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#I think if I were allowed to cook for myself those types of nights and when I say cook I mean more than eggs
gatheringbones · 5 months
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[“I managed to get out in three months. While out on parole for Christmas, I begged my father not to send me back. In another of our few tender moments, he caved. And he was the one who went to collect my stuff from this place. He returned so shaken he couldn’t talk about it beyond mumbled regrets. He’d never actually seen the place. These mumblings marked a third tender moment.
I had a reprieve, but not for long. I still hadn’t learned my lesson. The cure hadn’t worked. And I was still under the care of this same shrink, which meant still seeing Beth. I made the same gaff, telling Beth about yet another woman, and again she reported back. My father, having been informed, made his last strategic strike. This time he told the shrink that his sister was manic-depressive, and perhaps I was, too. Eureka, they’d solved it, solved me.
Once more I was called into the shrink’s office. I listened to a masterful pitch for Lithium. He made it sound like a drug addict’s dream. That it would allow me to manipulate my mood at will. Next he described me as a Virginia Woolf type time bomb. I’d certainly kill myself by forty. Now I was some kind of suicidal genius. But through the miracle of Lithium I could be saved. The flattery worked, the pitch worked. I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. Took another script to the drug store, this time believing in magic.
I didn’t know you needed a blood test for dosage, but presumably the shrink did. For the next ten days I didn’t eat or sleep. No need to, this stuff made me high as a kite. Unlike most actual manic-depressives, I had no experience with mania. And while I’d done speed, of course, and coke, downers were always more my thing. I’d never gone so hyped for so long. You could say my judgment was a bit impaired. This set the stage for the last act.
The shrink suggested I sign myself into a hospital, just for a couple of weeks to stabilize the dosage. Even impaired, I didn’t immediately bite. So Beth was brought in for bait. Unlike me, she’d learned her lesson, was on board this time, though I didn’t know it yet. She coaxed me and I began to waver. I don’t remember why, but I was at my brother’s house when I called her. I do remember I was alone, staring into his kitchen, which had this amazing pile-up of empty Dewars bottles. The same scotch my parents drank by the gallon. The sight of all those bottles seemed to be what made me call.
It was night, a Friday, I think. I know Reagan had just been elected to his first term. Time had passed. I’d later joke it was his election that tipped me over. Beth came and picked me up. Took me to this place. I signed myself in. My parents didn’t even know. The weekend meant two more days of no sleep or food, even so I realized I’d made a mistake, a big one—been duped.
My father bailed me out, took me home. That might have been that, but it wasn’t. I was still on the stuff—the lithium. By now it’d turned me into some punk girl version of Travis Bickle. For reasons I don’t recollect, I was wearing army fatigues, combat boots, and a lot of those heavy silver biker rings. My mother was in the kitchen cooking dinner. My father and I were watching the news. As my kind of luck would have it, Cambodia, perhaps then still Democratic Kampuchea, was news that night—the Khmer Rouge, Pal Pot, the killing fields—they were dredging it all up again, showing old footage.
That’s all it took. The fuse was lit. The only question now was who’d explode first—me or Dad. I think it might’ve been simultaneous combustion. But he was the one on his feet first. When I hit him, I believed it was self-defense. If I hadn’t been wearing the damn rings, I might not have done damage.
My mother tried to break it up—a first. Somehow she and I wound up on the stairs. But how she fell, honestly I don’t know. I only know I didn’t intend to hurt her. I think I was just trying to get her attention. She wasn’t badly hurt, not physically. But she sat at the foot of those stairs yelling she never wanted me inside their house again. Meanwhile my father was on the phone to the cops—or rather a cop. A friend/employee of his. This guy drove me back to the snake pit. This time they took my jewelry, hell, they took everything. This time they doped me to the gills. This time it was progress when I finally got out of a tiny cell to roam a locked ward with women who’d had lobotomies, and I assure you I’m not exaggerating.
I’ll spare you the gorier details. Things you’d expect but might not believe. After all, nobody believed Martha Mitchell either, at least not until it was way too late to do her any good. So let’s just say that given the condition of the other inhabitants, I was a real find for the night nurse. She made a bundle pimping me to the orderlies. I did eventually engineer my release, aided and abetted by a young woman working in occupational therapy. She was the only person who knew or rather cared that I didn’t belong there. She coached me.
For added insurance I managed to get a guy I knew to come pose as my boyfriend. We went so far as to announce our engagement, and I was released shortly after. At the time I believed the engagement stunt was what cinched it. Now I assume it had less to do with the insurance I’d arranged than with my parents’ Blue Cross, which no doubt had been bilked to the max.
The doctor who released me was the same one who’d been there the night I’d signed myself in. I hadn’t seen him or any doctor since, save the one time he’d called on me to act as playmate for a wealthy woman friend of his who was there taking a much-needed rest from the jet-set. If my whole time there had been like that one week with her—good booze, good drugs, good food, and good sex—I might never have left. But it wasn’t. It was a beautiful fluke amidst grueling ugliness.
As this guy released me, he laughed, even gloated about the amount of Thorazine he’d managed to pump into me. I’d remember the number. Again, I learned from a book that this dose was more than double what was considered safe for an actual psychotic. I got the point. I resolved never again to display an emotion, never again to state an opinion, and never again to fall in love with a woman.
Needless to say, I got away from my family. But I still kept those resolutions for nearly two years. The first two fell away first. The last one was lost to a woman I’ll call Ingrid. And while falling for Ingrid would begin yet another sordid story, it’s the end of this one.”]
heather lewis, from richard nixon and me, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000
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dragjunkie23 · 10 months
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Goth Night, Pt 3
After the previous evening’s activities, Sam and (Y/N) along with Dean are forced to jump into action to help solve this case
Fluff, Mentions of Smut. Minors DNI
I awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon. “The fuck…” I thought, then I remembered last night’s events. Was Sam actually cooking breakfast?
I looked over to my alarm clock that said “9:30 am.” This is actually the longest I have gotten some sleep. I usually would wake up in the middle of the night, but this time…I didn’t.
Getting up, I put on some sweatpants and one of my night shirts. It was a little chilly out today but being in Sam’s embrace the entire evening definitely helped out matters. I shuffled into my kitchen to see Sam with just some boxers on frying up the bacon in my pan. It definitely was a sight to behold. Nothing was hotter than a man who knew how to cook.
He turned to see me standing by the frame and gave me a smile. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I said, walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. I would go up further to give him a little kiss on the cheek, but my tiny ass is never gonna reach there.
He continued to cook, the bacon in the frying pan smelling more good as time went on. “Normally I’m not one for bacon,” he said, “But, it was that and eggs in the fridge, so…”
“What’s usually your go to?” I asked.
“Smoothies.”
“What kind?”
“Sometimes with kale…”
“Oh dear Lord. You’re one of those health nuts, aren’t you?”
He chuckled a little bit. “Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s just…most hunters I have met don’t eat very well. I think for them, they turn to food for comfort.”
I sat down at the dining table, pouring myself some orange juice as Sam finished up. He bought over the bacon and eggs to the table in little bowls for us to scoop up when we wanted. “I’ve noticed it as well. I guess…doing more active things like going for morning runs provides me that chance to just relax.”
“Well, it’s better than what I do.”
“What do you do?”
“Blast the most angsty and angry music out there, singing along and just violently dancing around my room.”
Sam laughed, probably picturing the image. “How does one ‘violently dance?’”
“Did you not notice some of the goths at the club last night?” I asked.
“Nope. Was too focused on you.”
I just rolled my eyes but I also felt my face heat up. “Smooth. Well anyways…sometimes the way we dance, it’s either more elegant or getting all that energy out. At the end of the day, it’s about expression. To many people it seems very weird, but in a way…it’s relaxing. It allows us to just be free and not worry about how others perceive us.”
“I have noticed you doing the more elegant moves,” he said “It did confuse me a bit, not going to lie.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” I chuckled.
As we continued our breakfast, we just talked more. We already broke a majority of the ice last night in the bedroom so the conversations was definitely following a lot better. I can tell Sam was a bit more relaxed and was starting to open up more to me. He told me more about why he usually doesn’t date around, and it’s not just because he’s a hunter. Any woman that has wanted him and he wanted has died in some way.
It broke my heart to hear that, knowing that these monsters knew a way to get to Sam. He admitted that he was nervous on getting close to me, but once he realized that I was someone who had knowledge of the hunter’s life and knew how to defend myself, he knew it was safe.
“You just seem like the type to hold your own,” he said.
“Well, I certainly hope so, or all that training my father did would’ve been for nothing,” I chuckled.
_________________________
“You were right. It’s an Incubus.”
Shortly after breakfast, Dean called Sam and asked him to come back to their motel room. I tagged along as I wanted to know what was going on. Dean pretty much confirmed my suspicions the moment I walked in the door.
“Fucking knew it,” I said, “What confirmed it?”
“Well…after I left the two of you to do…whatever, I wounded up going home with this chick and she was friends with one of the ladies who was abducted. She said that the guy looked like her type…and by that I mean he looked like her dead husband but with some different features.”
“Jesus Christ,” I said, “At least we know what we’re dealing with…”
“Um…who is this…we?” Dean said.
“You and Sam…and me?”
“She really wants to help,” Sam said, “And well…she’s pretty much a walking encyclopedia of the lore with this amount of knowledge.”
Dean just looked at me up and down before a grin spread on his face. “Well, we can’t turn down a lady friend of Sammy’s now.”
“Dean,” Sam growled.
“What? I think it’s great you got someone! She’s hot AND a hunter!? Dude…”
My face heated up in embarrassment, but a part of me was also kind of happy that I at least had Dean’s approval.
“Don’t call her hot…”
“Fine…she’s attractive. Happy?”
“Whatever…just cut it out. She’s clearly embarrassed.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry. I know how older brothers can be. However, we have an Incubus to track down. Let’s get it before it gets any more women.”
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Day 3: The Claridges - New Delhi
11th March 2023
It was one of those tossing and turning type of nights, I dozed off ok but very soon my eyes sprang open, my mind buzzed with information and any further sleep was out of the question.
The alarm finally rang at 6.45am, that was when my eyes suddenly felt heavy, I felt myself falling into a spiral of darkness and then total oblivion, only to be awoken at 7.20am with a cup of tea.
Breakfast was sensational, absolutely gorgeous and I indulged myself totally. I started with a freshly cooked masala dosa, followed by a couple of idli sambhar and then continental cheese and crackers. It was washed down with copious amounts of masala chai.  Our guide, Ashok appeared at 9.30am on the dot and went through the day’s itinerary and askied us if we were happy to go with the flow.
I am so pleased we agreed with him because it’s been such a fabulous, eye opening, informative and enjoyable day.  We boarded our transport, however our driver had morphed over night into Punkaj and he turned up with his mate Sanjeev, who appeared to be riding shot gun. I also think the Tempo was different as well because the the seats had miraculously changed colour.
It was decided amongst the four of us that we were ok with the new arrangement and we ventured forth into the Delhi sunshine.
Our first stop was the Akshardham Temple which opened in 2005 and over 300 000 000 hours went into the making of this construction and over 8000 volunteeers from across the world participated in building it.
The Temple is a humble tribute to Bhagwan Swaminarayan, who died in the 18th Century, and Hinduism and it stands as an eternal place of devotion, purity and peace.
We were early so, although there was a queue forming, we were able to enter the complex quite swiftly.
My first impression was one of utter amazement, I felt that I had walked onto a film set.
The building was just magnificent and stood out against the blue sky and Delhi skyline, I gaped open mouth at it in absolute awe and wonder. It was truly beautiful.
Unfortunately we were not allowed to carry any cameras or phones with us so the only photo I have of this incredible Temple is a crooked one that Sanjeev took for me from the car park.
The lines were divided into male and female and on asking Ashok why, his answer was “ its tradition “. 
Anyway Rita and I followed the female line and I was promptly stopped, my arm grabbed and a soldier type lady started scrolling through my smart watch muttering something about whether it could recieve phone calls. To make things simple, I told her that my watches only facility was step counting which she seemed to accept.
The grounds, steps and surrounding area were immaculate so it wasn’t  such a big deal removing our shoes and beside the marble underneath my footfall was lovely and warm.
Inside, the Temple has many chambers and I inspected each one closely, there was Shiva, the Destroyer, the Preserver and the Creator, there was Lord Krishna and his girlfriend Radha and as I immersed myself into these deities, I heard the first strains of  the priests singing the Aarti.
In a flash I was a child again and singing the Aarti with my mum, I closed my eyes tight, tears clinging to my eyelashes and listened with my hands clasped in abeyance, a state of temporary suspension. I heard nothing except the voice of my mum chanting these exact same words.
From Akshardham we negotiated our way to Old Delhi, Ashok couldn’t believe that we had never walked its narrow streets.  The calm and peace of New Delhi was instantly shattered as we appeared to cross an imaginary line and straight into  a cacophony of horns and voices, thumps and bangs.
We parked up nearby and so began my 20 near misses with death. We alighted from the Tempo and straight into a video game of careering motorbikes, scooters, rickshaws, tuk tuks’s and people .
Ashok led the way, brazenly sticking his hand in the air and walking out in front of vehicles shooting around in every direction. I tried to show the same confidence, however it was impossible to keep up, scooters in front blaring horns at me, some creeping up from behind, other shooting out from side roads. I had so many near misses so it was a case of having eyes in the front, side and back of my head, and as for the pavements with its loose stones, huge puddles of water and debris , it was a real achievement that I didn’t take a tumble.
Then the people, they too come from all angles, carrying children, carrying large bundles on their heads, bags of shopping and they too all have a mission, everyone has a place to go, things to encounter and places to be.
We went down one narrow lane after another taking in the sights and smells of the real India, the shop fronts were awash with coloured garlands, heady spices hung in the air, young men were smoking, old men were drinking tea, ladies with  the corners of their sari’s floating  behind them were in rickshaws urging the driver to move faster, stray dogs snored in the gutters and children played in the gutter, smiling up at us with their  big black eyes and brilliant white smiles as we walked past them.
Finally we came upon a Rickshaw Rank, a queue of motorised and cycle rickshaws waiting for fee paying customers. I couldn’t even get into one, it was so high up, however I got a helping push up from Tony, hard enough to jolt me upwards and into the seat.
So instead of worrying about ending my life as a pedestrian, I was actually in one of the things that could’ve caused it ! We were in a pedal shaw, the little, wirey man peddled furiously and with strengths and determination I certainly did not possess by this time and we made good head way, on occasion he would shout a profanity, as he had no horn, to get people out of the way.
We got back to the Tempo and it was a release to sit and gulp some water down.  Punkaj revved up the engine and we skidded out into the road and crossed the line back into New Delhi, back to the wider roads, organised traffic, traffic signals, roundabouts and actual pavements that people walked on.
We made a last pit stop at the Indira Gandhi Memorial, her house and place of her assassination . Although I have been here before, I still felt found new things to read and enjoy.  This great Stateswomen lived a humble, simple and family life which was cut short in her prime. Politics apart, I have great respect for Mrs Indira Gandhi and the words she said at one of her speeches echoed in my head:
“ How can you be Indian and not be proud”
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confessionhour · 8 months
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We aren't happy homes for either of eachother.
You can be kind, and sweet, but only when someone other than me is spending the most time with you. I've seen you with them, and you have so much love and excitement and kindness and sincerity. It doesn't even have to be a specific someone, although obviously there is a specific someone.
I think you used to treat me that way once, in the beginning. Maybe for the first two months. I was absolutely enraptured by you, you spent so much time saying sweet things and giving reassurance, telling me it was good and healthy and how proud you were. We spent an entire day messaging back and forth about how much we loved eachother. Do you remember that?
And now you sound irritated half of the time if I say I love you, so I've learned to say it less. I spend most of each day feeling like I'm not allowed to speak to you. You're busy, always busy. Always buried in your phone. You have people to reply to, dynamics to build and strengthen. Your entire life is your phone, that's been true since the beginning. Maybe that's part of what it was, I was one of those adoring people typing to you in your own personal handheld reality, your escape from the world in front of you.
You ignore me when I approach, so I've learned not to try and interact with you. Just give you space, leave you alone. You told me you don't want me to ask how you are anymore, so I've stopped. There doesn't seem to be anything that you really want of Me, from me. You want my help paying for things, you haven't had a job for 6 of the 9 months we have known eachother. You want a warm body next to you at night. You want someone to run errands and orchestrate and clean and help cook. You want mental labor, someone to handle everything for you. You want someone to play with psychologically when you feel like entertaining yourself. See what you can get them to do, watch them stutter and get flustered.
But you don't want my words. You don't care about my opinions, or my thoughts. It feels a lot of the time you don't care much about my feelings. I try to tell you when I'm upset, and it's a fight. You did carve time out of one of your phone calls to spend with me on your new hobby, most of that time you spent typing. We don't really talk. You talk to and over me. Over time, I'm losing anything to talk about, anyways. You show visible disinterest if I manage to go in for more than a few sentences, or tell me to change the subject.
You told me from the beginning of me living here that you had no emotional availability for me. Why just me, why can you do it for anyone else?
I feel manipulated and used.
You don't want my body. You'll let me have the privilege of getting you off, but I'm not worth touching. You want me to learn to please you, but I'm not worth learning. You told me you didn't want to.
What do you even know about me, on more than surface level?
I've cared a lot more about this than you have for a very long time. I let myself go on and tried to be worth it and reduced myself trying to be what you want, but I don't think that I, myself, ever will be. And that's okay. If I'm not what makes you happy, I can live with that. But I wish you would just tell me directly instead of treating me the way you do.
#.
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david-watts · 3 years
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problem with this household is the moment I even try to stock up on food I can make for me and me alone easily is immediately there are several nights in a row where I have to do exactly that and get in trouble for doing exactly that (don’t read the tags lmao it turned into a vent)
#once again there is basically no food in this house I can actually eat lol#note the pasta I made with three out-of-date-or-even-mouldy ingredients lol#that was lol twice in a row I hate that but fuck it not retyping that tag#I was good! I tried not to resort to doing that the second it even appeared like it'd be fend for yourself night!#but I still had to#it's like. over the end of the year period there were a LOT of those types of nights and I got in trouble because I was not eating well#and it made me feel really ick too but it's not like I had too much choice. and I was eating ok otherwise#I think if I were allowed to cook for myself those types of nights and when I say cook I mean more than eggs#that is literally all I'm allowed to cook on those types of nights it's eggs or a sandwich and that's ok for#an old lady who eats cooked lunches a LOT which is actually why we end up having those sorts of nights#the disparity between what we eat during the day#but she goes 'you can't cook for one person that's wasteful' despite often making THE most disgusting food that wastes good ingredients#that we had plans to make and therefore we waste MORE#because she has this complex about needing to use things up when that's not what needs to happen#man why am I even typing this out. it's not like anyone cares.#maybe I just shouldn't eat! I should actually fall down the rabbit-hole I have been trying not to for four years!#lol that was great. when I actually tried it my therapist and my m*ther dragged me kicking and screaming away#and then my m*ther got upset with me for overeating when I was doing exactly what I was instructed to#she's been going to her own therapist lately which is like. good and bad#she's too similar to my grandmother in a lot of ways but has the added victim complex#unfortunately her eating less (which is good don't get me wrong) destabilised the household routine#it's very complex there's a lot of different things going on in this shitshow.#but like. I haven't been able to eat well. my diet for a while was mainly snacks I could hide in my room so I knew what I could actually eat#and my m*ther is on a bit of an ego trip and going 'you should eat less' what the fuck do you think I'm trying to do half the time#this is exactly the amount I should be eating but no! it's too much for one person apparently!#so like because of that I'm holding onto the edge by one fucking fingertip#it's like#'you need to drink more'#'stop drinking so much juice' (reason I was drinking more than I probably should've? needed to drink more)#'stop drinking energy drinks why can't you go back to the juice'
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mercy-burning · 3 years
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Fake Fiancée - Part 3
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4
MASTERLIST
NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed! 
It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!
Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰
***
We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.
If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?
Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...
He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.
I was pissed.
Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.
In retrospect, I may have overreacted.
Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.
Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?
Spencer,
I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.
And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.
I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.
But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.
I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.
When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.
But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.
I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.
I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.
But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.
Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.
Yours, Y/N
P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.
***
Y/N,
I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)
And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.
But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.
But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.
Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.
Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.
I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.
But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.
Yours, Spencer.
P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.
That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.
***
I was definitely way too in my head about this.
It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.
So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?
Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.
I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.
So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.
In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.
Spencer,
Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.
I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.
Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.
Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.
In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.
Yours,
Y/N
***
In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.
Was that pathetic?
I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...
The whine I let out truly was pathetic.
You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...
My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...
Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...
You pathetic, needy little thing...
My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.
Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...
By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.
Holy mother of—
The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.
Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.
She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.
Y/N,
I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.
See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...
I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.
I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.
I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.
If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.
That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.
It's the least I can do.
Yours, Spencer.
And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.
My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.
I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.
Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.
My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.
The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.
There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N
I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.
I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.
A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.
My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.
The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.
I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.
My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.
You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...
Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.
But she never did.
Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.
Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.
My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.
But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—
I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.
I'd done it again...
And now we most certainly were not even.
I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.
***
I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.
I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.
But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.
Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.
Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.
Also sorry we're not even anymore.
But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.
***
Dearest Y/N,
I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).
Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.
I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.
I'd do anything to please you.
And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.
Yours, Spencer.
***
The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.
It irked me.
Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.
But I should have known better.
One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.
I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.
Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."
By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.
"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."
"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."
He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!
I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.
Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.
"Is it, uh... What you expected?"
"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.
"My apartment."
"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."
The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.
And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.
I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.
"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."
"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.
Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.
"You're sure?"
"Mhm."
"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."
Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.
He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.
"Don't you dare."
It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.
I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.
His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.
My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.
He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.
Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.
I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...
Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.
"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"
We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."
I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."
He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.
It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.
We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.
"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.
"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."
"Right. No smartphone."
Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.
His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.
"What were you thinking about?"
He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"
Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.
"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."
"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."
"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."
The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.
So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"
I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.
And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.
"Hands?"
Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.
He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).
I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"
"Uh huh."
The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.
But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.
I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face.  The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.
"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."
The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.
Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.
I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.
Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.
But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.
What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.
Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.
I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.
Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.
I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.
When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.
"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.
"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."
We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.
And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.
Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.
"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"
Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."
"You... kept it?"
I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.
"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."
"You never take it off?"
I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.
Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.
"No."
"Why?"
My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.
"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."
With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.
"I think I might love you..."
Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.
"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."
Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.
I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.
And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.
He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.
And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.
***
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retroellie · 3 years
Note
(I love your work btw!!! 🥺💕) Can you make an imagine where the reader is cooking dinner for Ellie, but then Ellie starts feeling a bit needy for the reader while watching her cook, and ends up roughly fucking her on the kitchen counter, which leads to the food being burnt and they end up getting takeout instead? 😩
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Summary: Cooking dinner until Ellie gets a nasty idea
A/N: I promised more farm!ellie so here ya go. Thank you for the request love <3 Thank you for enjoying and i know you said take out but like i started writing and was like oh shit they meant modern world, so i completely forgot im sorry AHSJA. Anyways mom!ellie
Warnings: NSFW, Strap-on, Fingering, Pregnant sex
Word count: 3.7K
"Shit." Ellie huffed, shutting the heavy door to the barn.
There was so much work still needed to do on the farm, the hen shed needed to be built still so for now they were spread out across the barn and the cows pen needed to be expanded. There was so much left to do and ellie was nervous y'all might not get it done by the time winter got here.
She had been out there all day working on getting all the animals comfortable in their new homes, the pigs being the hardest. As of right now though the sun was beginning to set and Ellie was starving. You had gone in not too long ago because you were becoming overheated, not well for the baby in your belly.
Ellie walked through the field, seeing how pretty the house looked in the sunset light. All the pretty oranges and reds spread across the wood of the house, she wished she had her sketchbook so she could get down the quick picture before it left her brain.
She reached the house, taking her shoes off so she didn't get mud on the floor. She could hear faint sounds of music, if she was real quiet she could hear you humming along with it. She smiled at the peacefulness she felt right now, suddenly all the stresses she had about the barn vanished. Suddenly she thought the barn was a great idea, if this was how it would be all the time then she could die a happy woman.
She set her shoes next to yours, taking one good look at the fields before going in. The sun buried itself behind the hills, casting a glow on the flowing laundry allowing her to see small peaks of the barn. She couldn't wait for the kid to be running through here, she could see it now. She could see herself running after the kid, small laughs coming from the both of them.... her kid. The thought made her smile.
She finally opened the screen door, the smell of dinner filling the air around her. That's when she saw in the dim light of the candle filled room, you in the middle of it all. You were dressed in a cute little cottage dress that you were given at the baby shower, and one of the women of the town made it for you.
You were making something on the stove, not noticing her presence until the screen door slammed behind her. You jumped slightly, the perks of living in a post-apocalyptic world. You gave a small smile when you realized it was her before averting your eyes to the pot in front of you.
Ellie placed her things down on the small table by your back door, her eyes glued to you. She made her way over to you, seeing a cookbook opened right next to you. There were so many types of vegetables out along with some bread and meat. You always did know how to surprise her with your old world cookbook.
"Long day at work Mrs. Williams?" You smiled, teasing her a bit.
"Long and hard, Mrs. Williams." She came up behind you, placing her large hands on your hips.
She swayed a bit to the music, watching you stir the food in the pot. You smiled at her sudden affection, the feeling of her hands gripping softly at your waist making you blush slightly. One of her hands made its way to your belly, noticing how much bigger it had gotten since y'all moved here.
"How are my girls doing?" She asked, caressing your stomach softly.
When you guys first found this place you were only a couple weeks along, not even 9 weeks along. Now you're almost 6 months old, you have gotten bigger and bigger. Your glow had only increased as well, you looked really good and really happy as well. Most nights were better than others obviously, the paranoia and depression of the outside world can be hard especially on a pregnant woman.
"We're doing okay, she's a little shit and won't settle down but hopefully food will calm her down." You replied, watching as the broth bubbled.
You could feel Ellie's grin on your neck, kisses halting for only a minute just to look down at the bubbles as well. It looked like chicken noodle soup but Ellie couldn't be sure. Her hands continued to caress your belly, feeling as the baby moved around. She will never get used to that, the feeling of a baby in your stomach.
She was dragged out of her thoughts when you turned your head to connect your lips together. She was caught off guard but happily moved her lips to yours, one hand still sitting on your hip and the other slightly pushing you back to rest yourself on her chest. You chuckled into the kiss, pushing her away slightly with your butt.
"Honey, I love you but you smell like a pig pen..." You joked, turning back to the oven. "Go get cleaned up for dinner, it has another 20 or 30 minutes left."
She laughed, stepping away from you for the first time since she came into the house. She gave your ass a soft smack before trailing herself up stairs. You let out a surprised yelp, giggling as you watched her walk to the doorway and stop in her tracks.
"behave yourself while i'm upstairs... You think you can do that?" She joked, giving you a small grin.
"Ugh that'll be impossible...how could I behave myself when I know you're washing pig shit off your hands just up the stairs." You joked back.
Ellie chuckled and made her way upstairs, jogging up the stairs and into your bedroom. It didn't take much to get cleaned up, she just changed into a plain white shirt and some random pair of jeans she found on the dresser.
While she was placing her dirty clothes into the hamper she caught a glimpse of one of your guys toys. It was a strap on, it was one you used often but it worked for the two of you. That's when the best idea came to her, she didn't hesitate in grabbing the strap on. She put it on tightly so it wouldn't fall off.
When she was comfortable with it, not too tight and not too loose she pulled up her jeans. It wasn't too noticeable, the strap was mostly folded in between her legs so it didn't show through her jeans. She smiled at her nasty idea before walking back down stairs, seeing you in the same position you were before. This time your eyebrows were knitted together in frustration, licking your lips which sent tingles through ellie.
She went back to the same position she was at only minutes before her nasty idea, but this time her hands roughly grabbed at you. There was a slight change in her presence than the last time, it was once innocent and peaceful but now it was like a lion staring down its prey.
Her lips were once again attached to your neck, hands bunching up your dress slightly. The roughness distracted you a bit, not expecting her mood to change within seconds. One of her hands was slowly making its way under your dress, giving you only a split second to realize what she was going.
You didn't know if it was you being pregnant or what but you were almost immediately putty in her hands, in between your legs already called for her. Her hand was slowly running up your thigh, no time was waiting.
"Ellie... I have to make dinner!" You stated, hand grabbing on to the counter for leverage.
"You said 20 minutes right??" She asked, watching as you gave her a small nod. "I can make you cum at least 3 times before...."
Those words made you weak, you could feel the wet spot on your underwear grow more and more. Ellie sucked and bit at your neck, leaving small bruises. Her hand made it all the way to your thigh, feeling the wet spot. She gave a cocky grin, knowing she was the one doing that.
"Besides, dinner can wait..." She paused, moving her hand that rested on your waist to your chest, grabbing at your flesh softly. " Well, you pussy seems to think so." She teased.
You let out a small groan, letting go of the spoon you had been holding too grab at her hand that was grabbing at your boobs. You usually would give her a hard time, tease her as much as she teases you but right now... your hormones were everywhere and your body was so different than it was, you just couldn't fight back your desire for her.
She took a few steps back, taking you back with her so you were safely away from the stove before moving your panties to the side. She started off small with her movements, placing two fingers on your clit, circling them around to send small moments of pleasure to your core.
You moaned into the air, the increased sensitivity of your body changing made the movements feel more intense than they once were. Your head moved back to capture her lips in a kiss, while her fingers worked on the little bud between your folds.
The kiss was passionate, no teeth clashing or sloppy tongue action but like two puzzle pieces being perfect for each other. Your head craned back, wanting more of her lips and you were honestly afraid of breaking your neck but it just felt so good.
Ellie's hand on your chest pulled down your dress, releasing our boobs into the cold air. She was just able to pull it down to your waist but that was enough access for her. She grabbed at one of your boobs, playing with the sensitive nipple.
She watched as you gasped into her mouth, eyes slightly rolling back into your head. She took that as a cue to shove two fingers inside of you, thumb still rubbing at your clit. You couldn't last too much longer and she knew it, everything felt so different from your not pregnant body so she had to treat it differently.
Your walls immediately clamped around her finger, the knot in your body ready to explode. You grabbed on to her, one hand on her arm and the other moving back to grab her thigh to balance yourself. It all happened so fast and you didn't even know it was happening until waves of pleasure were sent all over your body and your juice dripped onto ellies hand.
Some strangled moans left your mouth, as your body felt like it was on fire and your stomach did twist and turns. You tried to catch your breath, wincing as Ellie took her fingers out of you. Ellie allowed you to slowly come down from you high, knowing she was not done with you yet.
"Sorry I came so fast...." You breathed out, moving to fix your dress back before Ellie pulled you back to her.
"Who said I'm done with you.." She spoke, moving her hand down to her jeans before pulling out the strap.
You gasped at the feeling of it, feeling it hit your lower back. You couldn't help but feel pathetic at the fact you were still so fucking horny even though you already came once, you felt greedy but you ddin't care.
"I said 3 times right?" She spoke, not asking but telling you.
You bit your lip at the tone of her voice, feeling your cunt flutter and drip onto your now soaked underwear. Your cheeks were red along with the flush skin of your chest from Ellie grabbing at your tender boobs.
Ellie pulled you closer to her, standing you still while she pulled your dress all the way down to your ankles. The feeling of her being fully dressed and you being completely naked, the degradation of it making your legs shake more than they already were. You were in nothing but your underwear that were pushed to the side and ellies hands settling down on your hips.
Ellie spread your legs a tad, moving a finger to slide through your folds. You winced a tad, overstimulated slightly but so ready to be fucked once again. Ellie got you nice and wet, lining up the strap to your puffy folds.
"Do you need anything? Water? Or do you want to sit down? i co..." She started but wasn't able to finish her sentence
"Jesus Christ ellie just fuck me already." You interrupted, moving your hips back to try to fuck yourself on the strap.
Ellie chuckled but you didn't have to tell her twice, she slowly inserted the strap but that wasn't until you moved your hips back and forth. The action of you fucking yourself on the strap made her stumble back slightly, hitting the sink so her back was flush against it.
You didn't have a set speed, you sped up and then slowed down just whatever felt the best at the moment. Ellie watched as you sunk down onto it, watching it go in and out of you. She was getting a little antsy, wanting to thrust in and out of you while holding you down on the cabinet.
Oh how she wanted to fuck you so hard, but you were fragile at the moment so she let you take your time. Instead she placed her hands on your hips, helping you push your weight onto her. Your thighs were burning, the way you had to push yourself back onto her gave you a legit work out.
You held onto Ellie’s hands, forcing your body back down onto her. You could feel yourself inching closer and closer each thrust, each thrust also came more frustration on your part. The feeling of running after an orgasm but not being fit enough to reach it out made you wanna scream.
You hair was falling in front of your face as you leaned over to try to fuck yourself harder on the strap, trying to get at the best angle as well. You were just genuinely uncomfortable but so motivated to get off that you didn’t care that your body was hurting.
Ellie noticed the tension in your body, feeling your frustration as you desperately tried to get off. That’s when she stepped in, stopping you for a minute to lean you on the cabinet next to her. Only your chest on the cabinet, your elbows holding you up.
“Lemme take care of you hun...” she started, lining the strap back up. “Just sit back and look pretty for me okay.”
She took home on your hips once more and dove back into you, hitting an angle that you wanted to get too but couldn’t. She went at the same pace as before, rough and hard but taking small breaks in between to check if you were hurting.
You grabbed onto the counter with dear life, the cold counter against your flush skin making you shiver slightly. She was prominent and very skilled, feeling every single inch of the strap inside of you.
“Fuck... Ellie... I-“ you could feel yourself clamping around her, your walls fluttering and tensing up ready to release.
She knew you could last longer, your strangled groans and small cruises dropped hints to her. Her twisted a hand in your hair, something she knew you liked, pulling it slightly while you thrust your hips back to hers.
You lifted yourself off the counter now holding yourself up with your hands, holding yourself as steady as you possibly could for Ellie. You could feel it rip through your body. You jerked your body flush against Ellie’s, back all the way pressed against her chest.
Ellie snaked a hand to your boobs and the other drawing soft circles in your clit. You threw your head onto her shoulder, mouth shaped into an O shape as you came with a loud moan.
“Come on baby.... cum on my cock..” she whispered, thrusting her hips into you harshly.
You were seeing stars at this point, holding on to Ellie for dear life as she fucked you through your orgasm. Ellie kissed up your jaw, catching your lips into a kiss while slowing down her movement. Your body had stopped jerking only to be left legit shaking.
Ellie pulled the strap out of you, still holding you up with one hand. You were out of breath, shaking violently in her arms as she comforted you back into your body. She moved a hand through your hair, peppering your neck with kisses as you slowly came back to your body.
“Do you need anything?” She whispered, pressing a small kiss to the shell of your ear.
You turned around in her arms, bringing her into a kiss. Your hands immediately made their way into her hair, her hands absentmindedly went to your hips. It had got a cold in the house but you both were heated up.
“I’m okay Ellie, the baby's good, I’m not thirsty, I don’t need to sit...” you said, knowing exactly the same questions she would ask. It warmed your heart to see she cared but holy shit you were so wound up. “I was promised 3 orgasms.... so please just shut up and fuck me.”
That was so fucking hot to her, you taking what you wanted without a care in the world was something she couldn’t handle. She brought you into a sloppy kiss, holding your head in place as she walked you back into the counter.
She pressed you against the counter, leg up against your bare cunt that was so overstimulated right now but you somehow wanted more. She lifted one of your legs up around her waist and you helped do the other until you were fully seated on the counter.
Your legs dangled down, spread wide open so Ellie could place herself in between them comfortably. Her hands sat on your thighs, squeezing both of them softly. Your hands wrapped around her neck, bringing her so close to you.
This is what heaven would feel like if there was one, fucking on the counter of your dream farmhouse while pregnant with Ellie’s child (Figuratively). It’s what pure light and sweet dreams felt like wrapped in one.
You wrapped your legs around Ellie’s waist, hinting at wanting her to fuck you finally. Ellie lined it up with your cunt, running it up and down your slit a few times before pushing it all the way in.
You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim once more, throwing your head back onto the cabinet as Ellie thrust in and out of you at an animalistic pace.
Ellie watched as your back arched up, causing your boobs to bounce every single thrust. This view made her mouth water, you being fucked under candle light. She leaned down to attach her lip to one of your boobs.
You grabbed a fist full of her hair to keep her there for a moment, feeling pleasure from two sensitive areas of your body could send you flying off the edge once more. You let multiple moans out, one after the other.
The house was full of them, bouncing off every wall until they made it back to Ellie’s ears. Ellie went deeper, trying to hit that spot that made you see stars. Ellie watched as your eyebrows knitted together, head pointed up to the ceiling as your mouth formed an O once more.
You were once again so close, tired walls fluttering against the strap. Your overstimulated cunt burning at the sensation of another earth shattering orgasm. Ellie lifted her head up to coax you through it, leaving sloppy open mouth kisses on your fully exposed neck.
“Come on baby, cum on my cock one more time....” she encouraged you, speeding up once more. “I know you can do it, make that pretty little cunt cum all over my cock huh.”
Those dirty words, words that made your body tingle every time you heard them. You grabbed onto Ellie once again, squeezing her hand as the knot in your stomach finally snapped once again.
You could feel how your juices spilled all over the counter, probably making a big wet mess. Pleasure courses through your body, making you jerk violently. Your nails dug into Ellie roughly, most likely leaving bruises.
Ellie once again fucked you through your orgasm but slowed down slightly, kissing up your neck. Your entire body collapsed, no more strength to try to get down.
You could smell the burning of your soup, the awful smell wafting through the air. It had been a little over 20 minutes, probably more than 30 minutes even. It was slightly bright outside when you started but now it was pitch black, candles were the only thing lighting your way.
Ellie planted another kiss on your lips, caressing your belly to comfort you. You kissed back, just wanting to go to bed at this point.
“Well the soup is burnt... So what do you wanna do for dinner??” You asked, looking at how the soup smoked.
Ellie looked back as well, seeing as it was literally almost black. She chuckled a bit, turning back to you and shrugging.
“I mean we have left over cake from the baby shower.... can't let it go to waste.” She said, watching as you gave her a big grin.
“Hmmm... I think you sound much better than cake.” You joked, well it really wasn’t a joke. You just came 3 times and she at least deserved to get eaten out.
“I swear you got knocked up and now you're just a little horn dog.” Ellie rolled her eyes, slipping out of you before handing you your dress.
“Hey corn dogs kinda sounds good??” You joked, hopping down from the cabinet almost falling down on your way.
“You are too much.” She laughed, pulling you back into a quick kiss.
You wrapped your arms around her neck once more, smiling into the kiss as her hands roamed down you your ass giving it a quick squeeze.
"Well cake and burnt vegetables for dinner i guess." You sighed out, between kisses.
The only thing y'all will be eating tonight is each other at this point.
352 notes · View notes
weirdkpopgirl · 3 years
Text
Enhypen Reaction: When You Need Comfort
Reaction: When you need comfort
Reaction: When their s/o needs comfort
Genre: Mostly angst...a little fluff
Warnings: uh...some sensitive topics like food, nightmares, and mental health, self-harm. Please be aware of this before you read!
A/N: I wrote this for anyone who is going through a hard time and needs comfort ^-^
❉ ╤╤╤╤ ✿ ╤╤╤╤ ❉
HEESEUNG
This time you sprang up from your bed, sweating bullets. Sobs escaped your mouth, as you remembered the horrifying nightmare you had just woken up from.
“Bad dream?” You suddenly heard Heeseung’s voice murmur in a sleepy voice. You almost forgot that he was staying over tonight.
You grabbed a tissue from your nightstand and blew your nose, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Heeseung sat up and gently stroked your hair in hopes to comfort you, “You’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately. Is everything okay?”
“This week has been so stressful,” You said honestly. “And you know stupid me always overthinks every little thing.”
Heeseung caressed your cheek, “One, you’re not stupid and two, do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head, “No it’s okay. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? Do you need anything?”
You nodded, “Just...just hold me please.”
If Heeseung was more awake he probably would’ve smiled at what you said. He happily brought you to lay back down on the bed and held you as you asked him to. You instantly felt better by his warmth and touch.
“Good night Jagiya,” He whispered.
You snuggled closer so your head could rest in the crook of his neck, before pecking his lips.
“Night, Heedeungie.”
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JAY
You really didn’t want to go to Jay’s dorm at 11 pm, when it was nearly midnight. Especially because he probably had a hectic schedule today and he needed to sleep. But here you were, pathetically standing at his front door wearing only a thin sweatshirt, shorts, and sliders.
“Noona? I didn’t know you were coming,” Niki was the one who answered the door.
You tried to smile at the younger boy, “I’m sorry...but is Jay home?”
Fortunately, Jay had already headed toward the entrance after Niki went to answer the door. His heart rate increased when he recognized your voice. He motioned for Niki to let him know he could handle this. The maknae nodded and carried on with his nightly routine.
“Jagiya, what are you doing here?” He asked without thinking. “I mean not that I mind at all.”
For a few seconds, you looked at Jay who looked exhausted, most likely due to hours of dance practice. You regretted why you even came here in the first place when Jay and his members needed to rest.
“I-I...it’s not a big deal actually,” You lied. “I’m sorry for bothering you guys at this hour, I’ll just leave-”
But Jay took your hand before you could take off, “No you’re not bothering us. Stay.”
When your eyes met his own, he could tell that you need him right now. He knew better than to let you slip away like this when you clearly weren’t okay. He could care less if it was late.
He knew it must’ve been really bad because you never came to him like this. Usually, you kept to yourself. He felt a little guilty for feeling happy that you finally came to him.
“Were your parents fighting again?” He asked after bringing you into the dorm’s living room. He gestured for you to come to sit beside him so he could bear hug you.
“Yeah…” You replied, almost inaudibly. “My d-dad was cursing at my mom and she was saying really hurtful things.”
“And you couldn’t sleep?”
“Yeah pretty much…” You gave a half-suppressed laugh. You always made it seem like a joke when you were talking about your struggles. It was how you coped.
You wiped away tears that fell without you knowing, “I don’t understand why they don’t divorce already. Our family is already a wreck.”
“If I could make everything better with the snap of my fingers, I swear I would (Y/n),” Jay gently moved your head so you could rest on his shoulder.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tighter, “Can I stay here, just for tonight? I promise I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
“You can stay here as long as you want Jagiya,” Jay kissed your temple. “Hell, you could even move in with us if you want.”
“Jay, you know your managers will not allow that.”
Jay shrugged, “I’m sure we could work something out. Besides, I need someone to help me cook for these six children.”
He smiled when he saw you laugh at his humor. At least you were feeling a little bit better.
“But seriously, you’re always welcome here,” Jay said. “Don’t you ever feel like you’re bothering me because you’re not, okay?”
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JAKE
“(Y/n)-ah, I made some ramyeon for us!” Jake came over to you with a steaming pot. You weakly smiled when the puppy came to sit down next to you at the table.
“I’m sorry Jake,” You said quietly. “But I’m not hungry.”
Jake set the food in front of you and pouted, “Really? But this is your favorite!”
“That’s why you should eat deliciously for the both of us,” You encouraged, patting his shoulder.
“Jagiya, I know you’ve been skipping meals recently.”
In contrast to his words, the kindness in Jake’s voice didn’t change in the slightest. You could hear the genuine concern in it though.
You’ve never had such a sweet boyfriend like Jake before. He always wanted to take care of you as much as you took care of him. So whenever something felt off about you to him, he immediately wanted to find the cause so he could help.
“I’m just on a diet, Jakey,” You ruffled his hair, trying to downplay the situation. “I’ve been wanting to lose some weight.”
“Diet?! Why?” Jake was so confused. He had never seen you like this before. “You don’t have any weight to lose, Jagi.”
You avoided eye contact, looking down at your hands.
“I just don’t like the way I look okay?” You said in almost a whisper. “I want to be pretty like all those girls in the k-pop groups.”
“But you’re just as pretty as they are, (Y/n)-ah,” Jake said, not understanding how you could think you weren’t. He absolutely adored you.
“Did someone say something? Is that why you’re dieting?”
You quickly shook your head, “No, not at all. I was just looking through Instagram the other day and I got insecure.”
“I understand how you feel. But you’re perfect the way you are,” Jake said. He made sure to be careful with his words because he didn’t want you to feel hurt.
“And you shouldn’t starve yourself,” He added, taking his chopsticks and twirling some noodles around them. “It’s not healthy and I don’t want you getting sick.”
“Jake…” You looked petulant when your boyfriend held up some food to your mouth.
“Please eat. Just one bite, I promise!”
You just couldn’t resist those brown puppy eyes of his, could you? With a defeated sigh, you let Jake feed you. When you did, he kissed you happily on the lips.
“That’s my girl!”
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SUNGHOON
“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon asked when he saw the look on your face. It was a mix between mild panic and disappointment.
Your eyes didn’t leave your phone, “I-I got 0.5 off on my math test.”
“What? That’s pretty good!” Sunghoon smiled, thinking that you were happy. But you weren’t, you really weren’t.
You knew that everyone hated that overachiever type of person who got angry when they got anything lower than an A. But it wasn’t just that for you. The standards you brought onto yourself was anything you did that was less than a 100, was considered a failure in your eyes.
“I-I don’t know what I did wrong. I should’ve studied harder,” You started to ramble to yourself. “Damn it, now my grade is going to lower.”
Sunghoon’s smile was crestfallen when he heard this. He knew how much of a perfectionist you can be but he didn’t think it was to this extent.
“(Y-Y/n)-ah, are you crying?”
You quickly swiped your cheek with the back of your hand, “I-I’m sorry. It’s just I really want to get straight As by the end of this semester.”
“I know you do. You’ve been working so hard,” Sunghoon said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself Jagi.”
“I know...but I can’t help it,” You said, trying to keep your voice stable. “I just feel like I could do so much better.”
Your boyfriend sighed, wanting to cheer you up. He understood the feeling of not being good enough.
“It’s okay to want to improve,” He told you. “But your grades don’t determine who you are (Y/n)-ah. You can fail a class and I’d still think you’re the smartest person I know.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Sunghoon’s ridiculous statement, “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”
“No, I mean it,” Sunghoon insisted. A teasing glint appeared in his eyes. “Should I show you that I mean it?”
“Sunghoon I don’t think-” You tried to say before Sunghoon shut you up with a passion-filled kiss.
He was going to make sure you knew how much he truly admired you, no matter what your expectations of yourself were.
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SUNOO
“I wasn’t yelling at you (Sister’s Name), I was just saying that-” You tried to keep your voice calm. You were flustered enough as it is because you were having an argument with your sister when your boyfriend was here.
“Stop acting like you’re better than me,” your younger sister retorted. “At least I’m not the one who cuts myself!”
Sunoo watched as your face turned red at her sister’s hurtful words. You wanted to scream and tell your sister to shut up and that she didn’t know what she was saying. But you knew that you wouldn’t be making anything better. So you stormed into your bedroom.
Sunoo quickly ran after you, “(Y/n)-ah!”
He made sure to close the door when he entered the bedroom. There you were with your head in your hands, trying not to pull your hair out.
“(Y/n)-ah…” Sunoo slowly walked over to hug you because he knew you needed one.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, “I-I can’t believe...I can’t believe she said that to my face. Sh-she has no idea how crappy I feel.”
“I know,” Sunoo spoke softly, gently patting your back. “Don’t listen to what she said about you.”
You pulled away but still held his hand, “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“It’s okay,” Sunoo reassured you. “I’m right here by your side. So you can just let it all out alright?”
You giggled when he peppered your face with kisses. He always did that whenever you were feeling down.
“Thank you, Sunoo-yah.”
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JUNGWON
It was late in the evening and you two were the only ones still awake at the dorm. You had come over earlier to bring them food and by the time everyone finished eating, it was too dark out. So Jungwon insisted that you stay the night.
That’s what brought you two sitting together on the sofa and just talking. One of Jungwon’s favorite things to do with you was to cuddle and talk for hours. You always listened to whatever was on his mind, whether it was good or bad.
But tonight was different because Jungwon wanted to listen to you talk. He didn’t want you to think that he didn’t care about your life and how you were doing. So you just told him about school and how things were going at home. Somehow the topic traveled to your mental health which was something you hated talking about with others.
“It’s okay, Jagi,” Jungwon reassured you. “You can talk to me, I promise not to judge.”
You let out a shaky sigh, “To be honest I haven’t been doing that great.”
Jungwon sat up straighter so he could listen to what you had to say. Just by your first sentence, he could tell that you’ve been holding in a lot of feelings.
“I just hate myself so much,” You confessed quietly. “And I know, I know there’s something wrong with me.
Even though he wanted to say something, he stayed silent and placed his hand on top of yours.
“But I’m afraid to get help because my-my mom has anxiety and my sister has her own problems and I-I know it’s hard for my dad to handle,” You added, feeling tears build up.
You mentally cursed yourself, you didn’t want to cry in front of Jungwon but your heart wasn’t listening to you. You couldn’t hold it in, no matter how hard you tried. Jungwon held your hand tighter when the first tears fell.
“I don’t want...I don’t want to be a burden to them and I don’t want them to see me as weak. So I decided that when I’m older I can find out what’s wrong with me. But...but sometimes I’m afraid that the longer I wait...the longer I wait...I’m scared that something bad will happen.”
At this point, any walls you had built to protect yourself were taken down. You usually never let yourself be vulnerable in front of someone. You don’t know why you were being so emotional right now. Maybe...maybe it was because you had bottled it all for so long and everything has piled up until now.
Nonetheless, Jungwon didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you. He felt upset with himself because he didn’t know you were feeling like this and he wished he had known sooner.
You harshly wiped your tears away and sniffed, “I don’t even care anymore, Jungwon-ah. I’m fine and I’m...I’m sorry for telling you all this.”
“Why are you sorry?” He frowned. “I’m your boyfriend, so you should tell me these things. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t.”
Jungwon held you tighter and kissed your forehead, “If you ever want to get help, I’m right here for you. And if you don’t then just come to me whenever you need to.”
You listened quietly to Jungwon’s comforting words and let the warmth of his hug envelop you. For the first time, you didn’t regret spilling out your heart to someone. Then just thinking about Jungwon made you realize that-
“You’re not alone Jagiya. I may not understand everything you’re going through but I love you a lot and I don’t want you to feel like a burden anymore, because you’re not.”
“You love me, Jungwon?”
Jungwon looked into your eyes for a moment before he leaned down to kiss you tenderly.
“More than you and I could ever imagine.”
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NIKI
Niki didn’t know what to think when he found you sitting on the floor, hopelessly crying in the dance practice room. You had been here since last night, trying to perfect this one choreography. But you kept making the same mistake no matter how hard you practiced. At this point, you were losing confidence and breaking down.
Niki kneeled in front of you, “(Y/n)-ah?”
“I keep screwing up this one part in the dance Niki,” You cried out in frustration.
Niki gently reached his hand to wipe your tears, “Don’t cry, (Y/n)-ah. It’s okay.”
“No it’s not okay,” You said in denial. “If I don’t get this dance right, I won’t be able to debut. And-and then I’ll let my members down, my managers, and you.”
“(Y/n)-ah, you’re going to debut. I know you are,” Niki tried to encourage you. “Everyone has those off days, even me.”
You had stopped crying by now, which left Niki feeling relieved. Still, he made sure to hug you.
“Let’s just take a break,” He said. “I promise to help you with the choreography later, okay?”
He smiled when you nodded and cutely sniffed like a bunny rabbit. He wasn’t used to taking care of others, but he learned a lot from watching his hyungs. So just like his hyungs, he was going to make sure that you didn’t overwork yourself.
❉ ╧╧╧╧ ✿ ╧╧╧╧ ❉
255 notes · View notes
batfamtv · 3 years
Text
me after writing smut: is this who i am? is this who i represent? lmao i've never written smut until trese, i guess the thirst was too much, let me know how y'all like it! thank you so much for all your support, ily <3
(ノ´ з `)ノ
kambal x reader; established relationship
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gif by @rasputinaillyanna (see their original gifsets here!)
sfw
the three idiots
seriously, alexandra feels like she keeps aging 20+ years whenever you three are together and goofing around
this is one of the reasons why you’re not allowed on the field with them, they’d get absolutely nothing done
that, and the twins simply wont put you in danger under any circumstances
alexandra also treats you like a sister (in law) and wants you safe, but can only do so much to keep you out of their lives since you still find ways to help them out
absolutely rowdy when you’re with basilio, you and him practically have a lot of inside jokes and a secret language
people would give you both weird looks when you’re out in public, just because you’re both so damn loud
with crispin you’re more mature (but not a lot), he does these grand gestures like taking you out on expensive dates, takes instagram/pinterest style pics of you
basilio also takes pics of you, but those are some of the most unflattering ones that he sends to your groupchat as memes
the ppl who arent familiar with your relationship with the twins are almost often confused when they see you with just the one twin: they’d think “huh i saw this couple a week ago, but i could have sworn the boyfriend had much shorter hair, it couldn’t have grown that long in a week, right?”
when you do go out with the twins, they flank you and you almost get squished in between them, so sometimes you have to push them both to the sides so that you would have space to move around
the three of you like to just chill at the mall sometimes, go window shopping and then eat samgyup/mang inasal later on
other times when you manage to drag alexandra with you, people would assume that you guys are on a double date, and alexandra has the ugliest/most disgusted look on her face as she corrects them “these are my brothers” “im gay”
in your groupchat (just you and the twins) crispin is the sweet, doting one who would text you “have you eaten?” “want us to pick something up for you on the way home?” while basilio sends you memes and selfies of the twins
they send you videos and pics of pets they meet “today we met brownie and blackie”
with regards to living arrangements, the twins have separate rooms (basilio’s is the messy one, smells weird)
when you moved in, alexandra offered you your own room, and most of the time that’s where the boys stay anyway
the bed is much larger than theirs because it needs to accommodate all three of you
you three try to cook meals for ate alexandra, but it almost always turns out disastrous - mostly when basilio insists on helping
so you always make him run errands (“can you go pick up some more garlic and magic sarap”) while you and crispin man the stoves
you braid basilio’s hair while crispin tunes his guitar!!
and you spend a couple of hours listening to crispin play the guitar, basilio’s head now resting on your lap
crispin’s movie taste are like *film* and *poetic cinema* while basilio might enjoy movies that are so bad they’re good, but you three are all suckers for superhero ensemble movies and horror movies
the boys become really annoying when watching filipino horror movies because they like to point out mistakes in the film “aswangs dont do that” “why would you go there all alone are you stupid???”
“please boys i just wanna watch the movie”
a huge cuddle pile
both boys run hot, so during cold nights (that never happen, bc you live in the philippines) you’re all warm and toasty between them
both light sleepers! they were pretty heavy sleepers when they were kids/teenagers, but the occupational hazard of their jobs require them to be ready at a moment’s notice
they still, however, snore quite loudly
crispin doesn’t ever tend to move positions when sleeping, he wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in
basilio rotates around the bed like hands of a clock
most often falls off the bed, but clumsily climbs back up and cuddles you
really really simpy when it comes to you, though most of the time it’s just you three sharing one brain cell (it’s with you, mostly), they can be quite romantic and cheesy if they want to
crispin probably has his brother as just “Basilio” on his phone, and “Y/N ❤️" for you
basilio has “my love ❤️😍😘💘 ” for you and crispin’s number isn’t even registered lol
nsfw under the cut
nsfw
threesome? threesome
boys barely do anything separately and usually just have a Single Thought in both their heads, so if one is horny, the other one is 69% (lol) horny as well
you realize that crispin doesn’t like to be teased at work, but basilio enjoys it so much
you find this out when you’re alone and horny, so you send a pic of you touching yourself to the boys in your groupchat
crispin sees it first, but doesn’t say anything?? he honest to god just left you on read
meanwhile basilio also sees your pic not too long after and you quickly get a “what the fuck” as a reply from him
like 10 mins later he sends you a pic of him in what looks like a washroom and his cock is straining in his pants
he texts you “had to find a washroom so fucking fast so that ate alex and the police captain doesn’t see me so fucking hard in my pants” and “wanna eat you pussy babe”
crispin does text you when the three are on their way home, not mentioning the picture you sent “we’re on our way home”
and at first you thought he is mad at you bc he didn’t bring the nude up?? does he not want you anymore :(
but the moment they arrive crispin all but sprints to your shared bedroom and sees you there, in your underwear
holds your cheeks in one hand, “what the fuck was that baby, hmm? what did you send us?”
you try to ask if he’s mad bc you sent him a nude, ask him if there’s anything wrong, but he just lets your face go as he takes his suit off, basilio finds his way to your room, locks it, and gives you a kiss
basilio whispers “missed you baby” against your mouth before moving away to undress
crispin, now fully naked in front of you, makes you suck his cock, which is hard and twitching, its tip leaking with precum, he makes you place both his hands on your head, “do you know how surprised i was when i saw a text from you and it’s a picture of you touching your cunt? hmm?” he sighs as he sees you looking up at him, eyes watering as you struggle to take all of his cock down your throat “i had to stop myself from getting hard in front of everyone, baby, basilio couldn’t even do that”
basilio huffs but the boys reposition you so you’re in bed and on your back, crispin kneeling to your side, his cock still throbbing in your mouth, basilio positions himself between your thighs, moaning when he sees how wet you are
basilio removes your panties before rushing to sniff your cunt, groaning in delight--you’re sure his eyes roll to the back of his head before he dives into your cunt
you moan into crispin’s cock and he grunts, shoving more of his cock into your mouth, now moving faster, “i really wanna cum down your throat baby, would you let me?”
you nod and he pushes his cock all the way into your mouth, your nose practically touching his groin and pubes
you gag, for a moment panicked as you try to breathe in, while crispin just eyes you, his cock growing ever harder when he looks at your face wet with tears and drool, he grabs your hair, softly at first, to make sure you’re okay, and when you nod crispin groans as he sets up his pace, groaning as he feels his orgasm building
basilio, meanwhile, is licking and sucking your clit with three fingers knuckles deep in your cunt, and when he starts to feel you spasming, a telltale sign that your orgasm is approaching, he pulls his mouth and fingers out and quickly replacing them with his fat cock
immediately, you and basilio both groan, your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel yourself so full of cock
basilio curses under his breath before taking your legs and resting them against his shoulders “fuck, y/n, im sorry i’m not gonna last long” “your pussy got me so fucking hard you tasted so good baby, you know how much i love your little pussy, right?”
crispin groans at this before he pulls his cock out of your mouth, leaning down to kiss you, he then moves down your neck and your tits, making sure he marks your chest
basilio whimpers and thrusts three more times before releasing a long groan, his cum exploding deep in your pussy “fuck baby you feel so good” he manages to pull out and you see his cock wet with his cum and your juices before settling beside you, panting harshly
you barely had the type to recuperate before crispin flips you on your stomach, making sure your face is resting on the pillows before he thrusts into you with a grunt
“fuck, still a tight little pussy after basilio rammed your cunt, huh?”
your eyes rolling, you couldnt do much other than hold onto the sheets and basilio’s hand, moaning loudly when you feel crispin’s fingers on your clit
“can you take one more, y/n? can your pussy take one more load?”
speechless, you nod, trying to grind your ass against crispin’s hips, but his hands on your hips hold you firm
he grunts approvingly, “good baby, take it deep in your pussy okay? and cum on my cock, baby, i wanna feel it”
you cum on his cock, almost violently, and twins groan at the sound of your moaning, and the sight of you spasming and shaking on crispin’s cock
a couple of deep thrusts later, crispin also cums deep into your pussy, his cum now mixed with basilio’s
crispin moves to get a washcloth to clean the three of you up, before all three of you collapse in bed, huddled together, basilio with his arms wrapped from behind--already falling asleep, you rest your head against crispin’s arm
“so, no more nudes when you’re at work?”
crispin laughs softly before pressing a kiss on your forehead, “unless your cunt is ready to take two cocks at once, no nudes when we’re at work”
383 notes · View notes
talesofstyles · 4 years
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Stitches and Pucks
i swear i tried writing the whole fic from the 3rd and 2nd pov in the beginning but hockey harry is so dang loud he’s like hang on honey this is MY story so let me tell this one ☠️ so here we are. i had loads of fun getting inside his head though, i hope you like it!
massive thank you to my biggest cheerleader @smokeinherperfume 🥺💛 and ken i’m so sorry for making you read an LA Kings fic 😂 @emotionally-imbruised
warning: smut. there’s no actual bow chicka wow wow stuff though but there’s some thigh riding 👀
[17k]
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Harry
I swear I’m gonna kill Zayn.
That fucker just slammed my face into the boards, and as I’m trying to push back while flexing my jaw because that’s the right thing to do when you’ve got your face smashed into the boards, he tries to push me back again. Well, not a fucking chance. I give a particularly hard push back to get him off my back and I’m able to free my stick from the boards and put the blade to ice.
Because we’re playing on home ice here at Staples Center and I know its speed and consistency like the back of my hand, it takes nothing but a short tap on the puck and it shoots back between both of our legs. We scrabble, throwing elbows and shoulders and even kicking at it with our skates to expel it out. It’s a hard-fought battle, probably not lasting more than a few seconds, but it’s starting to wind me up because fuck if I’m gonna let them score. We’re up 4-2 against The Sharks, and with only under six minutes left to play in the game, I’d like to keep it that way.
I really don’t see it coming. And as much as we hate each other’s guts, it probably wasn’t even intentional, but it still hurts like a mother when Zayn’s stick pops upward, the end catching me just above my left eyebrow. I don’t feel any pain at first, but red, blurred vision definitely lets me know I’ve got blood streaming down my face. The ref blows the whistle and the play stops as the penalty is called.
The pain hits me next, and I bend over at the waist, my clear eye watching as a stream of blood hits the ice and freezes. In just about a few seconds, I feel a towel covering the cut and I hear the new team doctor say, “alright… let’s get you off the ice.”
Her hand stays steady at my back as I lift up straight, taking the towel in my own hand to hold it in place. The doctor walks alongside me while I skate to the bench, which has an exit door on one end that will lead back to the locker room. A few of my teammates slap me on the shoulder as I walk past. Harvey, who plays the same position as me but on the second-line yells out, “get stitched up so you can come back out and kick his pansy ass.”
I can’t help but chuckle, because that’s exactly what I plan to do.
“Up on the table,” the doctor says briskly and I watch with my one good eye as she quickly starts preparing the necessary supplies. I hop up onto the table, and in just under four minutes, my very own Doctor McSteamy has my injury evaluated, lidocaine injected, and is now closing the cut with stitches.
Good grief, she’s a fucking vision. Has a slammin’ body too, which no doubt would feel fucking fantastic underneath me. She probably doesn’t even realise it, but she’s got her little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and I bet that’s something she does when she’s trying to concentrate on what she’s doing. I can feel my dick starting to twitch, so I close my eyes and get my mind out of the gutter before I get a hard-on. Fucking embarrassing.
When I’m sure I’ve got my downstairs head situation under control, I open my eyes again. She’s placing what I’m guessing the last suture on the cut and I make sure I put on my most dazzling smile as I look at her because I can be devastatingly charming when I want to be.
“Hey Doc,” I lean a bit closer to her when she’s done and murmur, “you should let me cook you dinner at my place tonight. You know, as a thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she replies without even looking towards me, preferring to busy herself with putting away the supplies that she used to tend to my cut. “I was just doing my job.”
“Alright then, no dinner at my place tonight,” I say with a sly smile. “But how about giving me your number so I can take you out sometime?”
She snorts in reply. “I’m not one of your puck bunnies.”
“No, you’re not,” I smirk at her. My tone is matter-of-fact when I add, “you’re one hot doctor.”
Not sure what I’m expecting, but this is definitely not it. Most women would blush and drop their knickers in an instant when I give them the tiniest bit of my attention, let alone a compliment, and let’s just say that’s why my bed is rarely empty. But it seems like my charms don’t work on this doctor since all I get is a fucking eye-roll.
“Are you always this forward?” She asks, still not looking at me.
“I’m a simple man, Doc,” I tell her with a shrug. “I see something I like, I go and get it.”
“Good for you,” she says dismissively, but I don’t miss the hint of amusement in her tone.
“Does that mean I get your number?”
She lets out a chuckle and finally turns to look at me. “That means I like your way of thinking.”
“So, no number?” I pout like a damn child, and apparently, the sight is hilarious to her. She throws her head back and laughs, and when she looks back to me, I get a wink.
“Sorry sunshine,” she smirks at me and I can’t help but ogle at her lips.
Perfect fucking lips.
“I don’t shit where I eat,” she adds.
Now, this is funny, so this time I’m the one tipping my head back laughing before I bring my gaze back to her. “You know our General Manager, Sloane Knightley?”
“Of course,” she replies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“She’s with Alex, right-winger,” I tell her with a grin. “Now, Brynne Adams, have you met her yet?”
“The Athletic Trainer?”
“That’s the one, and she’s dating Matt, left-winger.”
“What?” Her jaw drops and it’s the cutest fucking sight. I’ve always thought of myself as a tits-man, but apparently now I’m a jaws-man too.
“Oh I’m not done yet,” I smirk at her. “Sarah Jones, Head of Equipment Manager, do you know her?”
She nods. “I’ve met her twice.”
“She’s with Mitch, right defenseman. Now, you probably haven’t met this one yet, but our goalie, Adam, is the only one married between us first-line players. His wife, Rachel, is the head of our in-house legal team. So look around Doc, everyone’s bloody shitting and eating around here,” I finish with a grin.
“Yeah, that doesn’t change a thing,” she insists. “That won’t be me.”
I give her one last glance as I hop off the table before I walk towards the door, pretty sure my eyes glitter with mischief as I say, “yeah, we’ll see, sunshine.”
The Owner’s Box is a local sports bar in El Segundo. Located only a stone’s throw away from the team’s practice facility at Toyota Sports Center, it has become the go-to hangout for a lot of the players ever since the facility opened in 2000. I like this place because it carries 140 types of beer and I like beer, and honestly the food is great as well.
As much as we like to mix and mingle with the fans, which is super fucking cool in my opinion, the manager always ropes off an area on the second floor for the players so we can drink and chill out without fans swamping us. Usually when we arrive, we’ll hang around the first-floor bar area for a bit to give the fans an opportunity to take pictures and ask for autographs before we head upstairs.
It’s always crowded after the game because everyone knows they can find us here, but it always gets extra busy whenever we win. Tonight, there’s an actual line of people waiting to get inside.
I nod at a bouncer and enter, and it takes me a good half an hour to make it to the second floor where I find several of my teammates sitting at some of the tables or standing around talking.
Winding around tables, teammates, and hot women since several puck bunnies have been allowed to go up the second floor and are doing their best to get noticed by the players wearing outfits that fit them like a second skin, I make my way over to Alex and Matt who are already sitting at one of the tables nursing their beers. Those two are my best friends since we’re linemates, but normally I’d go stand over with the single guys and start my selection process for whatever woman who’d warm my bed for the night.
Not tonight though. Never thought this day would come but I’m not here for a hookup tonight.
Alex gives me a knowing grin as I sit down since I told him in the locker room after the game about my exchange with the hot doctor earlier when she tended to my cut and how she turned me down. Well, he and several other of my teammates since there were a few there in the locker room with us and they had ears to listen. I’m pretty sure I could even hear Mitch chuckle, which is honestly one of the world’s seven wonders since the guy barely talks let alone laughs.
“How’s that cut feeling?” Matt asks as I take a seat in front of him.
“Feels like a butterfly kissed me there,” I tell him, which gets a deep belly laugh from both him and Alex. We hockey players would never admit to being hurt in a fight. Ever.
The voices in the second floor immediately go silent and I see all eyes swing towards the stairs, and when I look there I see our General Manager walks in alongside Coach Higgins, followed by some staff of the team. Cheers start ringing as she walks towards our table, no doubt to sit next to her man, and then I hear a low chant, “Sloane! Sloane! Sloane! Sloane!”
Matt and I do the same since not only Sloane is more of a close friend rather than a boss who signs our paycheck once she steps outside of the GM office, but as the only female GM in the league, she managed to turn our team into champions. We won the Stanley Cup last season and no doubt she’s going to push us to victory again this season. Alex has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as his gaze focuses on his girl, looking so damn proud of her. Man, my best friend is fucking whipped.
Sloane blushes, slides a grin to Alex, and when the sound dissipates and the guys all start sitting back down, she says, “shut up you big jerks, do you want me to cry?”
We all bark in laughter.
I stand up to give her access to the booth so she can sit between Alex and I, and Alex immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders when she’s within his reach to pull her closer to him and proceeds to give her a searing kiss. I whip my head at Matt and we both make a fake gagging noise.
“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Matt says and Alex flips him off, still giving his woman a hell of a kiss and without even looking at us.
“I know, right? Not used to you being so fucking mushy mate,” I add. “Gives me the willies.”
Sloane laughs as she breaks the kiss. She leans over and playfully punches me in the arm. “You’ll have a good woman one day, Harry.”
“Yeah,” I drawl, then I give a faux shudder to make sure they understand I like being single. “No thanks.”
“You sure?” Matt cocks an eyebrow, but before I can reply, something behind me catches his attention. “Ooh, isn’t that the new doctor?”
I whip around so fast I fucking knock a bottle of ketchup off the table and it goes flying across the floor. Matt is laughing so damn hard he almost falls off from the booth, Alex is leaning over as he laughs, pressing one palm down on the sofa with the other to his ribs as if they hurt from laughing and Sloane is dabbing at her eyes as she laughs hysterically.
But yes, holy shit, that’s the doctor stepping off the stairs and onto the second floor with Brynne and Sarah. Now, I know Brynne will most definitely walk towards our table since Matt is here, but Sarah will most definitely walk towards the bar where Mitch is talking with some other guys.
Come here. Come here. Come here.
Fuck, she goes with Sarah to the bar.
“Oh no,” Alex says low and in warning. “I know that look.”
I don’t bother to give him my attention, keeping my eyes pinned on my girl. But I do ask him, “what look?”
“Your gaze just became predatory,” he says with a laugh.
“God, you have it bad for her,” Sloane teases but I ignore her as I stand up. Brynne gives me a wink when I walk past her and now I have a suspicion that my teammates blabbed to their women about what happened earlier tonight and now they’re trying to set me and the hot doctor up. Otherwise, why would she even be here? Fucking crazy, I know, but they’re all nuts.
“Go get her, tiger!” Matt quips as I walk towards the bar without looking back at their table.
The doctor has ditched the white lab coat that she wore earlier tonight at the arena, and I’m glad she has her back to me since I don’t make a secret of my ogling. My eyes are pinned to her ass in those skinny jeans and fucks sake I need to get a grip.
“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine,” I say with a smile as I stand next to her, trying to get her attention. That was lame, I know, and I feel like I want to punch myself for not being cool.
She laughs and fuck if that’s not the best sound in the world. It’s warm, rich, and husky, which warms my blood and speaks to my dick for some reason. Not sure if she’s laughing because she genuinely thinks I’m funny or is that just a pity laugh, but honestly I could listen to her laughing all day. Wouldn’t be opposed to hearing her moan one day, preferably with her underneath me, but if her laugh is all I can get at this moment then I’ll take it.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask her and I mentally prepare myself for her to decline since she turned me down earlier in the arena, so it totally takes me by surprise when she only shrugs and says, “eh, why not.”
I’m sure my smile is ten times wider and she sees it. “What’s your poison?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“What if I want the hard stuff?” I raise a single brow. “Sure you want that?”
“What?” She smirks at me and my inner caveman is screaming for me at the sight to just throw her over my shoulder and take her home right this instant. But obviously I won’t do that, since I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping and I know I won’t look good in prison stripes. “You don’t think I can take it?”
“Oh honey, I know you can take it,” I laugh as I lift my finger to the bartender. “I’m only wondering how you’ll handle it.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”
It’s three hours and many beers later, well for her anyway since I limit myself at two because I’m driving, and we’re stumbling out of the bar, laughing our asses off.
She’s telling me about the funniest thing that happened at the hospital a few months ago. At the beginning they thought they had a domestic situation because the couple came separately; one via ambulance and one via police car. But when they finally got the whole story, it turned out to be an anniversary celebration gone wrong since the wife had a seizure when she was going down on her husband and bit down on him.
“Are you joking?!” I stare at her, mouth gaping in astonishment before I burst out laughing hysterically.
She shakes her head and laughs with me. “I wish.”
“Did you manage to save his manhood?” I ask with a half-grin and half grimace.
“My colleague did,” she replies. “I was busy with the wife, she had rather extensive head trauma.”
“From the seizure?”
“Well, in panic and pain, her husband didn’t think much and just grabbed the closest thing he could find to try to get her to loosen her bite, which sadly was an old rotary style telephone and hit her in the head with it. She was okay in the end, though.”
“That’s one hell of an anniversary to remember for sure,” I chuckle, and the giggle she emits pretty much confirms she’s bladdered. Well, not the kind of drunk where she wouldn’t remember tonight I’m sure, but I bet she’ll wake up with a massive headache.
“I sure hope you’re not driving,” I say as I steady her by the elbow when she wobbles as we step down the stairs.
“Sarah, Brynne and I took an Uber here from the arena earlier,” she mutters as she pulls out her phone from her handbag.
“Let me drive you home,” I quickly say before she gets the chance to order a ride. Not sure why I did that because I certainly have never offered women a ride home without the promise of getting in their knickers, and I can assure you that I won’t be getting anywhere near hers tonight, but maybe I just don’t want this night to end yet.
We’ve been glued at the hip from the moment I bought her first drink, and three hours purely just talking with the same woman? That’s a record in my book. While I’m not ashamed to admit that I also like looking at her, honestly, to me that’s just an added bonus. I think it’s safe to say that I have never met anyone like her before. Granted, with most women usually there wasn’t much talking, but from what I learnt in just the span of three hours is that this doctor of mine is a hell of a lot of fun.
I swear she’s just a pure fucking joy to be around. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. She’s bright and witty and she’s one of those people that knows no strangers. She can easily talk about anything from politics to sports even to crude jokes, and add on to that, she’s just so kind and inclusive that several times tonight I actually had to drag her away to one of the back tables so we could have a proper chat without the crowd around us.
“You don’t have to,” she gives me a hesitantly sweet smile.
“But I want to,” I gallantly insist as I turn and offer my arm to her. “Come on, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”
“Well, alright then,” she smirks, her hand easily slides into the crook of my elbow. “I could save a few bucks.”
I roll my eyes and tease her, “didn’t take you to be such a skinflint.”
“Hey!” She playfully slaps my arm with her other hand as she laughs and I’m glad I amuse her.
No, seriously... I like her laugh.
There’s no doubt that she wants me, just as there’s no doubt that I totally want her. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on all night, and plenty of innuendo, but I won’t be surprised nor disappointed if she doesn’t invite me inside when we get to her home and nothing happens tonight.
We’ll get there, I’m sure.
Until then, I’m completely fine drinking beer, being her personal chauffeur, and getting to know her a little better.
We always finish team practice with battle drills. From the end zone face-off spot to either the left or right of the goalie, we pair up and battle for a goal. One on offense, the other on defense, we shoulder, bump, and juke our way across the short distance to the net. It’s a four to five second drill that will make us sweat, and then it’s over. We skate to the end of the line, where we wait to do it again.
“Saw you left with the new doctor last night,” says Matt, my battle partner today, with a shit-eating grin as he taps his stick against my leg. “How was she?”
I ignore his question not only because I don’t have the answer that he’s looking for because nothing really happened after I dropped her in front of her house, but also because this feels different. She is different. Had it been just another one night stand, I wouldn’t think twice before I blab all about the dirty details with my teammates. Great lays, lousy lays, I honestly have no filter and I tell them all.
But this is YN, and fuck if I know why and what this really means. All I know for sure is that I want more than to just tap that. The thing is, my teammates will probably not understand because they can’t really see past the fact that the new doctor is a gorgeous woman who I’ve been lusting after for about a week.
“Dude,” Matt says to get a reaction from me, smacking me a little bit harder with his stick. “How many times did you score her last night?”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl.
“Whoa, dude,” he apologises and I swear his grin gets even wider. “Sorry. I guess you’re serious about her?”
“Serious about what?” Alex pipes up from in front of us. He’s paired with Adam, our goalie. There are four pairs of skaters in front of Matt and me, but there’s an equal number on the other side. We’re alternating.
“None of your fucking business,” I mutter, willing the line we’re in to go faster so I can escape from my nosy teammates and head to the doctor’s office.
Alex and Adam take off, Alex with the puck. They ram their shoulders into each other, legs braced and skates digging hard all the way to the net.
“Did you at least kiss her?” Matt nudges me with a sly grin, still trying. Man, he’s not a quitter.
“No,” I answer shortly, hoping that will satisfy him. “Just dropped her at her house and left after I made sure she got inside safely.”
“No. Fucking. Way,” he quips dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my teammate?”
Play continues, the next set of skaters in our line taking off and I ignore Matt but apparently he’s not done poking his nose in my business. “Oh, we’re not done yet buddy. Let’s go out tonight so we can squeeze some more gos out of you. Just you, Alex and I, how does that sound? Brynne said the girls are going to have a girls night out so I know he’ll be game.”
The girls means my teammates’ better halves, and honestly, hanging out with just my bros does sound good. Don’t get me wrong, those girls are cool—yes, my boss, Sloane, included—and they’re fun to hang out with. My teammates sure hit the jackpots with their women. But before Sloane and Brynne came along, the three of us were thick as thieves. There was a time where we went out almost every night and that’s why we’re more like brothers than teammates. Sometimes I miss that since we don’t get the chance to do it as often now that they act like old married couples, so yes, this does sound nice.
However, as tempting as it sounds, I want to hang out with my hot doctor more than my mates. That is if she’ll have me though.
“I can’t,” I say, clearing my throat. I lean in towards him and whisper, “I want to take YN out to dinner tonight.”
“Seriously,” he drawls dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”
Again, I ignore his comment.
“Alright, I guess that’s a definite no to dinner with me and Alex then, huh?” Matt says in an exaggeratedly glum tone.
“The doctor is way prettier than you,” I reply blandly.
“Fine, go on your date,” he says with a slap on my back. “But I want to book some time with my best friend in the near future if it’s not too much trouble.”
“We’re going on a four day road trip in two weeks,” I mutter as I roll my eyes at him. “I’ll snuggle you then.”
Matt sidles up to me, lays his head on my shoulder, and bats his eyelashes. “Oooh, I can’t wait.”
I shove him off with a chuckle. That bastard.
“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,” I say after two knocks on her office door. I can hear her chuckle as she tells me to come in.
God, I have turned into such a dork. But I like hearing her laugh and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear that sound again and again.
“Hey,” she smiles at me as she looks up from her computer. “What’s wrong?”
“Knee’s a little sore,” I tell her, not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for my lie just so I can have a few moments to talk to her. “Thought you could take a look at it.”
Her brows draw inward with concern and she motions towards a table. “Did something happen?”
“Nah,” I shake my head as I hop onto the table with my legs hanging over the edge and kick off my slides. “Just came off the ice and noticed it.”
“Alright, go ahead and lie back,” she says as she turns to the sink and washes her hands. “I’m going to do some range-of-motion tests.”
I stay silent as she maneuvers my leg, trying not to focus too much on the feel of her soft hands against me or the smell of her perfume. Fuck, she smells good. Fruity and flowery. Like berries and the heart of rose and bitter wormwood, and the scent is fucking delicious.
“Do you feel any pain when I do this?” She asks with one hand on my calf, the other on my thigh as she rotates my knee.
“Not really,” I shake my head. What happens here today will go in my chart and I don’t want to call any attention to my knee.
“How about this?” She asks, rotating the opposite way.
I shake my head again. “Nope.”
The hand on my calf slides down, grasping the bottom of my foot firmly. With the other hand still holding onto my thigh, she pushes hard into my foot. “This cause any pain?”
“Nope,” I say quickly, and then add, “I think it’s nothing more than my muscles getting back in shape. But I figure some ice can’t hurt, right?”
She slowly lowers my leg and gives me a sweet smile. “Well, I don’t think anything’s loose or torn, but if you’re worried about it, I can schedule an appointment with Dr Green.”
She is the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, and hell I’m not about to do that. Talk about an unnecessary red flag. “I think it’s just a lack of conditioning. Got lazy this summer.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I nod firmly. “I just need some ice and I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Well, alright then,” she says as she turns back to wash her hands again at the sink. “I’ll let Brynne know and have her prepare you an ice bath.”
“Oh hell no,” I quickly shake my head and grimace. “That bloody thing is pure torture and my balls will go into hibernation until next summer. Just an ice pack will do, Doc.”
She laughs again. “Okay, just an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”
She turns and heads through the door to the treatment room and I take a moment to admire her gracefulness as she moves. She looks delectable today in her scrubs, which are the typical light blue you see in the hospitals, and they hang on her tiny frame loosely. I’d actually never seen her in them before since she usually just wears normal clothes underneath her white lab coat in the arena, but I swear this might possibly be the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen her in. I’m sure that has to do with the fact that I respect her so much as a doctor that it just heightens my attraction to her, and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll play dress-up games with me in the bedroom when the time comes. Because, well… I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from her.
“Here you go,” she says when she comes back. “Scoot back on the table and stretch your leg out. Keep this on for twenty minutes, then you can go.”
She places a towel over my knee, then lays the bag of ice on top.
“Thanks, Doc,” I tell her.
“Just doing my job,” she quips, and then walks back over to the box of supplies she had been unloading.
“Well, you’re very good at it,” I add and I can hear her chuckle. But I got nothing in response, so I add, “speaking about good things… I had a good time last night.”
“Did you?” She quips, still not looking at me but I can hear from her tone that she’s smiling.
“Well, yeah,” I say with a confident nod. “Didn’t you?”
“Eh, it was alright,” she smirks at me over her shoulder as she walks towards her desk.
“I want to do that again,” I tell her nonchalantly before I ask with a lopsided grin that I hope she finds charming, “will you let me take you to dinner tonight?”
“I can’t,” she shakes her head as she turns to look at me.
“Why? Got a hot date already?”
“Nah,” she chuckles. “Sarah invited me to a girls night at her place. I wasn’t gonna go because they seem like a tight-knit group and I don’t want to intrude, but Sloane came by here earlier to ask me again and she’s bribing me with tacos and margaritas, and well… I can’t say no to both.”
“Fair enough,” I laugh. “But have fun then. They’re all really nice, you’ll fit right in.”
“Thanks,” she gives me an easy smile, and I hope it’s subtle enough that she doesn’t realise this, but my breath actually hitch a little while I stare at her lips.
“How about tomorrow night then?”
“Well-” she begins, but she’s cut short when she hears her pager beeping. “Oh shit, I need to go back to the hospital. You think you’re okay there? Go to Brynne if you need something else.”
“Okay, don’t worry,” I tell her with an encouraging smile. “You go and save some lives, Doc.”
The arena is packed, the fans are at a fever pitch, and we’re in the midst of a fierce battle with the Anaheim Ducks. We’d taken them on in the first round of the playoffs last season, and while we swept them, they’re still a formidable opponent. Not to mention there’s a long-standing rivalry between the two teams, and add on to that, we’re in the regular season now so every win counts. The pressure is on.
As a center, I’m a shooter, not a fighter. That means I’m relied on to score, not to play defense or get tough with other players. My body is too valuable to mess it up in a slugfest, so I’m rarely enticed into a fight. Sometimes it takes everything in me to keep my cool, but I know I’ve got to trust Mitch and Marcel, our defensemen.
Just like right now. We’re late in the second period tonight, and one of the Ducks players, Jeff Azoff, is being a dick. He cross-checked me in the back, not strong enough to slam me into the boards, but it was enough to alert Mitch who’s skating right behind us.
“Do that again and I’m going to kick your ass,” I hear Mitch tell him. That guy doesn’t really talk, but he wouldn’t think twice before beating the hell out of someone if they mess with our team. He takes his job as a defenseman seriously. When he’s on the ice, nobody dares to touch his guys.
The fucker did it again, still not forceful enough for a penalty to be called, but Mitch was quick to drop his gloves and took on that Azoff guy. He kicked his ass good.
Man, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. Mitch is a badass. Unfortunately though, the fucker did land a lucky hit to his temple and his skin split just to the side of his eyebrow. Knowing Mitch, that will be nothing but a ten-minute trip to the treatment room where YN will stitch him up. I’m sure as hell he wouldn’t let her give him anaesthetic so he can get back on the ice as soon as possible. As I watch him skate towards the exit, I make a mental note in my head to buy him a beer tonight as a thank you.
The play resumed, and there are about forty seconds left on the clock before intermission. The Ducks are down 3-0, and they pull their goalie once they gain possession of the puck since they have nothing to lose. Luckily our stamina is stellar, so our legs are still fresh as we defend.
They pass the puck back and forth, looking for the long shot or a quick dump inside for a goal. My back is to Adam, our goalie, as I keep myself facing the action, letting my stick play loose.
The crowd’s screams escalate in tune to the clock ticking closer to zero. With a sharp flick of the wrist, the puck makes it past Alex, our right-winger, to the inside. Players crash the net, Marcel poke checks, and the biscuit shoots out towards me.
It’s a full-on breakaway as I shoot down the ice, one on one against the goalie.
Tap, tap, tap… back and forth… puck to blade of stick.
I close in on the goalie and juke left.
He goes left and I juke right.
He keeps going left, so I keep going right and flip the puck up and over his shoulder into the back of the net. The red light burns bright behind the net and the fans go wild. That was my third goal tonight, and it’s the perfect timing for intermission since there’s no way we can play with all the hats being thrown onto the ice.
It takes merely a second before I’ve got my teammates surrounding me. Alex, Matt, Marcel, Adam and Niall, one of the defensemen from the second line who’s filling in for Mitch. Pats of their gloved hands on my helmet, stick blades gently against my calves.
We skate to the gate that would lead us to our locker room. We all trudge there, taking up spots around the open space as we wait for Coach Higgins to address us. It’s what he does at the end of every period. If we play poorly, we get our asses handed to us. If we play stellar though, like tonight, he’d be effusive in his praise.
But as much as I’d love to hear nice things from the Coach, there’s nobody I want to see more than my very own Doctor McSteamy. And yes, just to put it out here since I’ve been calling the hot doctor by that nickname, I’ve got to admit that I did watch too much Grey’s Anatomy in the summer because there’s not much I could do during the off-season. My sister didn’t let me watch past season 10 though, because she said it’s not worth it.
“Need to get my knee taped,” I tell Alex on my right as I stand up. We have 17 minutes before we start the third period and I figure that should be enough time to see the Doctor and secure a date in the near future. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bullshit,” he grins and there’s a clear amusement in his eyes. “You want to see your girlfriend.”
“Shut up,” I growl.
“What’s this?” Matt asks curiously as he takes a seat next to Alex.
“Our buddy here wants to see his girlfriend,” Alex’s grin doesn’t lessen as he tilts his head at me. “Needs to get his knee taped, he said.”
“Conjugal visit in-between periods? Classy,” Matt says with a salacious grin and I glare at him. When his laughter dies down, he points out, “okay, jokes aside, that’s a shit excuse. If you really need your knee taped, you’d see Brynne and not YN.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing else here,” I grumble like a stroppy child. “Can’t hit my own head just to get a cut, can I?”
“That would be outright dumb,” Alex laughs. “But come on, I’ll go to Brynne and make up something so at least you can tell the doctor that she’s busy.”
The treatment room is just down the hall from the locker, and when I get there, I notice the door is half open. I see her sitting on the little desk with her computer, so I knock lightly on the door to get her attention.
“Hey, you got a minute?” Her head swings up when she hears my voice and it takes everything in me not to just march there and kiss the fuck out of her when she offers me the sweetest smile. Crazy how much effect this woman has on me. “I need my knee taped but Brynne’s busy.”
“Sure, I was just reading the players’ medical chart,” she replies. “You were on fire out there by the way.”
“Thanks, Doc,” I smile at her.
“Skates, socks, shin pads and pants off,” she says as she walks towards the supply cabinet.
“Jock strap too?” I can’t help but smirk.
“No,” she rolls her eyes playfully as she grabs a towel and hands it to me. “Put this over your lap.”
“Do I have to?”
“Well, yeah, unless you want me to get a peek of your dick.”
“You know I wouldn’t be averse to that, Doc,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows.
She gives me a school teacher, disapproving-type look but the slight twitch of amusement in the corner of her mouth is hard to miss. “You’re so bad.”
“You have no idea,” I grin, but she doesn’t see it because she has her back to me. She’s pulling another cabinet open to get adhesive, gauze and tape before knocking it close with her shoulder.
This is ridiculous but I’m actually a bit self-conscious of getting practically half naked in front of the hot doctor. I have absolutely no clue why and this had certainly never happened before.
I shed my gear from the waist down and she keeps her back to me until I get on the therapy table and the towel is covering my lap. She lays out her supplies on the table beside us, her slender fingers using a pair of scissors to open a new package of tape.
I take a moment to admire her as she cuts off uniform lengths of tape and attaches them to the table. She’s not in the scrubs I saw her in last week, but if you think I’d be disappointed, even just slightly, then you’d be wrong because you could put her in a burlap sack and to me she would still absolutely look edible.
Tonight, she’s rocking a mustard-yellow trouser suit with wide legs and a cross-over pleated blouse underneath her white lab coat. The crisscross swath of silk that wraps around her upper body does lovely things to her tits, and I realise I’m quite the pig to be thinking about her this way.
“Left knee?” She asks. “I’ve just finished reading your medical chart when you came in. Arthroscopic medical meniscus repair two years ago.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Sometimes it feels a little loose. A good taping is all it needs.”
“Any soreness?” She asks as she steps up in between my legs that dangle over the table.
I shake my head and say, “nope.”
“Clicking or popping?”
“Nope.”
“Locking?” She inquires as she lifts her face up to mine.
She’s fucking close enough I can smell her minty breath. I could easily kiss her, but I’d probably get kneed in the nuts, so I just shake my head and say, “nah, just feels a little loose.”
“Okay,” she says, laying a soft pat on my thigh. It’s nothing but a move of reassurance, but fuck if I don’t feel it all the way through my gut.
She grabs her supplies and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she gets to work taping my knee. It takes merely a few minutes, and then she finishes the wrap, holding the end while taping it with the precut pieces. “There you go,” she says, stepping back.
“I’ve got something to confess. My knee was absolutely fine,” I blurt out, the words popping out of my mouth so suddenly, I’ve got no clue where they came from. Clearly my subconscious decided to overtake my sensibility and make itself known. “I came here because I wanted to see you. Thought I’d try to get your phone number and a date one last time before I give up.”
She gives a tinkling laugh. “You’re not a quitter, are you?”
“Well, no,” I reply with a grin. “So, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven. How does that sound?”
“Listen,” she smiles at me sweetly as she begins, but I don’t like the sound of it. Nothing good ever comes after ‘listen’. “You’re a nice guy-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I cut her as I hold my hands up. “Don’t go with the ‘nice guy’ brush off. Clearly I’m not if you won’t give me the time of day.”
“I just don’t think we’re looking for the same thing-”
“What?” I ask incredulously.
“Look, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem more like the bang ‘em and leave ‘em type to me.”
“Is that really how people see me?” I ask her curiously, without an ounce of defense in my voice because there’s no point in denying that. I really don’t care what people think, but I’d like to hear her opinion.
“You’re a player, Harry,” she says with a chuckle. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young and in your prime. You should totally be sowing all your wild oats. It’s just… I’m at the point in my life where I realise that meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling. I don’t want that anymore.”
I feel a metaphorical light bulb goes off in my head.
I know she doesn’t mean to, but fuck, she hits me right where it hurts. She’s called that exactly right. This is something that I’ve actually realised and known for a while, especially after seeing my best mates being the happiest they’ve ever been after they found their women. There’s not an ounce of regret in what I did though, because just like my girl right here said, there’s nothing wrong with that. There was a time when burning my way through all the hot women in LA and having them take turns warming my bed had its appeal, but not anymore.
Maybe this is why I’ve been feeling unfulfilled lately. I know I’ve got a great career, more money than I could ever need in a lifetime and endless selection of gorgeous women to warm my bed every night. What more could a man possibly ask for, right? But at the end of the day, it’s just me in a monstrosity of a house that I call home.
Maybe deep down I know I don’t want it to be just me anymore.
“I think I’ve actually known that for a while, but the way you point that out, I think it’s drilled home now,” I admit as I face her.
“What do you mean?”
“That casual, meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling,” I say with a smile. “I mean, yes what I did was fun, but then I look at my best mates and see how happy they are with their women. Of course I rib them good because hey, that’s my job as their best mate…”
She laughs.
“...but that doesn’t mean I never look at them and think, fuck, I want that one day. Maybe the idea didn’t really appeal to me because I had never found the right person, who knows. But I swear I don’t want just sex with you. I want more. Do I know what I’m doing? Fuck, no. I haven’t even been on a proper date in years. But I do know that I genuinely want to get to know you better, Doc, that is if you give me the chance.”
She gives me a dopey smile when she asks, “you mean all that?”
“I really do,” I nod solemnly. “Now let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”
“Tell you what,” she begins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you go back on the ice and win the game, we can go to The Owner’s Box when you’re done to celebrate just like the other night. And if you behave, I’ll give you my number this time.”
“Want me to behave, huh?” I say teasingly with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Don’t fancy a bad boy?”
“Oh I actually have it bad for bad boys,” she smirks. “My favourite character in Harry Potter is Draco Malfoy.”
“Okay, I’ve got a counter offer,” I say as my laughter dies down. “If I get MVP tonight, which I’m pretty sure I will since you said it yourself that I’m on fire tonight, you give me your number straight away after the game and let me take you out to dinner. I’m thinking seven tomorrow night.”
Another roll of those gorgeous eyes that twinkle slightly at me. “Pushy, aren’t ya?”
“Only when I want something,” I tell her with a grin. “And I want you.”
“So do you want me or do you want to go out with me?” She asks slyly, tilting her head to the side.
“You gonna kick my balls if I say both?”
“I admire honesty,” she murmurs softly in that sexy, husky voice that seems to flow through my body and straight down to my dick.
“Hey boyfriend and girlfriend,” I hear Matt chirps from the doorway and my spine stiffens involuntarily. His shit-eating grin doesn’t lessen a bit even when I give him a glare. “Hate to steal your man, Doc, but the game is starting again soon and we kinda need our favourite asshole right here.”
“You two break a leg,” she chuckles. And then as an afterthought, she adds, “just so we’re clear, I don’t mean that literally.”
Manhattan Beach’s high-end strip of boutiques and restaurants are hugged by the beach on one side and some of California’s most expensive real estate on the other. It’s southern end blends seamlessly into smaller Hermosa Beach, which is similarly quiet but has a tight concentration of bars and restaurants near the town’s pier that attract bar-hoppers at night and sun-bleached dropouts during the day.
The Kings players’ houses are scattered evenly across the two towns. Some of us are clustered within a block or two of several teammates; others sprinkled little more than a mile or two away. All but one of the first-line players live in Manhattan Beach though, and we can easily walk or ride a beach cruiser to everyone else’s house.
YN lives in Silver Lake, and the drive to pick her up takes me about forty minutes. I know she must make a pretty good bank being an ER doctor, not to mention that she works at two places, but her house doesn’t scream that. It’s rather tiny, I’m betting not more than seven or eight hundred square feet max, and there’s not much of a porch but on the outer edge is a hanging basket of flowers.
There’s no doorbell so I rap my knuckles on the door. Flecks of peeling paint get knocked loose and fall to the concrete porch.
“Coming,” I hear her yell from inside and I can imagine her plopping in an earring, grabbing her handbag, and wondering if she turned the curling iron off. She sounds frazzled and rushed and I can’t wait to fucking see what she looks like when she opens the door.
And there she is.
She has a black dress on, and it’s not little but it’s spectacular. The neckline of the dress skims just below her collarbone so no skin or cleavage is exposed, but it doesn’t matter because the narrow waist and flared hips, all cocooned in black is sexy as shit. The hem of her dress comes down below her knees and the dress is so well fitted that I know there has to be a slit up the back so she can walk.
“Good grief you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I mutter as I let my eyes roam down and then back up again to find her smirking at me.
She’s got an off-white clutch bag tucked under an arm, and her head is leaning to the side so she can put her last earring in, exactly as I’d imagined.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, still smirking at me. I’d worn my best suit tonight in black with black shirt underneath and no tie. Glad she likes what she sees.
I step back so she can lock her door, and she turns to me as she tosses her keys in her clutch. I hold my arm out to her and ask, “ready?”
She nods and smiles as she curls her fingers in just below my biceps, then I escort her to my car.
I’m taking her to this new restaurant that both Alex and Matt recommended when I asked them last night for the finest restaurant in LA. It had been so long since the last time I took a woman out for a proper date, so I knew I needed to ask my mates and that they would have the answer. They both swore by this place called Apron, but then told me it took at least two weeks to get a reservation. Luckily though Alex had booked a table for him and Sloane tonight, and they gladly gave me the reservation. Sure I had to take a good deal of ribbing from my teammates and their women last night at the bar where we celebrated our win, but I knew it would be worth it.
The drive to the restaurant is short, only about ten minutes. And we lapse into the same easy conversation right away, just like we did the other night at The Owner’s Box. Today was my day off and I did absolutely nothing so I’ve got nothing interesting to tell, but she had plenty of exciting cases at the emergency room today, which included a toddler swallowing a penny.
“Holy shit, how did you get the coin out?” I ask her.
She laughs. “You don’t take it out. You’ve got to let the kid pass it naturally.”
“He can do that?”
“Well,” she begins. “I did take an X-ray first to make sure that it was small and could pass safely.”
“Okay, okay, okay… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to remove from a patient?” I ask her with childish curiosity.
“Honestly, I think I’ve removed everything on the surface of the earth,” she snickers. “Coke bottle, tapeworms, coins, candles, but the strangest has got to be a stuffed animal. It was a Curious George doll, and… let’s just say that he’s no longer curious.”
“You’re joking right?” I bark in laughter as I park my car. We’ve arrived and I swear that was the shortest ten minutes of my life. “I mean… who does that?!”
“I wish,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “You’d be surprised if you know how many weirdos out there.”
I’m still chuckling as I exit my car, then I walk over to the passenger side to get her. I hold my arm out to her, and her hand so very easily slides into the crook of my elbow.
“You don’t think I’m one of them, right?”
She gives me a playful shrug. “Well, I don’t know, you might be a weirdo... I mean, I don’t know you well enough yet.”
I give her a smart-ass smirk. “Let’s remedy that then.”
“How’s that one?” I ask her as I finish a mouthful of this chocolate thingy. It was a chocolate ball concoction the waiter had poured more hot chocolate over, which then melted the ball to reveal a raspberry chocolate torte inside. She had a bite, but it was too rich for her. I agree though, it was a lot of damn chocolate.
“You’ve got to try this,” she says, spearing the lemon meringue pie with her fork, top it with a little bit of pine nut ice cream and holding it over the table to me.
It’s a completely intimate move and one that I didn’t expect from her tonight. I mean, she was reluctant to go out with me in the beginning and needed some convincing, so I expected her to be reserved and cautious. But hell I’m not complaining.
I lean in and let her feed me the dessert. The flavours explode on my tongue and I think that’s the best we’ve had tonight.
I don’t normally indulge in dessert, but they all sound good so I told her we should order all the ones we like the sound of. Which was most of them except that cucumber mousse and pickle ice cream because those sound like disasters on a plate.
“Good, huh?” She asks with a smile.
“Really good,” I tell her. “I think I like that one best.”
“Finish it then,” she says as she pushes the plate towards me. “I can’t possibly take another bite. I’m stuffed to the brim.”
“Alright,” I say with a chuckle as I pull the plate closer to me. “So, when are you free again so I can take you out to another date?”
She chuckles. “We’re not even finished with this one.”
I roll my eyes at her, then I ask, “are you having a good time?”
Her smile turns dopey and I know she’s just as smitten with me as I am with her. “This is definitely the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
“If we were finished, considering how things have gone, would you go out with me again?”
“I would.”
“Good,” I say with an emphatic nod. “So, weekend or weekdays? When will it work best for you?”
I slow the speed on the treadmill, taking me down from a brisk run to a slow walk so I can cool down. Normally I like to run outside in the morning, but I woke up late this morning and we had a team skate scheduled at ten, so I figured I’d just do my workout afterwards at the arena.
Only a few of us actually have a gym membership outside. Most of us prefer to work out at the arena because not only is the equipment better, but we also have an abundance of teammates to work out with and that’s always nice.
I walk for about five minutes to cool down, then I turn the machine off and wipe my face with a towel. I grab my phone and water bottle and turn for the barbells, as today I’m working my chest and shoulders. Mitch and Marcel are already lifting, both defensemen who tend to focus on brute strength versus speed and stamina, so I’m not surprised they didn’t go for the treadmill. I also see Matt there, and I bet Alex will join us too after he’s done cooling down.
“Have a nice run, princess?” Marcel asks dryly as I set my stuff down near the bench press.
“I’m not the one who has to prove my manhood by how much weight I can lift,” I return with a sly grin.
“Yeah, well, your manhood is in a dry spell,” he says as he loads some weight onto the bar. Pre the hot doctor, both Marcel and I were the only single guys in the first line. He’s just as much as a player—on and off the ice—as I was, but now I gladly pass the title to him.
“Not true,” Matt quips with a grin. “He went on a date last night.”
“No shit,” Marcel turns to me in astonishment. “With who?”
Before I can even answer Alex throws a quick glance at us, flashes a shit-eating grin, and yells from the treadmill, “the new doctor.”
“But I saw you two got pretty cosy at The Owner’s Box last week,” Marcel says, as if he’s still confused as hell.
“Well yeah, she was cool, so I took her out again,” I say firmly.
“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” He blinks at me. Eyes all round and not comprehending. “You never look at the same woman twice.”
“So?” I ask, playing dumb.
“Ooh, I get it,” he says with a smirk. “Pussy that good, huh?”
“Hey,” I cut in with a warning. “I’m not there yet.”
They all suddenly stop whatever they’re doing and turn to me with raised eyebrows. Yes, Mitch included, which I’m actually quite surprised.
“Whoa, hang on,” Marcel says. “You haven’t tapped that yet?”
“You’re serious?” Matt looks at me in disbelief. “Not even last night?”
“Dude, I gave you that reservation last night to give you the opportunity,” Alex says as he walks towards us. “I was genuinely worried about your balls.”
They’re still looking at me confused, but Adam howls with laughter. “Don’t listen to these pigs. Rachel and I took it real slow at the beginning of our relationship too, and I got to tell you, the anticipation was half the fun.”
It’s true. I’m in no rush with YN because I know we’ll get there sooner or later. I can be patient when I want to be, and right now I honestly want to. I want to prove to her that when I said I wanted to get to know her, I meant her as a person and not just carnally.
I could tell that I confused her last night when I dropped her off at her doorstep after our date. I gave her nothing but a soft, brief kiss to her cheek, then told her to get inside, lock up and get some rest. Sure, she was confused for a few seconds, but the smile that I got after she realised that I really did want to take things slow was so much more than worth it.
“So you think this thing with the hot doctor is going to go the distance?” Matt asks me.
“I do,” I say confidently. I’m not dumb enough not to realise that she hasn’t fully let her guard down yet for whatever reason. Maybe she’d been badly hurt in the past, maybe it’s my past that causes her to be a little bit sceptical, I mean... let’s be honest, I was a player through and through. But that doesn’t scare me though, because I know I’m in it for the long haul. So yes, I can say it with confidence that this thing between us is going to go the distance.
“Well, if you fuck it up, I’ve got the first crack at her,” Marcel says with a salacious grin. I don’t think twice before I grab my wet towel and throw it at him. It hits him right in the face, and my teammates howl with laughter.
All this talk about her makes me want to see her again. I’ve secured a second date last night for next Wednesday since that’s when both of us will be free, but that’s still four days away and I can’t wait that long. So I pull up my phone and type out a quick text to her.
Hey, what are you doing today?
I grab my water bottle and take a slug. Before I put my water bottle down, I already got a response. I need to go and get a new bed frame. Really can’t stand this old thing anymore.
I can’t help but chuckle. She did tell me last night about her bedroom set which was apparently really old, but she couldn’t get rid of it since it’d been in the family for a few generations and her grandmother gave it to her when she bought her house.
Want some company? I quickly type.
She’s just as fast in her response. You want to go with me buy a bed frame?
Well, yeah. I’ve finished the team skate this morning and will be done with my workout soon. I’ve got nothing to do after and I want to see you. I reply.
Alright then. She texts me back within a minute. But I’m on-call though so I can be called to the hospital any time.
Doesn’t matter, I still want to see you. I text her back. When can I pick you up?
Give me half an hour.
Perfect.
I’ve bought three houses in my twenty-seven years of life; the one I currently live in, one in Toronto when I was still with the Leafs before I got traded to the Kings and one for my mum back in London. And yet not once have I ever gone on a furniture shopping.
Until today.
That was something I never in a million years would have dreamed to do, simply because I hated shopping with a burning passion. Hell, I didn’t even buy things for my own house because I paid the previous owner to leave everything behind. That kind of thing was honestly just something that I would have never taken the time for.
And yet, in shuffling through my memories, I really can’t remember having such a great time before. All I know is that I don’t want the day to end, and I also know that it has everything to do with the company.
I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and technically we’ve only been on one date even though we saw each other quite often at the arena. But there was nothing odd when my hand would find its way to her thigh, or when she’d drape her arm across my shoulders so her fingers could play with my hair as we cruised along from one furniture shop to another. I love that we’re at ease with each other as if we’d known each other forever, not to mention that she’s also one of the easiest women I’ve had the pleasure of talking to in a long time.
Sadly though, it had to end when she was called to the hospital. Luckily, it was just in time after she chose a particular bed frame that she liked. It’s a classic canopy bed in live-edge oakwood with a brushed brass iron base, and I felt like a pig because even as we were still at the shop, I was already thinking about which ties from my collection would work best.
They offered same-day delivery since they had it in the storage, and since she was needed at the hospital, I offered to wait for the delivery at her home for her. She agreed, so she gave me her key after I dropped her at the hospital.
And here I am. Sitting on her bedroom floor trying to build this bloody nightmare because apparently they didn’t offer assembly service. I’ve been at it for an hour and a half now. Okay, no, more like an hour and ten minutes because I spent about twenty minutes fixing the sink in her en suite. I noticed the faucet was leaking, and I needed to step away from that bloody bed for a little anyway.
Now I don’t have another excuse, so I’m back on hammering one of the bazillion nails into the wood. I’m so focused on the task that I didn’t realise YN is home until I hear her chuckling as she walks into her bedroom and say, “you know, that is the kind of pounding that’s supposed to happen after you’re in the bed.”
I can’t help it. I fucking throw my head back and bust out laughing. “Sod off.”
“You don’t have to do it, that looks complicated. I’ll just hire someone to put it together tomorrow,” she says with a sweet smile. “Just get up and go sit on the couch. I just need to go to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll join you.”
“Yeah, that won’t do, Doc,” I say firmly. “I’ll still finish this bloody thing even if it kills me.”
“Stubborn,” she quips affectionately with a roll of her eyes as she heads towards her en suite.
“Smart-ass,” I reply with my eyes pinned to one of the million pieces of her bed frame, also with affection.  
“Harry?” She calls out from her en suite.
“Yeah?” I answer, when I look up, she’s leaning against the doorframe and looking at me confused.
“Am I crazy or did you actually fix my sink?” She asks with an arched eyebrow. “Because I swear the faucet still leaks a little this morning.”
“Yeah, I did,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I needed to walk away from this for a minute and when I went to your en suite, I noticed it leaked. Not a big deal though, took me only about fifteen minutes.”
“Well, good to know that if you ever quit your day job, you have a career in plumbing,” she snickers. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do that, and you certainly don’t have to finish that.”
“It’s what any boyfriend would do, Doc,” I say with a nonchalant shrug.
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Yes I am,” I roll my eyes. “I took you on a date last night and I’m taking you out again on Wednesday. I’m not seeing anyone else, so that means we’re dating. And technically that makes me your boyfriend.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she sputters but I can see the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Besides… I might be seeing someone else.”
“You’re not,” I say with relative certainty.
“How did you change just like that is beyond me,” she murmurs, the appreciation in her voice evident.
I let out a chuckle. “Just get your butt in there and go chill on the couch after. I’m pretty sure I’ll be done in about half an hour, then we can order something for dinner.”
“Yes sir,” she says with a mock salute, which makes me snort.
An hour later, her bed is finally built and as I walk into her kitchen I see her putting the plates on the table. It smells phenomenal here, and I’m surprised when I look at the table because how the hell did she manage to cook all that in an hour?
I take advantage of her back facing me by putting my hands at her hips and pressing my chest onto her back. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck and it takes everything in me not to kiss her there. The combination of her perfume and the faint smell of antiseptic is sexy to me. So I can’t help but hum and mumble, “smells delicious.”
“The chicken?” She murmurs.
“Among other things,” I reply softly.
She chuckles. “Come on, let’s dig in while it’s still hot.”
I take a seat in front of her before I select a drumstick from a plate of fried, spicy goodness and put it on my plate. There’s something about the fact that YN made it that makes me believe it will be the best chicken I’ve ever had. Today will no doubt go down as one of the best days ever, which I seem to think a lot when I’m around this woman.
As she dishes me some salad, I honestly can’t wait anymore and take a bite of the chicken. Her eyes snap to me when I let out a groan.
“Good?” She asks with a grin.
I can’t help but let out another groan of approval as I take another bite. “Damn, Colonel, you never told me you make a mean fried chicken.”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” she shrugs smugly.
“Or a fine ass,” I tease. “If you want to quit your day job you can totally open up a fast food chain. Your fried chicken puts KFC to shame.”
She laughs as she cuts some cornbread and puts it on my plate. “Now try this, I make a mean cornbread too.”
“Mmm,” I say in pleasure as I take the first bite.
“Okay, you need to stop with the sexy moaning,” she grumbles with a tiny smirk before she turns back to her dinner. “You’re so bad. I think you’re trying to take advantage of me.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I laugh. “And besides, you’re just as bad.”
“True,” she replies with a sly smile. “I can be bad too.”
“But just how bad are we talking here?” I ask with a smirk.
“Not bad enough to sleep with you tonight,” she says before she takes a sip of water. After she swallows, she adds, “but totally bad enough I might get frisky with you.”
I give her a mock groan and look up to the ceiling. “A tease. I’ve saddled myself with a tease tonight.”
She laughs.
We talk about what she did at the hospital today as we eat, and her job in general, and it never fails to thrill me the things that she can do. She’s a jack of all trades when it comes to medicine, needing to be able to diagnose and stabilise, often in pressure-filled situations where time is of the essence. I can’t even imagine having the responsibility of someone’s life in my hands like that, and yet she seems to be able to leave it all behind. She talks openly and often with humour about her work, but she also admits that sometimes she can’t help but bear the burden of death too when her skills just don’t make a difference.
I admire her so fucking much. Never admired a woman before, but in fairness… I never looked too deeply at them.
I’m seeing YN through unfiltered eyes and I like everything that I’m seeing.
Something is squirming in my arms and it wakes me up.
I tighten my arm around it in response to the movement and pull it back slightly against my body.
Wait? What?
Sleep.
Couch.
We fell asleep on her couch while watching a film.
It all comes back in a rush. Our totally awesome conversation over equally awesome food she cooked that I couldn’t stop raving about all night. I had three pieces of chicken by the way. We talked more about our backgrounds, me growing up in Cheshire and her childhood in South Carolina. We had a few beers, and when she asked me if I wanted to stay a bit and watch a film or something, of course I said hell yes.
The fact that she asked made me smile, because it meant that she was having a good time too with me. So we ended up on her couch watching Jaws, and I liked that she didn’t even hesitate when I lay down on her couch, pressed my back against the cushions and patted the area in front of my hips. I’m pretty sure she can see the devilish gleam in my eyes when I said, “come on… let’s cuddle.”
“Wow… Harry Styles, big bad hockey player, shameless flirt, total panty dropper. Didn’t peg you as a cuddler.”
“I’m a big teddy bear, honey,” I said with a grin and open arms.
She fell asleep first, and I know I should’ve left but the slightest movement from me would definitely wake her up. I know she must be tired so I decided against it and closed my eyes instead.
“Morning,” she says in a husky, raspy, ‘I just woke up’ voice and it’s sexy as fuck.
“Morning,” I reply, my own voice is still rough with sleep. I wonder if she thinks that’s sexy too. “You slept good?”
“Mhmm,” she hums softly, but then immediately groans as she glances at the clock above the telly. “Ugh, I have to be in the hospital in about an hour.”
She then tries to extricate herself from my arms, but I pull her back in close and nuzzle her neck as I point out, “you work a lot.”
“Ha, tell me about it,” she says with a dry laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job. It’s just I wish I could sleep for three days straight sometimes.”
“Do you even have a day off in the week?” I ask curiously.
“I do,” she answers with a nod. “It was actually my day off yesterday, but I was filling in for a colleague.”
I loosen my hold and let her sit up in front of me. “Go get in the shower, I’ll make us both a quick breakfast.”
“You can cook?”
“Well, if I give you food poisoning you’re heading to the hospital anyway,” I chuckle.
In the kitchen, I grab some eggs and a pack of English muffins from her fridge. A quick breakfast sandwich sounds good, and portable just in case she needs to eat on her way to the hospital. I crack open a couple of eggs, scramble them with a fork and add salt and pepper while my skillet heats up. I put a bit of olive oil in the pan before I toss the English muffins into her toaster to crisp, then set coffee to brew in her Keurig. I’m moving around her kitchen as if I was born here.
By the time I pour the eggs into the pan, she walks out of her bedroom in her scrubs. I smile and nod at the Keurig as I say, “coffee’s ready.”
“And damn, you’re hot in those scrubs,” I add with a grin, giving the eggs a last scramble before pulling them off the heat.
“You’re joking right?” She says, wrinkling her nose as she grabs the milk from the fridge and turns my way, letting the door swing shut on its own.
“I’m serious, Doc,” I say with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from you. Preferably in your new canopy bed though so I can tie you up after for a payback.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s eight in the morning,” she laughs and I snort in return.
She then pours some milk in her coffee, pulls the cup to her mouth, and blows across the steaming surface. Her eyes meet mine over the edge of the cup as she takes a tentative sip. “Are we still on for Wednesday?”
“Of course,” I say with a confident smile.
“What have you got planned?”
“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” I tease her. “Just to warn you though, I may or may not gonna put my hands all over you.”
I don’t tell her that by putting my hands all over her, I mean on the ice to keep her from falling since I plan to take her ice-skating on the team’s practice rink. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, and besides, I’d be lying if I said I never thought of other ways too. The way she’s looking at me right now assures me that she does too, and well, that’s good.
We can compare notes on that later when we get there.
Blinking at me with a sleepy smile on her face, YN stands up from my couch. I walk up to her and she pushes me down into her seat, and then crawls onto my lap.
This is nice.
Our date on Wednesday was amazing, and as we walked inside, she turned to me and asked, “so this was your big plan to put your hands on me?”
I just laughed in response, and I did have to put my hands on her quite a lot in the end since she didn’t know how to ice-skate. Fuck if I’m complaining though.
Now we’re snuggled up on the couch at my house with full bellies. Last weekend she cooked me amazing food, so today, I wanted to impress her by cooking a roast dinner and introduced her to Yorkshire pudding. Sure, I was on the phone with my mum the entire time so she could give me directions, but I only almost burnt down my kitchen once so I’d call that a success.
I lean forward, which pushes her slightly to the edge of the couch, then I reach an arm over her and grab a packet of KitKat from the coffee table. I’m glad when I learnt that it is actually her favourite chocolate too, because KitKat is elite and it’s good to know we’re on the same page.
“Want another?” I ask her.
“No,” she groans. “I’m so full.”
I chuckle and awkwardly unwrap the chocolate. Awkward because I have to open it in front of her face since I have my arms around her, and once I got it opened, I hold the naked little chocolate bars in front of her mouth and tease, “want a bite?”
She shakes her head.
I wave it under her nose and I guess the smell of the chocolate changes her mind because then she says, “okay, a little bite.”
I break the bars and feed one of it to her, letting her take a bite and then chucks the rest in my mouth. We chew silently as we watch Marlin looking for Nemo, and I sigh in contentment when she tucks her face into my neck and drapes one arm across my chest.
It takes no more than ten minutes before I notice her breathing has slowed down and she’s fallen asleep. I rest my cheek on the top of her head and continue watching these fishies. I’m a little drowsy from all the food, but I resist the urge to fall under. For now, I just want to savour my existence at this moment because as Dory says to Marlin, “I look at you and I’m home”, I truly realise that’s how she makes me feel.
I’m sitting in my house, but for once, it doesn’t feel empty anymore. I just had a wonderful meal where we talked and joked and flirted, and now I have a gorgeous woman who I’m crazy about curled up on my lap.
There is absolutely no other place I’d rather be right now.
“Dude, you’re so fucking whipped,” Alex says as he punches me on the shoulder. I jerk slightly and reluctantly take my gaze off YN to look his way.
“What do you mean?” I ask as I take a swig of my beer and promptly look back at my girl. She’s standing just ten feet away, sipping on her own beer and talking animatedly with Sloane and Brynne. We’re at The Owner’s Box tonight having our first triple date, and I’m having a brilliant time. The only thing better would be if YN would quit chatting with the girls and get her sweet ass over here to sit next to me.
“Fucking hopeless,” Matt mutters and Alex snickers.
I blink and turn to look at them. “What? Why am I hopeless?”
“Because you can’t fucking take your eyes off of your girl for more than two seconds,” Alex jeers at me. Then he leans in towards me and murmurs with a mocking sneer, “pussy.”
“Bollocks that,” I say haughtily. “I can take my eyes off of her longer than that.”
“Good,” Matt says, handing me an empty beer bottle. “Go get us some more beer.”
“Assholes,” I say with good nature and head towards the bar. Stopping beside my girl, I kiss her on the temple. “You girls want anything else to drink?”
Sloane and Brynne shake their heads, smiling coyly at me as they watch my uncharacteristic display of affection. I’m immensely pleased when YN smiles at me and rests her hand on my chest. “I’m good, but thank you.”
“Be right back,” I tell the girls, and then I set out to prove Alex and Matt wrong.
I swivel my gaze back to Matt and Alex, and I give a sheepish grin when Matt mouths the word pussy at me. I flip him off and head towards the bar, intent on not looking back at my girl for at least the next few minutes it takes me to get the beers.
“Excuse me,” I hear and feel a tap on my shoulder. “Harry, can we get an autograph and a picture?”
As I turn around with a warm smile in my place, the word sure is out of my mouth before I even see who’s asking. I’m met by a vision of holy hotness as two women stand there with tight-as-hell t-shirts cut obscenely low and with plenty of silicone boobs pouring out.
Just a mere month ago, I would have whispered a prayer of thanks to the big man upstairs for sending these two my way, knowing well that I’d be banging the hell out of one of them before the night was finished. Instead, my stomach tightens and I glance past them to see YN still deep in conversation with Sloane and Brynne.
I bring my gaze back to the women… a brunette and a blonde, both looking at me with promise in their eyes.
“Do you mind taking your picture with us?” The blonde asks with a bat of her eyelashes.
I give her a quick smile and say, “sure, no problem.”
She steps up to me as she hands her phone to the brunette. I lift my arm to sling it companionably around her shoulders, but she uses that opportunity to press intimately into my side, bringing both arms around my waist and mashing her breasts against my ribs.
“Thanks so much,” the blonde says in a seductive voice. “Can we buy you a drink?”
“No, thanks,” I decline with a smile. “I’ve got some friends waiting for me.”
“An autograph, then?” She asks.
“Sure.”
The blonde digs in her handbag and pulls out a sharpie. She then hands it to me and says, “can you make mine out to Kourtney with a K?”
“You got it,” I say, eager to get this over with because it feels awkward to me to have this woman coming onto me with my girl standing just a few feet away.
“Just sign here,” she says and my jaw drops as she pulls the edge of her t-shirt down her chest, practically exposing her entire right breast to me.
“Uh, you got a piece of paper instead?” I ask her. “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that.”
“You bet your ass she won’t,” I hear my girl quips from behind me and I’m trying my best not to laugh. I like that she immediately snuggles into my side so those women now would have no doubt that I’m totally hers, “wanna go play some pool, baby? Loser buys the drinks.”
“You’re on,” I tell her, Kourtney with a K and her friend are long forgotten. “But just to warn you, I’m really good.”
“Honey, I was practically born on one of these tables with a beer in my hand,” she says smugly, “you’re going down.”
“Do you want to come in?” YN asks as she pulls out her keys from her handbag. We’ve just got back from The Owner’s Box and as usual, I walk her to the door.
My tone is low, soft, and barely audible when I say, “Doc, if I come inside tonight, I don’t think I can promise you to keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t want you to promise me anything,” she replies firmly. “Whatever happens, happens. Now, let’s not dawdle on my porch and get inside. Want some more beers?”
“Whoa, don’t hand me ammunition,” I joke and she laughs. “I’ll take some water though.”
“There’s some water bottles in the fridge,” she says, pointing to the tiny kitchen that sits at the rear of the house, past the living room. “I’ll be right back.”
I get two bottles of water out of the fridge and head back into her living room. I take a seat on the couch and pull out my phone, scrolling mindlessly as I wait for my girl.
When she reappears, she’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a white t-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail and her makeup has been washed off. Her in a t-shirt and tiny shorts is a hundred times sexier than her in literally anything else—yes, including her scrubs—and there’s no stopping my downstairs head from waking up.
“Come here.”
Her eyebrows rise, but I don’t miss the clear interest in her eyes. “Come there?”
I tap my thigh, “right here.”
Her cheeks flush and a little puff of breath blows out of her. With absolutely no hesitation, she crawls onto my lap. Our gazes are locked tight and her eyes darken with intensity. When her chest comes level with mine, and her knees are pressed into the cushion just inches from my crotch, she asks me softly, “you going to finally kiss me?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I tease her as my hands come around her lower back, pressing her onto me.
Fuck, she feels good against me. Just her soft curves and warmth and I’m already starting to get hard before I even lay my mouth on hers.
She looks at me with sizzling eyes as we stare at each other, knowing that once we take this step, our relationship is going to another level.
Leaving one hand on her lower back, I slide the other up and over the shoulder, letting my palm glide up her neck so my fingers can tangle in her hair. She shivers when my thumb strokes her jaw before I cup my hand around the back of her head.
Her hands reach out and circle behind my neck. Then she whispers as she licks her lower lip, “so this is it?”
“This is it,” I tell her, and because I absolutely cannot wait one second longer, I put pressure on the back of her head to lock our mouths together. The first touch of her lips against mine causes pleasure to punch straight through my groin, and the world just absolutely melts away.
There’s nothing else but her.
Lips so fucking soft, tongue tentative and sweet. Her hair silky to the touch and her skin warm as my hand snakes up just under the edge of her t-shirt.
She tilts her head, opens her mouth more and kisses me deeper. I groan and pull her tighter to me. My hand fists tighter into her hair, hampered by the hair tie somewhat but not giving a fuck. Her hips start to rotate slightly, rubbing herself along the top of my thigh. My dick gets achingly hard as she starts to make tiny sounds of need in the back of her throat.
My other hand slips down her back and palms her backside, then I give a tentative squeeze. I think she likes that, because her hips shift forward and she starts to grind her crotch on my leg. I press against her ass, encouraging her to keep moving against me. She does it again and shudders in my arms, so I know it’s hitting her in the right spot.
Pulling on her hair, I break the kiss just enough so I can growl at her, “get yourself off, darling. Right here. On my leg.”
Her eyes fly open and they’re full of fire and sexual need as they stare back at me. Her lips curve up in a wicked smile of acquiescence and I pull her back down to my mouth for a hard kiss.
She rotates her hips in circles, then alternates flexing back and forth. I clench my thigh muscle, wanting to give her as hard a surface as possible to stimulate herself. I slip my hand down the back of her shorts, finding bare skin. I squeeze and push her down on me, helping her to move faster on my leg.
She pants and moans softly as she works herself up. I have to force myself not to push my hand down further between her legs. I’m bound and determined not to go there yet, and besides, this is hot as fuck and completely satisfying to me.
She moves faster and faster, making tiny cries of yearning into my mouth as we kiss. Then she punches her pelvis down hard onto my thigh, going still for a moment before her entire body starts quaking in silent orgasm. I hear nothing but a soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips and slither over my tongue.
Her body goes limp in my arms. She lifts her head, our lips parting, and looks down at me with glazed eyes. I press my lips to her briefly just once more, before I pull my hand out of the back of her shorts and roll her body off me. As I stand up and hover over her for a minute, I see her cheeks flushed rosy and her nipples pebbled hard, even through her t-shirt.
Placing a hand on the couch cushion, I lower myself to her and brush my lips across her forehead. “Get a good night’s sleep.”
“Wait- you’re leaving?” She asks, confusion coating her expression.
“Yes,” is all I say.
“But-”
“I’ll take a cold shower when I get home, no worries,” I assure her with a smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I had a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells me, still looking like a wet noodle on the couch so I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.
“I did too,” I smile at her over my shoulder as I reach for her door.
It’s in this moment that I’m pretty sure I’m a goner for her.
I see the hottest, sexiest, most adorable doctor walking across the darkened parking lot towards me. Well, towards her car. Her head is tucked down and she looks tired. When she finally looks up and locks her eyes on me, the exhaustion melts away and I’m rewarded with a happy, welcoming smile from her.
“You really have to stop stalking me in parking lots,” she quips as she walks closer.
Then closer still until the tips of her shoes touch the tips of mine and she’s offering her mouth to me for a kiss. Obviously, I take it, because who wouldn’t? Her lips are perfect. She tastes like mint gum and smells faintly of antiseptic, and that right there is my favourite combo.
When she pulls back, she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and asks, “seriously, what are you doing here?”
“I wanna take you somewhere,” I tell her as I grab her hand and take her towards my car that’s parked the next row over.
“Where?”
“Just get in the car, Doc.”
“You’re being vague,” she says with an arched eyebrow. “Is this where you kidnap me, take my kidney and sell it on eBay?”
“This is where I’ll find a way to occupy that beautiful mouth of yours if you keep asking questions and ruin the surprise,” I tell her and she gives a tinkling laugh.
“Promises, promises,” she singsongs and I just roll my eyes.
It only takes about fifteen minutes from Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she works to the closest beach where I plan to take her for an impromptu picnic date night. We only had to stop by to get some pizza because I already have a cooler with a six-pack of beers loaded in the back of my car. It’s a little too late for sunset, but the purplish black of twilight is lush.
“The beach, huh,” she deadpans. “You brought me out here to seduce me?”
“You naughty girl,” I clutch a hand to my chest and make an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “That’s indecent exposure that is.”
She laughs as she opens the door of the car and hops out. I do the same, then I open the back door to pull out the pizza, blanket and the cooler with beers inside before letting her help by taking the blanket.
Somehow we have the beach to ourselves tonight, and she points out a nice spot for us to sit. I agree, so I let her spread out the blanket. After both of us have our butts firmly planted, side by side, facing the ocean, I take two beers out and hand one to her.
“Ooh, we’re going fancy tonight,” she says when she sees that I brought microbrews instead of cheap beer.
I chuckle as I open the pizza box and grab a slice of the cheesy goodness that will probably clog my artery, then we talk about our day as we eat. I tell her the funny things that happened at practice today, including a joke that Marcel told us in the locker room which most would probably find insulting, but I know my girl is used to locker room talk and would find it hilarious, and she tells me what she did in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy today that her lunch break lasted less than ten minutes.
“You never cease to amaze me, Doc,” I tell her honestly. “It’s so cool what you do for a living. Impressive as hell.”
“Thanks, Harry,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”
It’s completely dark by the time we finish our pizza, but the view is still lush since the moon is bright, causing the water to look like it’s covered in floating, crushed diamonds.
We’re silent as we sip our beers, and I love that we can sit in comfortable silence as well as talk for hours. It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other yet I just feel such a strong connection with her. I love that we’re so in tune with each other that sometimes we say the same things and steal lines from one another. We have a similar sense of humour and we can even exchange an inside joke with just a glance.
I loosen my hold of her when she pulls away from my side embrace. Her head swivels to me, and I can see the moon glittering in her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”
“What?” I look at her in confusion.
“I misjudged you, Harry,” she says with a tender smile. “When you asked me out, I outright told you that you’re a player without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
“And your assumption was right,” I tell her honestly with a light chuckle. “There is nothing to apologise for. It was common knowledge, I was a manwhore.”
She snorts. “Shut up, I’m serious.”
“Me too,” I squeeze her hand. “You didn’t misjudge me, Doc, you knew exactly the type of guy I used to be.”
She has a dreamy smile on her face when she says, “kiss me.”
“No, you come here and kiss me,” I say, and I’m pretty sure she can see my eyes sparkling with mischief.
She rolls her eyes and mutters “fine” under her breath as she plants her knees on the sides of my legs, but I don’t miss the light in her eyes which tells me that she likes the idea.
Closing her eyes, she dips her mouth to mine and now I’m wondering if the two years of jail time and a fine for indecent exposure is worth it if I were to take her right here right now.
We’re in New York for two away games in a row, tonight against the Rangers which we won 3-1, and tomorrow night against the Devils. I’m chuffed not only because we won and I played great, but I also had a great day today before the game with my girl. We didn’t do much since she wanted me to save my energy for the game tonight, but we did walk around our hotel and ended up napping on the couch in the room that I share with Marcel.
We all ride on the team bus that takes us from the hotel to the arena and back to the hotel after we finish the game. I wanted her to sit next to me, but for both trips, to the arena and back, she gave me a slight shake of her head and sat with the girls along with the rest of the staff in the front.
When I hop off the bus though, I see her waiting for me with a grin on her face. I kiss the fuck out of her, not caring about my teammates who whistle and yell, “get a room.”
“Which floor are you on again?” I ask her as we enter the lift. I want to walk her to her room just to spend a few minutes more with her.
Yeah, laugh all you want. I know I’m fucking whipped.
“Tenth,” she says, pulling her room key out of her handbag and hands it to me so I can scan it then tap the button on number ten.
“Wanna catch an early breakfast with me tomorrow?” I ask her as we approach her room that she shares with the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, Callie.
“Sure. What time?”
“We’re leaving for light skate practice at 9:30, so we should have plenty of time if we meet down there at 8:30.”
“Sounds good,” she nods as we reach her door.
There’s a handwritten note stuck in between the door and the jamb. She puts her key in the card slot, opens the door slightly, and snag the piece of paper. She opens it up and I look over her shoulder at the note as we read it silently together.
YN,
Marcel and Joslynn are hooking up and they’re in his room which means Harry has been kicked out. I’m going to sleep with Macy instead, so you and Harry can have this room. Unless you want Harry to go sleep with Macy?
No? Didn’t think so.
Have fun you two.
Callie
“This is Alex, Matt and Marcel’s doing,” I tell her with absolute certainty as she twists her neck to look at me. “I’ll just get an extra room for tonight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “You can sleep here. We’ve spent the night together before.”
“Yeah, but that was different. We fell asleep on the couch, it wasn’t intentional,” I point out. “I don’t trust myself sleeping in the same bed with you, Doc. I’m not going to be able to help myself.”
“Well, good,” she says, smiling mischievously. “Cause I’m done wait-”
That’s as far as she gets before I push her through the door, backing her into the room. My mouth hits her only moments before her legs hit the edge of the bed and we both go tumbling onto it.
This is when we realise there’s a huge box of condoms with 144 packs inside it in the middle of the bed. On the top, there’s another note and I recognise Matt’s handwriting on it.
You’re welcome by the way
“I freaking love your teammates,” she says with a laugh.
I guess I owe those fuckers some beers.
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tomtenadia · 3 years
Text
Scary feelings - Rowaelin month day 1
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Prompt: I just realised I am desperately in love with you
(I suck at titles)
----
Rowan Whitethorn was not a fan of crowds. Or people in general.
It was a Friday night and his flat was far too crowded for his own tastes, but he and his colleagues would take turns in organising get togethers and eventually his time came around. People might call him a loner and a grump but he just loved peace and quiet.
“Come on grampa, have fun.” Shouted Fenrys across the living room with a bottle of beer in his hands, offering one to hm as well. Rowan sighed heavily and joined the blonde man and plopped on the sofa ignoring the ruckus around him. He had already enough.
He was busy hating the evening when someone sat at his side: the smell of lemon and verbena familiar to his nostrils. He turned and saw Aelin sprawled on the couch and a beer in her hand. Most of the people were teachers working in the same high school. Rowan was the biology teacher and Aelin had recently been hired to be the new PE teacher after the previous one retired. She was friendly with everyone and he was positive that every single male teacher had a crush on her. She was gorgeous. Rowan had no issues admitting that. He had seen her once in shorts after one of her classes. Legs perfectly tanned and going on for days. Hair gold as the sun and the most amazing turquoise eyes he had ever seen, with a ring of gold in them. He had slammed against the wall and his students laughed at him that day. He had been dumbstruck, and in every other occasion they had to interact he had to work very hard to keep his cool. They were colleagues, they had to be professional.
“Good to see that you know how to chill, Whitethorn.” Her voice broke his reverie and when he turned he saw her taking a drink of her beer, her head tilted back and her neck exposed. Rowan stood quickly and moved away. What was happening to him? Why all of a sudden he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss the column of her neck, tracing his tongue along it and nip at the sweet spot at its base?
“You okay, man?” Asked Aedion who had noted him running away like a possessed person “did my cousin made lewd jokes again?”
Rowan leaned against the wall and shook his head “no, she is fine. I just needed to stand a bit. This is too much for me.”
Aedion patted his shoulder and left him alone and slowly his gaze returned to Aelin. She was talking to Fenrys and laughing at something that the young TA had said and something irrational rose in him. Damn, was he jealous?
She must have felt him staring because her head slowly turned and her gaze landed on him and the smile she gave him almost stopped his heart. He tried to smile back and failed and saw her raise an eyebrow at him as if in question at his reaction. Slowly he tried to regain control of his emotions, that was something he was good at, appear like an emotionless bastard. Wasn’t that the reason Lyria dumped him for another man? Because he was incapable of showing love and was just a block of ice who pretended to have feelings? He pushed back from the wall and walked to Lorcan. If Rowan had a reputation of being cold, no one beat Lorcan. He was the math teacher and probably one of the most hated ones at that.
“You look a mess.” Said the dark-haired man.
“You look like you are having fun instead. Very unusual for you.”
“I got my eyes on the small brunette near Galathynius, do you know her?”
“I think she is a friend of Aelin. She is called Elide if I remember the introductions.”
Lorcan took a sip of his beer and kept staring at the woman “well, she is definitely my type.” And with a powerful move Lorcan pushed away from the wall.
“Don’t fuck up.” Said Rowan to the man while he was walking away. Lorcan was not the most stable when it came to relationships.
*
He was alone on the balcony to enjoy fresh air and peace when a person joined him and leaned against the rail at his side.
Lemon verbena. He inhaled the scent and kept looking straight at Orynth at night.
“You seem off, Whitethorn.”
“I am okay,” he sipped the last of his beer and kept ignoring her, afraid of what he would do if he stared at her.
“Looks like the rumour are true.” She turned and her back was now against the rail, her arms at her chest. 
He allowed himself a peek and his chest tightened. She had a green dress with a puffy skirt and she was breathtaking. A deep urge to kiss rose in him.
“What rumours?” He said in a gruff voice.
“That you are a loner and a bit of a cranky old bastard.”
Rowan chuckled “I love my reputation. It keeps people away.”
“Who hurt you? Who made you like this?” She asked, moving a step closer to him.
Rowan stood motionless and stared in the depth of her blue eyes. How could she know? Only a handful of people knew how Lyria had crushed him. 
“She doesn’t know what she gave up.” Commented Aelin quietly.
Now confusion was clear on his face.
Aelin leaned forward and finished her beer “It’s just a mask. How do I know? Because I have one too. I am the happy easy going PE teacher who is lovable and chatty.” And her tone changed all of a sudden “my fiancee dumped me a week before our wedding. He found himself a newer version. It broke me and having a mask makes it easier to deal with people.” She confessed and Rowan could not look away from the pain in her face and tried to restrain himself from hugging her.
“Lyria left me for another man. Apparently I am incapable of love.”
Aelin gently took his hand “You just haven’t found the right person yet.” She squeezed it and then walked away leaving him alone once more. His heart raced madly in his chest
**
Going back to work after the party had been tragic. Rowan had spent the weekend thinking about Aelin and what she had told him. Thinking as well at the pesky feeling that had slowly started to creep up. Because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was falling for her. He had been since the beginning when she joined the team of professors. She was incredible, and funny and apparently very caring as well. The previous day he had seen her in the school yard consoling two young teenagers who were distressed and crying in her arms. He had followed the scene from the distance and that’s when it hit him. He was in love with her. Madly. He had tried to deny the feeling for a while and it worked until that damned party. Until that moment on the balcony. 
He walked back to his class and sat at his desk trying to ignore the pounding of his chest. Pushing away the realisation that his feeling for Aelin went deeper than he thought.
A deep sigh of relief left him when the next class walked in the room. 
Later he was on his way to the break room, a book in his hands and his messenger bag strapped on his shoulder when he crashed into someone.
“What the heck.” Said the outraged female voice.
Rowan looked down and saw Aelin crouched down collecting scattered papers. He kneeled quickly and helped her “I am sorry.”
“Do you always walk and read?”
“Most times,” he smiled “I am usually better at knowing what goes around me.” He passed her the last few papers and stood. Aelin was now in front of him “come, have lunch with me.”
Rowan was taken aback by the offer. He made a step for the teachers room, but Aelin grabbed his hand “come with me, I know a better place.”
Silently he followed her, realising that he would probably follow her no matter what. 
Hand in hand they walked around the ground until Aelin stopped in a quiet corner of the yard and sat under an oak tree. It was a nice spring day and the weather was turning warm.
Aelin sat down, back against the trunk and he stood for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Eventually he took a seat at her side and took out his lunch from the bag: a chicken salad that contained more vegetables than chicken.
Aelin looked at the tub and its contents in disgust.
“That’s why you are always grumpy… if my lunch looked that sad, I’d be grumpy to.” And she extracted a plastic tub containing an obscene portion of lasagna “my mum made it for me the other day. I went to hers for lunch and she cooked for an army.”
She stabbed the food with a fork and then turned it to him “try it.”
Rowan looked at her puzzled.
“Come on Whitethorn, I don’t have the plague. Give it a go.”
Rowan caved and took the bite she offered. The food was amazing and found himself smiling in satisfaction.
“Look, I made you smile and it made you all the way more handsome.”
His eyes popped open in surprise at her comment.
Aelin laughed and the sound of her happiness brought him joy. He’d do anything to see her smile. Her face would lit in up in the most stunning way. Gods, he was in far, far deeper than he thought.
“What?” She asked at her expression.
“You are the most stunning woman I ever met.” He said and then realised that he had uttered those words out loud. Shit. 
She smiled again and took another bite and Rowan decided it was now or never. He had to tell her and also brace for a crushing rejection. There was no way she was into him. She could have every man, why would she choose him?
He cleared his voice “I am in love with you,” he admitted, looking in her eyes “I think I have been for a while but it dawned on me at that party at my flat. You are stunning, intelligent, fierce, caring and funny and I think and I am totally and utterly in love with you.”
She placed her plastic container on the side and he thought he had just ruined everything.
“Go on,” was all she said “let it all out.”
“I promised myself never again. It was not worth it. But then you arrived and threw that to the winds.” He ran a hand through his hair “I was even jealous of you talking to Fenrys at the party. That’s why I kept to myself. I could finally put a label on my feelings and it scared me. I was never good at dealing with emotions and probably everyone is right, I am a cold heartless bastard.”
“Maybe,” she said brushing his hair “but in front of me I see a man who can be very capable of love if the right person comes along.”
Rowan was again speechless and his eyes closed on instinct at the feeling of her hand brushing his hair.
“Say it again.”
His eyes popped open in a question and Aelin nodded.
“I am desperately in love with you.”
She smiled again and his breath hitched.
“And what are we going to do about that professor Whitethorn?”
“Maybe I can take you out to dinner?”
Aelin leaned forward to kiss his cheek “I’d love that very much.”
And in that instant he realised that for her… for her he could try again.
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justice-is-a-weapon · 2 years
Text
In vino veritas [dazai x gn reader]
·•━━━━━━━⋆⋅☆⋅⋆━━━━━━━•·
Chapter 4/?
Previous / next
TW:alcohol, short mention of a murder but nothing detailed
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"Two whiskys." "Hey, I'm not paying for anything you ordered." "I'm trying to be nice for once and you're complaining. I'm paying for both of us today, Dazai." "If that's the case!"
Dazai grabbed the drink enthusiastically. I considered us drinking buddies now, even if he’d rarely drink. We would sometimes even talk about where and when to meet next. He was a nice fellow. Funny. But I really appreciated our philosophical conversations. We would talk about anything that came to mind. About morality. About dogs. Like a friend of mine he despised them. About drinks. Sometimes he'd even let some information about his colleagues slip. I figured they were quite the weird bunch.
Still there's something off about him. He's hiding something. Okay perhaps I am not the most honest person out there either. Never have been. Especially after what happened almost four months ago. I'll spare him that story. For my and his safety. I had a feeling he’d be able to handle it but I didn’t want him in on this if not necessary. I didn’t even know if I'd stay here anyway. Maybe I was getting too attached.
„You’ve been awfully quiet.“ „I’m just thinking.“ „What’s on your mind?“ Make the most of it. Live. Fuck it. „Would you like to join me for lunch sometime?“
This was one of the rare moments I saw Dazai being genuinely surprised about something. But he gradually began to nod. Then a smile.
„Where are we going?“ „My place. I’m not that bad at cooking.“ „That makes one of us.“ Slightly laughing, I asked him what he’d like. I decided I'd let him in. I could use a friend. I’d buy some crab and we’d eat together. I have to clean though. I know he wouldn’t care but I felt the need to do that. It felt right. I’ve kept everyone at arm's length until now. No touching. No getting too close.
I took a sip of my whiskey. He did as well. We continued talking. And drinking. I didn’t know how much time we spent that night. I couldn’t care less. In this city that didn't know my name I felt strangely safe. A new beginning. Nobody knows and maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to forget too. I dare say I was having fun.
„What type of drunk are you Dazai? I’m curious.“ „Oh I'm a mess.“ A sad smile from him. „Me too… Me too… I’m much more truthful as well.“ „So you mean to say you’ve been lying to me this whole time?“ Taking a sip once again I answered. „I am prone to not telling the whole truth. But I am not a liar.“ „That’s the definition of a lie to some you know?“ „Then by that definition you’d be one too.“ „I guess I am then.“
It was calm. Quiet. Not many people were left in the bar. Dazai had those mysterious brown eyes. What was going on in that pretty little head of his? I could never tell. Suddenly I heard someone coming in. „There you are!“ A boy with a white choppy haircut walked in. I took a mental note to never ever go to his hairdresser. Maybe I should ask to avoid that place.
„We’ve been searching for you everywhere. You’re not trying to drown yourself again I see. Thank god. You’ve been ignoring our calls so we figured- Oh who’s that?“ Now the boy was staring directly at me. Cat-like features. I assumed another one of his colleagues. I gave a short answer.
„We just drink together sometimes.“ Meanwhile Dazai was pulling out his phone. „Oh my battery died. That’s why. Did something important happen, Atsushi?“
The boy now known as Atsushi looked at me again as if he wasn’t quite sure if he was allowed to talk about the subject in my presence. I decided to make it easier for him. I excused myself and went to the bathroom. They talked about some murder case near the harbour. When I came back they had already left. Both mine and Dazai‘s empty glasses were still on the counter. But something else was laying right beside mine: a note.
It read:
Sorry for leaving so suddenly. Again, I am needed as a detective. I wish I could’ve stayed longer. I noticed we can’t talk to each other when we’re not sitting right next to each other. Call me over for dinner sometime. I’ll make sure to be hungry. ~Dazai
After that a phone number. I went home with a smile on my face that day, looking forward to it.
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[Hey it's my birthday! This is my gift to you guys. The reader and dazai seem to grow pretty close huh? It would be a shame if something happened... ]
As always I am open for requests and ideas as well as feedback from you guys.
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fruitcoops · 3 years
Note
Maybe something to do with another coops live stream they’re hilarious😂
These livestreams are basically my favorite fics to write and I’m so glad you all enjoy them! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!
“Hey, Instagram, we’re back!” Sirius smiled so wide his dimples appeared as Remus sat down and wrapped an arm around his waist. “It’s been a while since we did a livestream and we’ve been looking forward to it for a while, so let’s get started.”
“First question,” Remus said, leaning forward a bit. “Who kills the spiders? I do.”
Sirius wrinkled his nose. “We tried to do a catch and release policy, but they always end up coming back. Who is the better dancer? I don’t know, honey, who is the better dancer?”
Remus rolled his eyes and gave him a playful nudge. “Rub it in, why don’t you.”
“It’s me,” Sirius said with a smug grin. “Lionsfan65 wants to know if being married to your best friend is like having a 24/ 7 sleepover.”
“Oh, that’s a good one.” Remus bit his lip. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, some nights we stay up late to watch movies and other nights we stay up late doing taxes, but it’s awesome.”
“That’s so accurate,” Sirius laughed. “We should build a taxes pillow fort sometime.”
“We totally should. That would make it so much more bearable.”
“We could have popcorn!”
“Hell yeah!” They high-fived, and Remus turned back to the phone. “Do waiters ever ask if we’re splitting the check?”
Sirius groaned. “All the time. We were on our honeymoon and literally holding hands over the table, and the waitress asked if we were on a ‘guys’ trip’.”
“She also said that our wives must be glad to have the weekend to themselves,” Remus added with a grimace. “It was one of those awkward ‘thanks, but that’s my husband’ moments.”
Sirius scrolled through the incoming questions, then burst out laughing. “Oh, fuck, I knew I missed doing these for a reason.”
“What? Which one is it?”
He took another moment to catch his breath before tapping the screen. “To Sirius: no offense, but your husband is really hot. Why would I take offense to that, fernbaby? It’s true!”
“Who sent that in? Thank you, fernbaby, that’s so nice!” Remus blushed a bit, but his smile turned to confusion as he read the next one. “Who wears the pants?”
“Right now, both of us. On a really good day, neither of us,” Sirius said easily. “Honey, someone thinks I’m an ‘alpha’.”
Remus tilted his head. “A what?”
“An ‘alpha’, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”
“Seeing as we’re not werewolves, neither of us are an ‘alpha’.” Remus did air quotes around the word and raised an eyebrow. “Plus, the guy that originally coined those terms for wolf packs later came forward and said his experiment was unreliable and that he had proved wolves work in hierarchies based on age.”
“That’s science, bitches,” Sirius said with a grin. “Aw, this one is sweet! What are our nicknames for each other?”
“I call you ‘baby’ all the time, but ‘honey’ is a close second.”
“Yeah, there aren’t a lot of nicknames for my name. Um, I call you ‘sweetheart’, ‘mon loup’, ‘mon amour’, ‘Re’…now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I called you by your full name.”
“I hope not,” Remus laughed. “You only do that when I’m in trouble.”
“True. Oh, this one is for you.”
Remus scooted closer to him. “To Remus: what’s the hardest part about moving from PT to player? Ugh, everything. If I had to choose one thing, it would be having to step back from helping the guys when they get hurt in a game. Hestia still has to remind me to let her do her job sometimes, even though she’s the most amazing PT in the world and I have total trust in her. It’s pretty tough seeing your friends in pain and not being allowed to help them anymore.”
There was a beat of quiet. “Well, that got morbid fast,” Sirius said drily, making Remus snort. “This is promising: pick a Disney princess you each identify with.”
“Should we switch, and each say each other’s?”
Sirius gave him a look. “Do you even know mine?”
“Of course I know yours!” Remus said indignantly. “It’s Rapunzel!”
“What?”
“It totally is! You have a crush on Flynn Rider and her chameleon is named Pascal!”
Sirius hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay, fair. I was going to say Elsa. Yours is easy, though.”
“Are you sure?”
“If it’s not Belle, you’re lying to yourself.”
“It is, don’t worry,” Remus laughed. “Everyone in the comment section guessed that. Great job, guys! This is an easy one: what was our last fight about?”
“Which Disney princess I relate to more. Do we have the same taste in men?” Sirius stifled a laugh. “I think this one answers itself.”
Remus gestured vaguely. “Seeing as we look completely different, no. I’m into tall, athletic, heart of gold types.”
Sirius put his best poker face on. “Librarians are really my thing.”
“Okay, you know what—”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he laughed, tugging Remus closer to kiss his cheek despite the mock-scowl on his face. The phone screen lit up with multicolored hearts and they turned back to it after a chaste kiss on the lips. “Your turn.”
“Librarian,” Remus scoffed around a smile. “Why did we keep our wedding a secret? Well, we didn’t. Everyone knew it was happening.”
“We didn’t tell the media the details for a few reasons. Number one, we wanted a small ceremony with just friends and family. Number two, both of us are tired of people’s noses in our business. Number three, it was really, really funny watching them speculate.” He counted down on his fingers, looking rather self-satisfied. “And it worked. It was perfect.”
“Plus, we planned it in, like, six weeks. There weren’t a lot of concrete details to actually give people. Someone asked one for you, baby.”
“To me…do I get along with Re’s parents? Oh, I adore them. They’re amazing people and I love seeing them when they visit.”
A slow grin spread over Remus’ face. “Oh, I love this next question. Loops, we all know you’re weak for the French accent—you’re not wrong—but Cap, do you like his accent, too?”
Sirius lit up. “I do! It’s so cute! It comes out when he’s tired or excited and I just—” He smiled and drummed his hands on his knees, going a bit pink. “I dunno. It’s cute. Alright, let’s move on before I embarrass myself even more. Who’s the better cook or baker?”
“You are adorable,” Remus said, his cheeks vibrant red. “To answer the question, I’m the better cook, but I can’t bake for shit. Sirius makes brownies like you’ve never tasted before, though.”
“I’m practicing.”
“What’s the best prank I’ve ever pulled on Sirius?” Remus laughed under his breath. “Sirius and Pots teamed up to fuck with my gear one practice, so I spent the next day and a half playing the circus theme song whenever they walked into a room together.”
“Ah, fuck, I forgot about that,” Sirius muttered. “And then you got Finn to sing it, too.”
“I didn’t do anything, he started that himself.”
“He’s so annoying,” Sirius said fondly. “Alright, last question. Remus, was it hard to adjust to having more disposable income?”
Remus hummed in thought for a moment, resting his chin on his hand. “Definitely. I am so, so grateful to have this opportunity, but it’s always the little things that remind me. Like, plane tickets to go see my family in Wisconsin don’t have to be a big expense anymore. It’s been a really interesting adjustment for sure. Is that all we have time for?”
“I think so.” They waved to the camera one last time. “Thanks for joining us, and thanks for the great questions! Go Lions!”
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Text
Yandere BNHA Boys pt 2
Okay, this is a continuation of the first yandere ones I did because I wrote that in basically a night and was too tired to do more, I'm probably gonna post some after for the pro heroes and villains if I have time, I might finish those on the weekend then post it.
This is just a bunch of headcanons I have about the boys in BNHA and what they’d be like as yanderes. Only the really fluffy or good things about them listed here. Neither of these works are a good depictions of a real yandere and make sure to be careful to identify yandere traits in real people around you. It’s a very dangerous world and stay safe!
sorry if you were waiting for me to come out with these and I literally took forever lol, link to the first one is here. It's basically just me comforting myself with the sweet things that I think they would do as yanderes.
Warnings: Brainwashing, blood, gore, death, trans headcanons, body dysmorphia, nonbinary they/he Sero, they/them pronouns + nonbinary headcanons for Tokoyami, he/they nonbinary headcanons with Shinsou, a little NSFW because if I don't specify then they are aged up (around 20-25 is where I imagine the timeline that they actually captured you and have a hero carrier going for them already), manipulation, regular yandere things, kinda just turns into dumbass horknee headcanons at some point after Shinsou (sorry lmfao), objectification
Sero Hanata
so basically the first time they saw you they immediately wanted to come up to you
they love to give you back hugs because once you stop trying to fight them he's gonna be so honored you finally trust him
Big time slut [non-derogetory] for you
Likes to have an apartment that's high up, probably a secured penthouse with lots of windows
If you're afraid of heights they will get a ground bed for you two, they would also vibe with a low hanging hammock if you allow it
they really really like just putting you on a custom made leash, not inherently in a sexual way just in general likes to have it look like that with their tape on you at all times
they really really like it when you come to them for hugs and comfort
If you're a trans reader, if you want a binder he will get you one as soon as you ask, cried when you told him about it.
they cried way more than you though...
Was very accepting as an nb person as well
they custom made you a tape binder of his
Kinda as a joke but high key felt like they were gonna combust at the thought of you wearing that for them
Takes you to pride but you cannot speak
only takes you to pride after they are 1000% sure that you're not gonna speak to anyone but them
Takes you to it as a part of their float because they'd been invited onto the Hero Float
You are in a costume that's exactly like his, helmet and everything, you aren't allowed to be looked at
After that though, it's gonna be your choice to go or not to go
they trust you a little more after you run away from some assholes though and after that sometimes lets you take your helmet off during pride, you have to give them a lot of kisses though
When/if you ever consider any type of surgery he is 110% on board
they demand that you have to have it performed by someone who has done this a million times before, trusts no one else
If there's a way for you to go through it without the surgery they're excited but he's more excited if there is surgery because they love the idea of you being so cuddly and clinging to them for their comfort
Tokoyami Fumikage
haha they're in love with you
like, intensely in love with you the moment they first meet you
Dark shadow thinks you're adorable but says nothing more about their obsession with you
when you met them before UA they absolutely cannot handle being around you in a 10-foot radius
Eventually, though they do try and become a friend of yours
After that, it's a hop on the manipulation train, my dude
they basically make you see them as your savior from a mean uncaring world
they love talking to you about things that make you happy and loving you in little ways
hugs, hand holding, a lot of time it's just a little peck (haha) on the cheek
they love living with you though, like really love it
they like baking and making dinner for you
but especially baking
like really, baking
the manipulation they use makes it seem like everything is okay when you only talk to them so that's what you do and to you, it seems so much better than anything you could do
they haven't come out to you by the time you come out to them so your trans journey really helps them figure things like that out as well
The first time you explain that gender is a made-up construct they're like "yeah......isn't that how everyone feels? Like, not a gender????" we love this for them
you both kind of heal each other through this process
they like seeing you when you're most comfortable so they get you as many binders as you need
also gets you a custom binder like Sero but with feather designs, not like stupid printable patterns but something that is soft and the softness isn't feathers it's regular fluffy cloth
idk I'm not a designer that's why I gave up and became a writer lmao
they also get you a compression corset because they're emo
if there is surgery it takes a lot of time to convince them
they don't ever want you to regret anything they helped you with so it takes a lot of long-winded conversations about it
there was a lot of nervousness on their part because (this is just my headcanon) they were almost convinced to get surgery to construct their face to look human-like
they had a lot of their family tell them that, because of the way they looked, they had less of a chance to become a hero, they were immensely traumatized by this and thus wants to make absolutely sure you were okay with this
but when they finally find themself comforted by you about it it happens quickly and in the safest way you could possibly imagine
Shinso Hitoshi
Shinsou didn't want to approach you at all, he was so scared you'd run away or tell him he's a villain
they always thought that they weren't good enough for you
he loved you but you needed to say hi first
and you did
so he whisked you away
they like to just brainwash you into tasting certain types of food when you're craving them instead of just getting you food
he likes to talk to you in a voice like he would talk to a kitten, not like husky or anything sexy, but something cute and adorable
especially when you're brainwashed and can't say anything to him
He likes to give you lots of soft stuff like I'm talking pillows upon pillows and squishmallows
once he gets his own house they get it in a place that's more comforting in the dark than in the light
they really like the dark and outdoorsy vibe anyway so if they choose a place somewhere in the forest to keep you what's the added bonus if no one can hear you scream?
a little bit of spice; he has this whole a/b/o fantasy (idk it's his vibes that he'd read that fanfic and stuff lmao) and kinda treats you like you were an omega
sometimes if you guys do have sex they'll brainwash you to act like an omega or once he's more experienced with bodily manipulation involving their quirk they'll make you do all of the......omega things
when you come out to them, if you're trans, they're definitely gonna not care
like if you need comfort and stuff about it they will not make a big deal about it
he legit is like "okay .....can I still fuck you or?????"
HE JUST GIVES OFF REALLY HORKNEE VIBES OKAY?????
definitely brainwashes you into not feeling dysphoric anymore though
like loves it when you come up all sad to him and uncomfy just to ask them to brainwash you
he melts over you cuddling them after those times though
if you want surgery they're gonna make sure that it's between him and the doctors that y'all are there
like no one knows you're there, completely off radius, in and out like nothing (he's basically a cryptid in the woods by the time you guys have the surgery, so they wanna make sure no one questions it)
Monoma Neito
bold of you to assume that man can express literally anything when he wants to just sit you on his lap and look at your pretty face
love at first sight taken literally but not in a shallow way
he loves just having you around him
kinda treats you as an accessory at times, talks like you're a purse or something and people don't really comment but it's really freaking them out sometimes when you don't speak up on it
likes to say he's the only one to understand you cause he's afraid you'd leave him
a hardcore fan of collars though
definitely has lots of jewelry that represents him even though you don't go out he still loves the idea of it
big time cook
loves providing for you, never lets you do a damn thing other than watching pre-approved cartoons and hobbies
absolute fucking disaster about hugging you
always has to be touching you
he thinks you're so fucking gorgeous and body worships you even out of the bedroom
if you're trans he will definitely be weird about it at first
he's just diet transphobic
he's not denying it but sometimes he's like "Are you sure???" and stuff
he clears this up with the help of you being pissed enough to not eat or talk to him until he apologizes
he then educates himself on it and comes to the conclusion that he was in fact being an asshole
talks to you about binders and stuff like that
doesn't really believe in surgery, he would never allow you to do that just because it would be too painful for him to see you go through
he instead literally searches the whole fucking globe for a person with a body-altering quirk to make sure you don't get hurt
he seeks out homophobes, transphobes, and other dumbasses on the regular just to kill them like literally it just started out for your approval but now it's just for fun
Anyway, the villain one (if I do it) will probably become just horknee brain rot cause I am a slut. Request some stuff and I'll try to put up some works if y'all want ig.
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avidreider · 3 years
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okay, i’ll admit it. (Spencer Reid x Reader)
Summary: Reader confronts her boyfriend Spencer about her insecurities and his answer wasn’t what she was expecting.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader 
This is my first go at fanfic, so let me know what you think if you choose to read!
CW: Just relationship insecurities, mild angst (with a happy ending), mentions of the deceased Maeve.
***not my gif***
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You were ecstatic that you reached this milestone with your boyfriend, Spencer. Together for two whole years, that is something that no one was expecting from the genius who was usually unlucky when it came to romance. You were hopelessly in love with Spencer. I mean, why wouldn’t you be? He was everything that you ever dreamed of. Not that you guys didn’t argue; you were human, of course you did. It was usually about something minor and silly; you using up all of the hot water so that he had to take a cold shower, or him not doing the dishes or helping you clean your shared apartment until you nagged him into it, normal things that long-term couples argue about. Those arguments were ones that were resolved quickly. But for the past week (the week after your anniversary), you had been having deeper arguments that seriously needed resolved. It started Saturday night when he got home from a tough case. A man lost his girlfriend to a female suicidal unsub, which brought back all of his buried feelings about Maeve. You knew what happened with Maeve since Spencer was one of your closest friends before you began dating, but you never understood the severity of how it affected him. You personally didn’t see why it would affect him the way it did. He saw awful things everyday and even though he established a relationship with her, he had only met her once, and all they did was talk on the phone, write letters, and share information on their lives. He thought that he had lost Emily, who he cared for deeply and worked with every day, so it didn’t make much sense that Maeve’s death affected him more than Emily’s ‘death’ did. However, his team had notified you how badly he was hurt, so you made a conscious effort to never talk about Maeve with Spencer. Well, until Saturday.
“I don’t know why you nag me so much when I get home from a tough case, Y/N! I am only human, even though people joke that I must be a robot! I have feelings, and you would think that you of all people would try to tend to them!” Spencer had shouted at you after all you did was approach him several times to ask him to stop reading his book so that you two could cuddle on the couch.
“Spencer, you see terrible things all the time, and I try not to nag you when you get home, ever! I didn’t realize that seeking your attention and affection was such a bother to you!” you retorted.
“I don’t see how you can want my affection when I am so obviously thinking about a woman that I’ve loved and lost before our relationship began.” Spencer said, while not being able to look you in your eyes.
“Well apparently it isn’t that obvious, because I hadn’t known that you were thinking of her.” you said.
“Y/N...,” he began, “I’m reading the book that I told you she gifted to me. I told you about the case when I called you last night, which almost directly mirrors the events that led me to lose Maeve. How could it not be obvious that I’m thinking of her?” he asked.
“I am sorry that you are hurting right now. But the fact of the matter is, I am your girlfriend. Me. And I’m right here, and I’m alive.” you said weakly.
“That was incredibly insensitive, Y/N.”
“HOW?! How was that insensitive, Spencer?! It’s the truth! You met Maeve once! You only talked on the phone or in letters! You didn’t even know her. You knew whatever she told you, but that’s the extent of it. You don’t know what type of person she was. Her ex ‘stalked her,’ so she claimed, but you don’t know if that is entirely true. She may have been crazy or a bad person just manipulating you! You didn’t live with her! You just don’t know! But I am right here, and you know me better than I know myself, or so I thought, and I love you! I’ve bought you books before, too, but you don’t obsess over them the way you obsess over that one! It doesn’t make sense to me, Spencer, am I not good enough for you?” you said as tears fell from your eyes.
“I can’t believe you,” Spencer muttered, totally unmoved by your tears. “I love Maeve more than anything in the world, Y/N. And you weren’t there, you aren’t in my head and you don’t know how I feel. You don’t have the right to question the depth of those feelings. And if you’re done belittling my dead girlfriend, I’m going to bed,” and with that, he went to the bedroom.
You couldn’t help but notice he didn’t assure you that you were good enough. You also noticed that he called Maeve his ‘girlfriend’ rather than his ‘ex.’ You chose to sleep on the couch that night.
The next morning, Spencer refused to be the one to break the silence. He truly thought that you were in the wrong for being so harsh when discussing Maeve, but he didn’t recognize the insecurity and pain that was reflected in your statement. So you spent the remainder of the weekend avoiding each other, and when he left for work on Monday, you decided to give him the cold shoulder just as he was doing to you. You didn’t answer his calls or texts, even though they were few and far between compared to how he normally does. 
They didn’t have a case all week, so they used the opportunity to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated at the BAU, but Spencer was home well before dinner each night. On Wednesday night, he looked up from his book to you doing the dishes after a silent dinner, and asked “Are you just never going to talk to me again?” 
Your temper flared and you spit back, “Why would I? You told me that you love Maeve, but yet you haven’t told me that you love me since before you left for the last case. You act like I’m not good enough for you anymore. You said she was your ‘girlfriend,’ when I thought that I had that title. You’re over there reading that stupid book while I’m doing all the damn chores. So what exactly do you want me to say to you?” 
“I meant to say that I loved Maeve, Y/N. And she wasn’t even my girlfriend. That was just the best word I could think of to describe our relationship. And the book is not stupid.” 
“No, Spencer, the best way to describe your relationship would have been EX-girlfriend.” 
“The book isn’t stupid. Maybe you just don’t understand it.” 
“You’re right Spencer. I’m just too stupid to understand it, right?” 
“Y/N I didn’t mean---” 
“Oh don’t try to back track now, Spencer. You said what you felt, right? I’m just your stupid replacement apparently. I’m sorry that I can’t be more like Maeve for you,” and with that, you stormed out of the apartment. You weren’t sure where to go, so you wandered aimlessly, expecting Spencer to follow you. He didn’t. You ended up walking to Emily’s, and told her all about your fight with Spencer. 
“Y/N,” Emily said, “I think that you need to tell him how much it upsets you that he’s still hung up over Maeve. I know you are hurting, but he can’t read your mind.” You thought about her words as she drove you home. When you arrived, Spencer was already in bed. You slept on the couch yet again. 
On Thursday evening, you cooked dinner as usual, and did the dishes, as usual. You were feeling exhausted, so you got comfortable on the couch after the nightly chores were done. Spencer looked up from his desk and said, “Why don’t you sleep in the bedroom?” 
“Are you planning on sleeping out here, then?” you asked. 
“Y/N, we can still sleep in the same bed.” 
“Not if the whole time you’re wishing it was Maeve lying next to you rather than me.” 
Spencer actually closed the book as he looked up to you and spoke, “I have never wished it weren’t you. I just wish you weren’t so dramatic. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Y/N. I’m allowed to have thoughts about others.” 
“Okay, Spencer. You’re right. My feelings don’t matter,” you say through tears as you head toward the bedroom. “Oh, and by the way, Spence, my world DOES revolve around you. And I would never want you to feel this way.”
Spencer joins you in the bedroom after he thinks you’re asleep but he’s on the phone with someone. You try not to be obvious as you listen to the conversation. 
“I know, I know, I just wish she were a little more understanding. I do love her very much, and want a future with her, but it just seems like she’s angry that I had feelings for another woman before her... I hate not talking to her though. She’s my favorite part of the day... I hope she stops being mad at me soon... Okay, see you tomorrow, bye,” he hangs up as he crawls into bed. You feel somewhat guilty because you aren’t necessarily mad at him... You’re just upset. 
On Friday morning, you feel Spencer kiss you goodbye even though it’s obvious he still thinks you’re asleep. That melts your heart, so you decided that you needed to try to resolve things. You had the day off from the hospital, so you headed into the bullpen of the BAU, but as you do, you notice something that throws you off. Spencer was laughing and playfully ‘fighting’ with JJ. You knew that he had had a crush on her, but you thought it was in the past tense. But after what was before your eyes and the events that unfolded over the weekend, you weren’t so sure. He caught your eye and stopped his actions immediately. That only increased your suspicions. You approached him with the lunch you had brought for him and set it on his desk in front of him.
“Hi,” you said shyly.
“Hi. What’s this?” he questioned.
“I thought that I would bring you some lunch today. It’s from that new Thai restaurant. I hope you like it,” and with that, you decided it was best to just head back home.
He opened the bag and discovered that you had written him a letter.
Dear Spencer,
I am sorry about what I said over the past few days. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or disrespect Maeve in any way. It’s just that I have been feeling really insecure lately, and I feel like you don’t love me the way that I love you. I know that your job is emotionally and physically exhausting, and I want to support you in any way that I can. But I have emotional needs too. You have barely wanted to even touch me this week, or even talk to me. And I’ve noticed that any time you read the book she gave to you, you seem to resent me or forget that I even exist. I understand that I am not as smart as you or that I’m not as pretty as what you deserve, but I do love you and would do anything to make you happy. I hope that you feel the same.
Guilt washed through Spencer as your words and actions began to make a lot of sense. He pulled out his phone to call you, but you didn’t answer. So he sent a text that read, “Hey sweetheart. I just read your letter. I am so sorry that you are feeling that way. Please come back so that we can have lunch together.”
Your response was simply, “I already ate,” even though that was a lie.
Spencer texted back, “Okay, well let’s go grab coffee or ice cream, or both if you want. :)”
“That’s okay Spencer, take JJ instead.”
He called again, and you quickly pushed decline. A frustrated sigh left his lips, and he pushed ‘call’ one more time.
This time, you answered, “What, Spencer?”
“Are you seriously upset that I was talking to JJ?”
“Not talking Spencer, flirting. You were flirting with JJ, and you know it. You think that I forgot that you were in love with her too? I am sorry that I am not enough for you, but maybe you should just dump me instead, okay?” and with that, you hung up.
He was angry with himself for not realizing why that felt that way. The way you had been acting all week was obviously because you felt insecure. You weren’t trying to hurt him, he realized, you were just hurt yourself. When Spencer came home, he saw you running around the house cleaning and putting away laundry. “Baby, can we talk?”
“Sure,” you replied while you were hanging up his work clothes.
“Do you want me to help with that?” he asked, as he pointed at the laundry basket. 
“I mean, they are YOUR clothes. You never seem to help me around the house though until I ‘nag’ you first, so you don’t have to help if it will be that big of an inconvenience for you.”
“Y/N, I am so sorry that I am hurting you. I guess I didn’t even realize that I was. I am so incredibly sorry.”
“Do you love me? Or do you love Maeve? Or JJ? I honestly can’t handle being a second, or I guess, third, option anymore.”
“There are different levels of love, baby. I used to have feelings for JJ, but I love her as if she were my sister. I did have a crush on her, but I also had a crush on you before I had you. And that’s a crush that never faded like the one with JJ did. And okay, I’ll admit it. I did love Maeve. I saw a future with her that I didn’t dream of before her. I felt like there were so many opportunities that were lost once she was gone. But you are my future now. Sometimes I do wish I could’ve saved her, not because I don’t love you, but because I failed to protect her. It was hard to adjust to life without her, but I did. But on the way home I was thinking about you. If I had lost you the way I lost her, there’s no way I could ever recover. If you had even left me because I’ve been neglecting your needs, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I also love my mom, of course, and I love my team. But, Y/N, I am so unconditionally and irreversibly in love with you. I am so sorry that you’ve been feeling insecure. But honey, you are so much more than enough for me; No woman in this world can hold a candle to you. You are brilliant, beautiful, funny, and so, so, sexy,” he adds as he plants kisses on your neck.
“I love you, Spence,” you say in between panting breaths.
“I love you more than anything, Y/N. And please, tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it. I don’t want you to feel like this anymore. You want more help around the house? I’ll fold the laundry, I’ll do the dishes, I’ll vacuum. I will never again say no to cuddling after a case. I wanna give you the world, baby.”
“You’ll do ANYTHING?” you ask. Spencer nodded.
“Can we go get that ice cream now?” you asked with a smile.
Spencer gave you a chaste kiss and replied, “I’ll get the keys.”
This was my first time writing fanfic so I’m sorry if it was bad but I got the idea and had to write it down. If you read it let me know what you think!
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liibrii · 3 years
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fem!Miya!reader x Suna Rintarou || mostly platonic || part of the Third Miya series
Synopsis: A glimpse into your friendship with Suna during your 1st year at Inarizaki High school.
Warnings: barely proofread, general stupidity, there's a serial killer joke, reader is a lil shit
wc: 1.6k
a/n: naming chapters is hard 😭 as always feedback is greatly appreciated and if you wanna be tagged in future chapters let me know!
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Friendship with Suna is one of those where you can't quite remember how or when it started. One week he was just that lanky guy sitting at a desk to the right of you, the next week you walked home together and you told him your brothers' embarrassing childhood stories in exchange for chemistry homework. In a way it's an echo of all your childhood friendships forged on the beach with other kids you only knew for a week but during that week you'd take over the world for them if they asked. But the one week friendship with Suna became two weeks, three weeks, and after the fourth you stopped counting.
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Suna Rintarou is a funny guy. Not funny as in telling jokes or spouting quips and smirks. He's funny in a way that even now you can't really tell who he is. He's quiet. But not shy in the slightest. He moved over from Aichi and you cringe at the memory of saying: “Oh so that's why ya talk funny. I thought yer just pretentious,“ when he told you. Your ears catch on fire by just thinking about it. So embarrassing. But he must have pretty low standards for his friends because at the time he didn't really seem bothered by your slip of the tongue. The next day he offered you a chuupet and that was enough to buy your undying loyalty.
Suna's a funny guy. You don't know how he became your friend, you don't know what he sees in you that makes him put up with you. But you're glad to have an inside man on the volleyball team.
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Years of living together with the same person makes one develop the ability of sniffing out trouble before they even start to happen. In this case it's four empty pudding packages in the trash bin that make you decide to nope right out of there before Tsumu tries to blame you for their mysterious disappearance. Again.
You put on music and walk aimlessly through the streets, one of those walks where it doesn't matter if you get lost because you have no clue where you're headed anyway. Everyone needs a stroll like that from time to time. Often they lead to situations that would otherwise probably never happen. Like running into a serial killer, but luck is on your side today so the only person you run into is a familiar lanky figure stretching by the side of the road. “Sunarin! Didn't expect to meet ya here!“
He looks up and his blushed sweaty face wears the same expression as ever. In the last months you've learned Suna has two expressions, the deadpan one, and the deadpan one with furrowed brows. “O, Miya. Well, I live nearby.“ Oh right, you did pass the bus station where he exits just a song ago. “Taking a stroll, are you?“
“Samu and Tsumu are having a screamin' match right now so I decided to get myself out of there before they'd drag me into it.“
“Tragic. Where are you headed?“
Your destination is 'who cares' so you join Suna on a walk. It's good he already ran his evening route because you're not in the mood to reenact a wanna be healthy person's only free time activity.
Just a short walk between the apartment buildings by the side of the road you reach a path of cobble stones that leads further between trees.  
“What? You didn't know there's a park here?“ Suna smirks and you're surprised his face muscles are even capable of stretching so far.
You shake your head, slightly embarrassed. “No, I really didn't. To be fair this neighbourhood used to be ruled by another clan so we never played around here,“ you quickly add as if children clan wars from years ago are a better excuse than simply being unfamiliar with this part of the town.
Suna doesn't comment but the corners of his mouth keep tugging up even after you walk through the park. Or maybe that's because you tripped over nothing while watching a cat cross your path.
“We have a cat back home,“ he tells you and shows you the picture of his little sister with a big fluffy orange cat on her lap.
“So cute,“ you coo, “looks just like ya.“
“Oh yeah, lots of people say she looks just like me. I think I'm more handsome though.“
“No, I meant the cat.“
This time you're the one prepared to jump away form a well aimed kick but Suna only gives you a disappointed glare. “I thought you were the nice Miya.“
You sympathetically pat his shoulder. “Sorry. My sincere condolences. Shall I send some flowers for the funeral of yer last brain cell? Samu always wanted a cat but dad wouldn't let him.“
“Really? Why not?“
“Oh he made the mistake of asking just after the mango incident.“
“The-“
“Only Miyas are allowed to know about it,“ you say, snickering at Suna's furrowed brows. You know curiosity is going to eat at him for weeks to come. Maybe you should come up with a cover story, just in case. “Do ya miss yer friends? Ones from Aichi I mean?“
Suna thinks for a moment, maybe still trying to figure out what a mango incident could possibly be. “Sometimes,“ he says after a while and a poke to his side, “but I met a lot of new people at the dorms. Inarizaki isn't that bad either. There's you and Ginjima, and your brothers sometimes, and ehm,“ he mumbles as he tries to remember whom else he could call a friend.
“If Tsumu or Samu bring this topic up just let them know ya were my friend first,“ you pout. That's the problem with having had siblings in the same class for the entire grade and middle school; all your friends were also their friends. “It can't be easy,“ you say, half trying to make him feel better, and half just changing the topic that's starting to turn his ears red, “movin' over here I mean. Ya really left all ya knew behind for volleyball. That's pretty admirable. Ya just might be as crazy as Samu and Tsumu.“
“Please don't compare me to your brothers,“ says Suna.
“That bad, eh? So what's it like? Livin' in a dorm?“
“Oh. Well. We're four in a room-“
“Yikes. And I thought havin' two other people in your room is a lot.“
Suna laughs. Oh, so he can do that. It suits him, you decide after a moment. “Now take into account that two of those keep leaving dirty socks around.“
“Oh I know what that's like,“ you nod, all too familiar with dirty socks under table, under bed and other parts of bed you'd rather not think about.
“I doubt you'd get in trouble for punching them though.“
“Oh I would.“ You look him over. “Ya don't really look like a punchin' type to me. More a very petty guy. Soy sauce in mornin' tea kind of guy.“
“You're giving me ideas.“
“Thanks, that will be one kit-kat. Or none if ya put some in Samu's water bottle.“
“All in all dorm isn't that bad,“ Suna tells you once you both stop laughing over the prospect of putting soy sauce into Osamu's drink. “Wish I could sleep a bit longer in the morning but what can you do? And I miss mom's cooking. We cook ourselves and the food is good. Usually. It's just not the same, you know? Want a chuupet?“
“Ya brought a chuupet to an evenin' run?“
You still gladly take the fruit stick. It's a rare occasion in which it isn't in danger of being snatched away by one of your co-spawns. You don't comment but the next day a neatly wrapped bento box waits on Suna's table.
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Suna doesn't quite remember when you became friends. One day you were a girl from his class that looked suspiciously similar to those loud Twins on the volleyball team (the moment he realised your last name is in fact Miya too he felt incredibly stupid for not noticing sooner), the next day you're hanging with him during breaks and sending him messages along the lines of 'I'll buy you as many chuupets as ya want if ya tell me what happened at practice yesterday, I need to let Tsumu know who's the boss' that usually arrive in the middle of the night. Even if they wake him up your name popping on his screen still makes him smile.
Really it takes impossibly long for Suna to realise he doesn't enjoy being in your presence only because being friends with you is as easy as getting the ball around a block or because you're the one Miya to voluntarily share your food with him.
The moment the cogs finally fell in their place and began to spin, making the little 'there might be something more' thought appear is one he'll remember for the rest of his life, and will quite probably haunt his nightmares too.
That's the thing about emotions (truly the revelations of that day are almost too much for his volleyball focused teenage brain), they take over neurones in charge of sending information around the brain, bribing the ones running toward mouth to run faster than the ones heading towards the comprehension centre, and then you find yourself in awkward situations such as saying your name out loud in the packed locker room followed by: “She's really funny and amazing. I like her a lot.“
But the situation being awkward is the least of Suna's problems as two pairs of almost identical brown eyes stare him down.
Oh, shit.
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tag list: @espressons @trashy-simp @nachotrash @megumiisee @foxxtrot-116 @e-wwis​
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