photographers suggested you take pictures together, which meant Arsenal got to show off their two new signings that could potentially be the future of English football.
It was only after the shoots that Alessia spoke to you.
“You’re Lucy’s sister aren’t you?” Alessia asked and you nodded in response, worried that you’d stutter if you opened your mouth. “You two look alike.” It was the truth. You and Lucy really did look alike. You both were tall, muscular, tattooed.
“Alessia, right?” You questioned, already knowing the answer and was confirmed when she nodded. “I’ve heard lots about you from Luce and Kiera. I’m guessing you’re the blonde striker that goes by Less in their stories.”
“They talk about me? What stories do they tell you?”
“There was this one story where you supposedly tripped over someone’s boot and face planted the floor.” You slightly giggled as Alessia’s face went a light shade of red. “Don’t worry, I’m clumsy too. Ask Luce. I’ve always been clumsy since I was a toddler. Running into stuff, tripping over things, everyone says they’re surprised I don’t trip over the ball when I play football.”
“No way, I get told that all the time.” You and Alessia laughed as the similarities you shared arose.
“Anyway, I best go, my plane back to Barca is in a few hours and you know what London traffic is like.” You joked and Alessia smiled. “See you in Australia?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you in Australia.” Alessia confirmed and with a small smile, you waved and left leaving a very confused Alessia.
Alessia had never come across a girl who made her feel the way you made her which racked her brain full of questions about you, and herself.
———————
“Luce, come on, I don’t like her. I can’t like her.” You complained as Lucy kept going on and on about you liking Alessia.
Once you’d gotten back from London, you told Lucy your encounter with Alessia and she had been teasing you for the past week.
You were currently on the way to London to meet up with the team before making your way to Australia for the World Cup.
“Yeah, but you do deep down, don’t you?” Lucy asked, desperate to get the truth from you.
“Kiera, please tell her to stop.” You begged, for the fourth time, as Kiera looked, unimpressed, at the both of you.
“Lucy, stop it.” Was all Kiera said and it was your turn to look unimpressed at her.
“Look, Luce, I get it. You’re my older sister, you want to know who I like, but I can’t like Alessia. Not after Jana.” You explained and Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. “And anyway, Alessia doesn’t even like girls.”
“Listen, kid, as your older sister, it’s not just my job to know who you like, but it’s also my job to make sure you’re happy, and if I think you’d be happy with Alessia, I say to shoot your shot.” Lucy told you and you nodded along, pretending to listen to her when actually you were blocking her voice out because you knew you wouldn’t do what she was saying.
Once Lucy had finished talking, she pressed resume on her laptop and went back to watching her film which you were grateful for because it meant that you didn’t have to continue the conversation.
———————
“Y/N, hi.” You heard a voice say before a pair of arms wrapped around you.
“Hi Alessia.” You said, taken aback at how sudden the action was.
“How are you? How was your flight from Barcelona?” Alessia questioned, you figured to try make conversation.
“It was good. A bit of turbulence and Lucy being annoying, but other than that, fine.” You replied, grabbing your suitcase before starting to walk away, hoping to end the conversation with your action but nope, Alessia grabbed hers too, walking side by side with you.
“Oh, why was Lucy being annoying?” Alessia asked and you mentally screamed.
As much as you wanted to speak to Alessia, like you really really wanted to, you couldn’t.
Could you?
“Just being herself, you know?” You lied, definitely not being able to tell Alessia the truth.
“Y/N!” You hear Georgia shout from across the terminal and you let out a small thankful sigh, not loud enough for Alessia to pick up on it though.
“I’ll see you on the plane, okay? Bye less.” You smiled at her, before walking to Georgia who enveloped you in a hug.
——————
To say you had had the best weeks of your life was an understatement.
Smashing through the group stages and winning against Nigeria, the whole team had an excited buzz around them.
The only thing that could make the summer even better, was if you could just admit your feelings to Alessia.
Over the past weeks, you and her had grown closer and closer, and you were definite that feelings were there for her but you pushed them away, also definite that your feelings were wrong.
To celebrate the win against Colombia, the whole team decided to go out after the match.
It had started with you saying you weren’t drinking much, but with constant nagging from Lucy, Mary, and a few other girls to drink, you figured you might as well.
You deserved to and it also meant you could get them off your back.
Once you had your first drink, you expected to feel a bit tipsy and then that would have been time to head home.
However, what you didn’t expect to happen, was to be drunkenly taking Alessia back to your room.
Whilst at the bar, flirty and needy touches from both, you and Alessia, had occurred and you took Alessia’s hand in yours, leading her outside before planting your lips on hers.
“Stay in my room tonight.” You whispered in her ear, breaking your lips from her jaw.
Alessia nodded almost immediately, moving to look you in your eyes before pressing her lips on yours.
From that moment, you booked a taxi and eventually ended back at the hotel, you and Alessia the only ones there.
You led Alessia upstairs, not letting your lips off her.
As you entered the room, you pinned Alessia against the wall, moving your lips down her neck whilst her hands tangled themselves in your hair.
A small sigh escaped Alessia’s mouth, her grip in your hair tightening as you continued to attack the sweet spot on her neck.
“Fuck” she murmured, whilst you licked the sensitive, fast growing mark on her neck.
You grabbed ahold of the bottom of her shirt, pulling it quickly over her head, before reconnecting your lips with her body.
This time, instead of moving to her neck, you pressed your lips to her collarbone and down to her chest, just above where her bra sat.
“Move to the bed?” You questioned, pulling away from her body.
“Please.” She whined as you grabbed the back of thighs, lifting her up, effortlessly, and carrying her to the bed.
You placed her down in the centre of the bed before climbing above her.
“Fuck, you look so good beneath me.” You whispered in her ear whilst reaching beneath her to unclip her bra.
“Take this off.” Alessia told you, playing with the hem of your shirt.
You sat up, nearly ripping the shirt off you, your abs flexing at the cool air.
You watched as Alessia’s eyes trailed down your body to your abs, her eyes growing when she landed on them.
You smirked lightly before grabbing the top of her trousers, pulling down swiftly along with her underwear.
“Please hurry up.” Alessia mumbled, your mouth quickly attaching itself to her right nipple.
“Patience, pretty girl.” You told her, your voice husky which clearly affected Alessia because the moan she let out was almost pornographic.
Your tongue swirled around her nipple, your teeth often biting down gently to give her even more pleasure.
“Please, Y/N.” Alessia begged, and you lifted your head to look at her.
Her eyes were screwed shut, her head against the bed.
You locked eyes with hers once they opened, the blue that you’d fallen in love with was the only thing you could focus on.
“Are you sure you want this?” You asked, needing the confirmation before continuing.
“I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time.” She revealed and you lowered yourself so you were in line with her pussy.
Planting teasing kisses to her inner thighs, you eventually thought it was time and connected your mouth with her mouth.
Alessia sucked a breath in as you made contact with her.
The whole experience was intoxicating for you.
The taste of her was intoxicating.
The smell of her was intoxicating, the perfume she wore was all you could smell.
Her laugh was intoxicating.
“You taste so good.” You moaned shamelessly into her pussy which made her buck her hips into your face.
You grabbed ahold of her thighs, keeping them in place whilst you continued to eat her out.
Your tongue took turns between going to her core and to her clit.
“I’m so close.” Alessia breathed out, her breath uneven and ragged.
You hummed in response, sending vibrations through Alessia’s body, moving her closer and closer to the edge.
The sounds escaping Alessia’s mouth made you feel like you were in heaven.
You felt Alessia’s pussy begin to clench so with a final lick you pulled away, leaving a very confused and angry Alessia.
“What? I was so close.” Alessia whined, out of breath.
“I know, pretty girl, but you’re gonna cum. I promise.”
You wiped your mouth, due to it being covered in Alessia’s juices, before leaning down to kiss her.
She moaned into the kiss due to her tasting herself.
As you deepened the kiss, you felt Alessia’s hand work its way to your abs, slowly tracing her fingers over them.
You smirked into the kiss, knowing how much she loved them.
“‘m gonna flip you, okay?” You stated and switched your positions so now, head was against the headboard and Alessia straddled your hips, more so your torso.
She bucked her hips at the contact with your abs.
You grabbed ahold of her hips, slowly guiding her up and down your abs.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” You praised her as she started to pick up the pace of her hips.
Moans escaped Alessia’s mouth and she increased her speed.
With the sensitivity from the denied orgasm, you figured Alessia would cum quickly and as you expected, she did.
It didn’t take long for her to mumble that she was close.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god — ‘m gonna cum.” Alessia nearly screamed, and at that point, you flipped her again so she was beneath you and you slipped your fingers into her.
You continuously pumped in and out of her, to push her over the edge.
Curling your fingers to a particular spot, she moaned for the final time and her legs spasmed around your arm.
“God, I love you so much. I’ve loved you for ages, Y/N. I’ve wanted your lips on mine for months.” Alessia revealed and your face turned white.
You were speechless.
You didn’t know what to think. Maybe it was just post orgasm talk. Or maybe it was the truth.
“And I’m not just saying that because you just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I really do like you, Y/N.” Alessia admitted.
Bingo. There was your answer.
Thoughts swirled through your head.
You liked her back. You know you do. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.
“I’m gonna get a clean cloth and I’ll help you clean up.” You told her, desperately trying to change the topic.
“Oh, okay.” Alessia said, the sparkle in her eyes disappearing which killed you to think that you were the reason for the action.
You promised yourself from that moment that you wouldn’t sleep with anyone, especially Alessia, until you were ready for an actual relationship.
Seeing Alessia hurt and confused killed you, and you didn’t want to experience that again.
You broke that promise though.
Following the win against Australia, the girls went drinking and Alessia ended up in your bed again.
It wasn’t planned and you didn’t intend for her to end there.
But similarly, you left her confused and hurt when you came up with an excuse for her to go.
You hated it.
You hated yourself for making her go through torture.
But most of all, you hated yourself for giving her mixed signals.
You ignore her when you walk past her, but then sleep with her.
You pretend like you don’t know her, but then sprint to her when she scores.
You show her that you don’t like her, but then show her that you love her.
You figured Alessia would snap at you at some point.
What you didn’t expect, was for her to snap at you at the worst time possible.
After the final and the loss to Spain, the team went out for a final time, hoping the drink would take away their emotions.
The night consisted of alcohol, dancing and jealousy.
The jealousy part in all the girls who were jealous of Spain for taking the win, but for you, it was a different type of jealousy.
Throughout the night, a bloke had made his way to Alessia, a flirty smirk resting on his face.
You saw Alessia smile back and within the space of a few hours, they’d gone from talking, to his hands resting on her hips as they danced.
You hadn’t realised just how jealous you were until Mary pointed it out.
“Mini Bronze, what’s with the frown and the red face? Angry are we?” Millie teased and the rest of the team agreed.
Instead of responding, you got out of your seat, stomping over to Alessia and the guy before pushing him away from Alessia.
“Get away from her.” You almost shouted as he pushed back.
“Why?” He snarled, harshly pushing you again. “Are you her girlfriend?”
“What if I was? Have a problem with that?” You squared up to him before he threw a punch.
You eyed him down, throwing a harder punch back.
You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and Lucy telling you to stop.
She separated you and the bloke before telling him to get out.
“What’s your problem?” You heard Alessia shout at you.
It took you, and the rest of the team, by shock at her shouting because she never raised her voice.
“You give me signs that you like me and then you ignore me! You fucking sleep with me, but then walk straight past me the next day. I like you Y/N! Why can’t you just tell me if you like me back? I just want an answer!” Alessia continued to shout.
You watched everyone’s jaws drop at the sudden reveal.
“I do. I do like you Alessia. I’ve liked you since Lucy and Kiera would come home talking about this climbs blonde striker. But I can’t love you. I can’t.” Your voice broke as you said the final sentence.
“Why? Why can’t you love me?”
“Because…” You were about to explain but remembered all the people who had surrounded you, including your big sister and all your teammates. “Can we go outside?”
Alessia nodded, and you both walked out the door and into the darkness that surrounded the bar.
“Why can’t you love me, Y/N, because I need to know. I need to know if you love me or not. Because I’m wasting my life waiting for you when potentially, you don’t even like me back.”
“I can’t love you because I loved Jana and she left me. I loved her and she said randomly one day that she didn’t love me anymore. I don’t want that to happen to us, because I love you too much Alessia. I think I loved you before I even met you. I don’t want to lose you and if that means staying friends, then so it stays.” You explained, Alessia’s face changing from anger to sympathy. “I wish I could love you Alessia, I really want to. But I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”
“I don’t care if I get hurt, Y/N. And I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d rather quit football than hurt you. I’d give up football in a heartbeat for you, and that’s telling you something. Please, let me love you.” Alessia said, inching closer and closer until she stated the last sentence against your lips.
“I’ll never stop loving you.” You whispered against hers before connecting them.
This time, the kiss was slow and full of love.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Less. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to confuse you.” You rambled as you pulled away from the kiss.
“It’s okay. I understand, I promise you, I understand. That’s in the past now.”
Alessia was true.
Jana and that experience was your past, Alessia was now your future.
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lemonlover1110 · 4 months
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 21] The Right Decision
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
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The rest of your trip runs smoothly. Thankfully, Satoru didn’t try to pull another stunt that made you want to gouge his eyes out. Ren is over the moon by going to the beach daily, going to new places to explore, trying new delicious food, and what matters the most, spending time with his mother and father. Sadly, his vacation can’t last forever.
Ren is gloomy the day before you’re supposed to leave, begging you and his father to stay a little longer. Satoru wants to say yes, and he would in a heartbeat if he didn’t have to work. As much as it pains him, he can’t give up everything to be a father. The next best solution is wait for Ren to leave you alone for a minute just to ask, 
“How about I extend your vacation for another week? I’ll leave, and Sayo probably won’t stay either. Just you and Ren.” And it’s tempting. You really want to say yes, but you also want to go back and resolve other issues. Plus, Ren is getting accustomed to getting whatever he wants, and you’re worried that he might become more like his father which is something that you definitely don’t want.
“We can come back some other time. It’s about time I go home.” You answer, and he nods in response. And as selfish as it sounds, Satoru is happy that you declined because he hates the idea of spending a week without seeing his son. It’s crazy to think that he lived a whole life before Ren, and the moment the little boy came into his life, Ren became everything to Satoru.
“Alright… Guess we have to make the most out of today so Ren cheers up.” Satoru says, glancing at his baby boy who’s plopped down on the couch, lamenting himself because he has to leave soon. Unluckily for everyone, it’s a rainy day outside. 
“There’s really not much we can do.” You tell him, and Satoru sighs. He wishes there was something he could do to make the sun come out, but no amount of money can control that. Satoru ponders, wondering what he can do to cheer his son up.
“I got it.” His eyes light up, and he runs upstairs. You furrow your brows in confusion before walking over to sit beside Ren. Your hand runs up and down his back, attempting to soothe him.
“I don’t wanna go home. I like it here.” He kicks his feet into the couch, and you make sure to keep your distance. Ren doesn’t want to go home, he likes it here. He’s with both of you the entire day, and you’re giving him all of your attention, how can he not like it? He knows the moment you go back, things will go back to normal. He’s gotten used to this, he doesn’t want to go back to normal.
“We have to, Ren. Your granny and grammy miss you, and I have to get back to my job.” You tell him, hoping that mentioning his grandmothers will make him reconsider. He loves them with all his heart, but truthfully, he prefers spending the entire day with you.
“I want to stay!” He yells, and a sigh escapes your lips as you pinch the bridge of your nose. He needs to let it out, you know he’s upset. But he shouldn’t be using his voice like that. 
“We’re not coming back if you keep throwing a tantrum.” You warn him before standing up and going to your bedroom. You don’t want to yell at him, so removing yourself from the situation is the best thing to do. Ren is still going to throw his tantrum, and you can only talk about the situation after. 
“I’m here!” You hear Satoru yell from the living room. You’re going to leave him to handle it, not making an effort to get up from bed. Until Satoru calls out your name, and you groan before getting up and walking over to the living room. You smile, seeing how Ren’s demeanor has changed, kneeling down on the floor in front of the coffee table, waiting for his father to open up the box that he brought down. “I remembered I had a board game here.”
“Is this the home you used to come to as a kid?” You ask, wondering why he has the board game with him. Satoru nods in response, sitting down beside the coffee table to open the old box.
 He used to play this game with his dad after getting home from the beach. It’s a game that’s more fun when played with more than two people, but Satoru didn’t really have that option. Regardless, he still had fun with his dad. Growing up, the only time that Satoru actually spent with his parents was the little vacations that they had yearly. He has very fond memories of this place, and of the board game that he opens.
“I haven’t played this in years, I have to read the rules again.” Satoru can’t help but laugh as he takes out every piece. He remembers every time being so excited to tell you about the game, begging his father to take the game back home or buy a new one for his house so he could play with you, but both of them always forgot. Luckily, he gets to play with you for the first time, and with your son as well.
“Take all the time you need.” You answer. Your eyes fall on your son, noting his somewhat puffy eyes. You ask him, “Are you better, Ren?”
“I am.” He nods. Pulling out the game completely changed his attitude. You can’t get too mad at him, he just got into this world. He’s just figuring things out, slowly learning that he can’t get everything even if his father wants to give him the world. 
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Like father, like son. Both are sore losers. After losing to you, both have pouty faces and you swear Ren is on the verge of tears. Ren doesn’t nap anymore, but you decide that after all his crying, you’ll put him to bed. You cuddle with him until Ren falls asleep, and once you’re sure he’s dreaming, you get up from bed and leave your bedroom. 
Satoru’s in the living room, going through his phone. You don’t want to be alone with him so you hope that going to the kitchen and getting yourself a glass of water will give him the hint. He can go to his bedroom and scroll through his phone there. However, when he hears you, he says, “Come join me!”
You sigh, but you still walk over to the couch and take a seat on the other end. You pull out your phone, while he turns his off. It’s completely silent for a minute before he clears his throat and asks, “Are you still talking to Suguru?”
“Does it concern you?” You quickly reply. It’s not his business, especially when he doesn’t tell you what’s going on with him and Sayo.
“I want to know if he’s the possible stepfather to my son.” Satoru answers, and you furrow your eyebrows. You put your phone down and look at him before tilting your head to the side.
“What about you and Sayo? She’s the stepmother to my son and you have yet to tell me a thing about your relationship with her.” You respond, and he purses his lips together. You’re right, you’re absolutely right, but this isn’t about him. “I have no idea about your arrangement with her either… The one that she mentioned.”
“We don’t have an arrangement.” Satoru scratches the back of his neck, clearly nervous about the question. He’s not with her out of love, he’s made that clear. Yet… Why is he denying it?
“The same way Suguru and I have nothing going on.” You answer, hoping that’ll make him speak. Although you aren’t lying, you feel as if you have nothing going on with Suguru right now. You’re avoiding his calls and texts, you definitely don’t have a future together after this. “Look, Satoru. I just want the truth, an explanation to everything. Maybe some closure.” 
The man takes a deep breath, and you know that he’s about to tell you the truth. You can read him like a book. Satoru bites down his lip before confessing, “I didn’t marry her out of love but out of convenience.”
That’s certainly a start, although you aren’t too shocked. Maybe you are a bit surprised since you assumed they fell out of love instead of straight up thinking it was arranged. He takes another deep breath before he says,
“When my father died, my mom knew that I wouldn’t be trusted with his spot… Since I was considered too immature. Also for other business purposes, merging the company that Sayo’s family owns with our own.” He begins, and you feel a pain that you haven’t felt in years. A sudden pain that consumes your body in a matter of seconds, and it only gets worse with his words. “There was another promising candidate that would’ve handled the job while I finished my studies, and my mom was scared that we would lose control. I’ve never been too well liked by them.”
You look down at the couch, feeling your eyes getting glossy as he speaks. You thought you were over this, you really were. He continues speaking, “Getting married to Sayo was my mom’s great solution… Getting married to a woman with status would show how mature I was, ready to take the spot.”
“And… I agreed. We would get married and stay like that until I had my job. I could show that I was great at what I was entrusted to do, and then I would get a divorce.” He explains, and you exhale. Your nails dig into the fabric of your pants, trying your best not to cry… This is why he did it. Money. Money was more important to him than your relationship.
He changed his number and completely blocked you out of his life. He treated you like he always did when you weren’t convenient to him. With contempt and superiority. As he speaks, you realize that you will never manage to be together without some kind of issue.
“I– I’m sorry.” He says, as his hand goes to your hand, but you jerk it out. It’s no surprise that he didn’t want to tell you, he’s right for not telling you. You almost would’ve preferred to hear that he left you because of love for someone else. 
You try not to let a single tear slip even though your heart breaks again. You would’ve left anything and everything behind for him, yet he didn’t even think twice before leaving you. And Satoru feels speechless as you’re on the verge of tears. He tells you, “It was a dumb decision, and given the option again, I would leave everything behind for you and for Ren.”
You stand up from the couch. You suddenly feel suffocated in the room. He wouldn’t choose you if he had the option, he’s only do it for Ren, and that realization makes it hard for you to breathe. But you’re glad he did it. It wasn’t his first time, just this time you realized you would never be his first option.
“No, you made the right decision.” You try to smile at him, attempting to hide the fact that tears are streaming down your cheeks. “Thank you for picking right.”
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nathaslosthershit · 4 months
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The Truth Behind It All
Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.
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The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love. 
She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.
Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.
The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room. 
“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation. 
She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.
“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.
“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.
“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”
“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”
He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself. 
“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”
“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”
“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”
“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”
“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.
“What, love?”
“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom. 
Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.
A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.
Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.
“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.
“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.
“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”
“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”
“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”
“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”
“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.
Oh how unfair it all was.
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