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#but I got stuck with it and didn't feel like trying to finish it
ruddyhotelau · 16 hours
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Hello, by the way, your work is amazing and I try not to miss anything or updates🌟
I have a question. I knew a lot about Emily and Lute's🥰💞, but what about Michael and vox's? How did their relationship start???
JusticeStatic's storyline in the AU begins after the main series ends. Vox was guilty of a felony, but thanks to Emily's success in convincing Michael, Vox was given a second chance to prove that he could change under Michael's strict supervision (This was Emily's idea).
So the two of them were stuck with each other and Vox had to live in Michael's palace so the King can have a better watch on him. Both Vox and Michael inherently did not like each other, but in the situation of having to be together, the two of them gradually got used to the other's presence. Over time, Vox also put away his charming, fake businessman mask because he knew that mask had no effect in front of the King of Hell.
Originally, they didn't even intend to talk to each other, but because Vox had most of his power sealed and Michael's palace was quite boring, the TV demon often appeared to bother Michael, making him feel extremely annoying. However, over time, Michael also discovered many aspects of Vox that he did not think existed.
Vox might not be as stupid as Michael thought. At one point he attempted to throw some unimportant papers to Vox for him to handle, but mainly to make Vox shut up. Unexpectedly, beyond Michael's expectations, the demon completed the assigned task quite well. Even with the sharp eyes of a businessman, he also came up with solutions that Michael had never thought of. This also left a good impression of him in Michael's eyes.
On a rare occasion that they had a serious conversation, Michael had always thought Vox would enjoy watching humanity writhe in crime and chaos, love to witness people's suffer but turn out, Vox just didn't give a damn about that. Don't get him wrong, Vox sure loves chaos and pain for others but that never is his number one priority. The demon only cares about what will bring most benefit for him, for his wants. If people being happy means he would get closer to his goal then he will make sure those bitches keep their smile still on their faces by one way or another.
While Michael hates the idea of sacrificing everything for desire, Vox is infatuated with it. For him, it is the blind pursuit of desire and stubbornness because of greed that makes human life in hell even more bustling, exciting and unpredictable because every day will pass like a mysterious and exciting gamble. Compared to angels who suppress their desires and live aimless, boring lives, wouldn't it be happier to pursue their ambitions and taste the sweet fruit at the end of the road? Like Princess Emily, for example. Didn't her dream also originate from desire?
Having finished speaking, he smiled a cold, evil smile of a scummy bastard while slowly enjoying the glass of Whiskey in his hand. At that moment, the King of Hell felt that the demon in front of him was no longer the usual flat faced TV that he knew. He vaguely saw an image of a sharp businessman in his 50s, proudly showing off a pile of money stained with innocent blood - a terrible bastard. Michael was disgusted by him, but he also didn't expect that the idiot he always despised would have such "profound" moments...
And it was also extremely interesting to see the person Michael thought was sharp a few hours ago turn into a rowdy child after losing a game of chess, just few taunts from Michael made the demon angrily flipped the chessboard.
In the end, Vox is still a hundred years old man, the "silence" between them will still happen. The moment the two stood side by side without saying a word.
The moment when Vox could be quietly smoking outside the balcony while Mike soon noticed from afar. Different from the look that irritated Michael the day before, different from the look with a sly smile the other day, even more different from the look of a noisy from before... There is something more "real" about that cunning demon. And before Michael knew it, he had unconsciously walked towards Vox.
Vox quickly realized Michael's footsteps were approaching. He turned back to look at the fallen angel and his expression immediately changed. He smirked and teased Michael a few words. Vox braced himself for a punch to land on his screen, but it never came.
This time, Mike just glared at Vox before ignoring the rest of his words and silently watching the explosions and screams from the city in the distance. Vox saw that the person next to him had no reaction to the sarcastic words. He could only roll his eyes in annoyance, then leaned back against the railing to light a new cigarette.
In that moment, a rare sight occurred. The King of Hell was currently calmly looking out at the chaos from afar while the demon he had always despised quietly leaned his back against the railing while inhaling a rich cigar…
Immersed in his own thoughts, Vox didn't notice when Michael's hand reached out. Michael was always curious about the taste of those cigars - the drug that always filled the body of the man next to him. Why is he so addicted to it? Perhaps today, Michael will break the rules and let himself try something "toxic"...
Michael suddenly snatched Vox's unfinished cigarette away, making him startled and upset, shouting, "Hey!". Michael continued to ignore Vox and slowly imitated the other person, taking a gentle breath. Gray smoke poured into his mouth, making the King of Hell frown slightly. The taste was exactly as he expected, extremely bad and completely unappealing... But Michael did not throw it away, instead continued to bring the cigarette to his lips and slowly enjoy it...
Mike's thoughtful appearance while smoking and the image of the cloudy smoke escaping from the his dry lips made Vox's choke a bit, his face suddenly slightly warmed up. Uncomfortable with his own unusual thoughts, Vox turned to the other side of the railing, feeling the blood-scented Hell wind blowing onto the screen, causing Vox to relax a bit... And that wind also brought the smell of coffee that he always loved from the smoke of the person next to him...
Vox frowned slightly, then leaned his whole body against the railing, looking down... A rare peaceful atmosphere, both were immersed in their own thoughts and did not care about the other's presence at that time. It wasn't until Michael finished smoking that he quietly walked inside, giving Vox back the quiet space.
A moment later, out of habit, Vox reached into his pocket to take another cigarette, but this time he discovered that the pack was empty. Vox stared at the empty cigarette box for a moment while his thumb gently rubbed the golden letters on the box. Then, suddenly and without thinking, Vox flicked it, sending the box flying down. Luckily Michael wasn't there to witness it, otherwise Vox would have had to hear him complain about littering again. Standing just a moment longer, Vox turned on his heel and walked back inside, silently closing the balcony door.
_____________________
Basically, their relationship will start really slow. It's a long amount of time to change from hate to love. Like it just their slice of life of understanding more about each other and find out that maybe the other wasn't that bad and eventually, slowly open themselves with the other and enjoy each others' company... This just some of what happen in their daily life when they live together. Sorry if you guys found them kinda messy and hard to understand because our explanation is kinda long and not to the point much. I guess t is is more lia an oneshot than a real ans to er the question.
But I hope you guy can at least see some reason behind why we ship them and even love them as we do?
If you can read to the end and see my silly ranting then thank you so much for reading this. I really appreciate that!!! >=333
Bonus some JusticeStatic arts for you guys who don't use X
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colour-me-katie · 2 days
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The Umbrella Academy ideas that are stuck in my head (part 2): Training
A fanfic idea where Klaus was involved in his siblings trainings cause Reginald saw he wasn't making enough progress in is own and "You must contribute somehow Number Four". But no one knew what each others individual training involved cause they hated taking about it. But one day after the not-apocalypse or whatever the conversation gets brought up and one of them mentions that Klaus was involved in the their trainings and they all are like....wait he was in mine too. And Klaus is like "yeah, I always preferred your trainings over mine" Then they ask Klaus what his training was and if anyone else was involved but he doesn't want to tell them about the mausoleum or how he later found out that Reginald used to kill him/let him die and time how long it took him to come back.
Luther (I'm not really sure how to include Klaus in training for him yet)
Diego's training included having him throw knives and things at various targets until his hands ached. Then Reginald wanting him to practice curving the projectiles so he made Klaus stand in front of a target (cause he knew Diego had a "weakness" for Klaus and also that Klaus couldn't die, not that he told anyone that) and made Diego throw knives at him. Later upgraded to Reginald throwing the knives and making Diego try to stop or repeal them. And he messed up sometimes and got so upset at hurting Klaus but Klaus is just like "Don't worry Di I trust you not to hurt me on purpose" and "It's okay Di, it's just a scratch". And Klaus just got used to the pain and build up a high pain tolerance.
Allison's training included rumoring over and over until her throat hurt. But she needed to rumor someone for Reginald to see the effects and how different wording and even languages changed the results. So Klaus got picked cause he was the best at/knew the most languages so he could understand (maybe because of the ghosts). And Allison kinda hated doing it to him but was afraid of Reginald and wanted to prove herself so she just made Klaus do a bunch of things. And Klaus got used to the idea and feeling of his body and mind not really being his own and kinda just dissociated after a while.
Five's training included practicing jumping until he felt like passing out. Then one day Reginald wanted him to practice with another person and chose Klaus. And Klaus got so dizzy and sick the first time he threw up so Reginald forbade him from eating on Five's training days cause "I will not stand you making a mess Number Four". Klaus didn't tell anyone and when asked why he doesn't eat sometimes he just said he wasn't hungry. Later Klaus thinks back on this when he is living on the streets and is already familiar with the feeling of hunger.
Ben's training didn't involve Klaus because it was too dangerous even for Reginald. But Klaus was always there when Ben was finished. And he would drag him to the bathroom and clean him up and then they would cuddle under blankets together in Ben's bed and Klaus would talk about anything and everything just to distract Ben from thinking too much about the Horror. And sometimes Ben hated when his stomach was touched cause it hurt or he was afraid that the Horror would just react without his control but other times when they would cuddle, Klaus would lay his hand or even his head again Ben's stomach and for a moment Ben knew how much Klaus trusted him and how much faith he had in him and in that moment it made Ben feel safe and in control.
Viktor obviously didn't have training like the others but he remembers when he would learn a new song and finally be able to play it through without messing up and wanting to show Reginald or his siblings but was afraid they wouldn't care. But Klaus would come into his room sometimes and listen to him play and he would sit on his bed and fall asleep. Viktor admits that at the time he thought Klaus was just bored and it hurt that he never listened to the whole song. But present Klaus says that he wasn't bored but that Viktor's room never had any ghost (unlike his other siblings who became murderers/haunted way to young) and his music was so beautiful and peaceful. That Viktor's room was safe, that Viktor was safe. And feeling safe was something Klaus rarely felt as a kid but in those moments with Viktor he was able to relax and actually sleep.
Anyway I just want a hurt/comfort fic with Klaus and his siblings.
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orangesavannah · 2 months
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Veiled in Dread
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aperrywilliams · 9 months
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Little Big Secret (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator)
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Author Masterlist
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: You’re 36 weeks pregnant with Spencer’s baby. What happens when you are about to give birth and need to contact Spencer while he is in a case out of town?
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Pregnancy and labor symptoms are described. Some strong words. If I missed something, let me know. It's a fluffy one. Dad!Spencer coming to light. The chaotic trio I love having their moment (Reid-Morgan-Prentiss).
A/N: I wrote this fic based on this request. I loved doing it! Let me know what you think.
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Being 36 weeks pregnant and stuck in your apartment trying to convince your non-born baby girl to stop kicking your guts is not funny. It's worse when the same scenario occurs at 3 am, and you are alone, unable to sleep in the last 24 hours, exhausted and sentimental because your boyfriend Spencer isn't home.
You won't tell him that, though. You convinced him to go with the team to Trenton for a case, telling him you would be okay and that baby girl Reid won't be here for at least two weeks. That's what your doctor said to you in the last appointment.
Reluctantly Spencer agreed, making you swear you would call him or your sister if anything happened.
"Relax, baby. Everything will be okay. We'll be here when you return from your case," you assured him. "You have to go while you can. Once this girl is born, you'll be stuck here and will get tired of us," you giggled. Spencer's eyes widened.
"What? No! Get tired of you? Never!"
"About that. Do they know why you are taking leave in the next weeks?"
"Not really. Hotch knows, but the rest assume I'll go to see my mom," your boyfriend shrugged.
You still find it unbelievable that the best-known profilers in the country haven't noticed one of their own has a girlfriend for three years and a baby on the way.
At first, you had your apprehensions about why Spencer didn't want his team to know your existence. You thought maybe Spencer felt embarrassed because of you or didn't consider your relationship worth enough for them to know. But your boyfriend assured you it was anything but that. He told you what happened to Haley, Hotch's wife, and the multiple times a team's family member has been exposed to danger because of their job. He wanted you safe. He wanted to protect you.
The only one who knew about you was Hotch, Spencer's boss. But he, better than anyone, could understand Spencer's reasons, so he hadn't said anything.
You understood it and accepted it, even if you both knew that at some point, your secret would not be a secret anymore. For now, it was safer like this.
Exhaustion was all you got now, and even you have been trying to bribe your unborn daughter with chocolates if she behaved and let you sleep. It seemed you succeeded as she stopped making a party in your womb.
You fall asleep thinking about how your life has changed in the past years and how happy you were despite how uncomfortable pregnancy was at this point.
The next morning you woke up feeling a little better. Sleep helped, but your body was still tense, so you thought a warm bath after breakfast was a good idea to relax your sore muscles.
You were finishing your pancakes when Spencer called you.
"Hey, baby!" You greeted.
"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?"
You didn't have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable you were last night.
"Good. Everything is good here. How is the case?" You tried to direct the topic to him. Spencer sighed.
"I think we are close to catching the unsub, but it had been hard," he confessed.
"I know you'll get him soon," you assured him. Spencer chuckled. He loved how you were always rooting for him. You were his biggest fan.
"I hope so. And you? Our baby girl has been good? When I come back-" he didn't even finish the sentence when someone called his name in the distance. 'Reid! We need you now!'
A heavy sigh left Spencer's lips.
"I'm sorry, love. I got to go," he mumbled into the receiver, guilt dripping from his voice.
"Hey, it's okay. Don't apologize and go to catch the bad guy," you encouraged him.
"I will. I love you so so much. And I love our little one. I promise to make it up to you both, okay?"
"I love you more. We'll be waiting for you."
Despite your efforts to relax during your bath, it seemed baby Reid had other plans, like moving and squeezing your insides. You tried singing to her, telling stories, and everything that came to mind.
You gave up and hopped off the tub. You dried your body and decided to watch some TV. After a while, stuck in a random show, the noise lulled you to sleep without noticing.
Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that an intense pain woke you up suddenly. You didn't know the time, but the TV was still on. You tried to sit on the sofa, but the pain wouldn't leave you, so much so that it was hard for you to breathe. The twisting in your belly was stronger than you'd ever felt and scaring you.
"My sweet girl, I know you're eager to see us, but you have some days left in Mommy's womb, so try to be nice, okay?" You panted, trying to reason with your baby.
You weren't ready to give birth, let alone without Spencer.
But, again, baby Reid had her own plans.
Another sharp pang made you slouch on the sofa; this time, you felt something warm running down your legs. You looked down and saw the liquid drip onto the couch and slide to the floor.
Fuck. Your water just broke.
-
The morning was a rush for the whole team and the Tremont police. After an anonymous tip, they located the guy who fitted the profile and ended up being the unsub they were looking for. As he had a hostage, the team moved quickly to the warehouse where he kept captive his ex-girlfriend, the source of his rage. Before things went further, Rossi's shot ended with the unsub screaming in pain and the hostage a nervous wreck but unharmed.
Spencer couldn't believe it took them a whole week to locate the bastard, but it was finally done. So they returned to the precinct to wrap the last details and go home.
Spencer was pulling the case photos off the board when his phone started ringing. He saw it was you and hastened to answer. Usually, you didn't call him while he was working.
"Hello?"
But a loud grunt came to his ear instead of your sweet voice. Spencer's eyes widened.
“(Y/N)? Is that you?"
You barely could say a word, the intense pain reducing you to heavy breathing and whimpers.
"Spence-" you managed to say. "The baby. It hurts."
It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening."Where are you? What's wrong? Where is Tania?"
Too many questions, and you had answers for all of them. But it was difficult to say a word with the pain cursing your body. After the contraction subsided, you could speak.
"My water broke. I'm home, and Tania doesn't answer. I don't know- ahhhh, fuck!!!"
Shit. You were in labor and alone at home. Spencer wanted to throw up.
"Baby, listen to me. I will call 911, but I need you to breathe, okay?"
"No! Spencer, don't hang up. I need you," you cried.
Spencer paced frantically in the room as Emily, Morgan, and Rossi looked at him, worried.
To call 911? Who the hell was he talking to?
"Reid? What is it?" Morgan tried to get his attention, but Spencer's brain was trying to make a plan to help you without stopping talking to you.
“(Y/N), please. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, please?"
JJ and Hotch entered the room at that moment. Both frowned when they saw Spencer pacing and the rest standing and waiting to know what was going on and what to do to help Spencer.
“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"
You couldn't reply to him, crying in pain instead. Spencer thought he could die of panic.
"Yes. But I can't move," you sobbed.
Hotch didn't need much to understand what was going on. Grabbing his phone, he called Penelope.
Spencer was reduced to dumb and didn't know what to do.
"Garcia, I need you to call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to..." he paused and looked at Spencer, who was talking to you. "Reid," Hotch named. When he got no response, he tried louder. "Reid! Where? Where is she?" Spencer's face found Hotch's.
"At my place," he told his boss.
"Garcia, an ambulance to Reid's address. Report a pregnant woman in labor that needs to go to the hospital. I need you to go there too. Make sure she gets to the hospital alright. I'll give you more information later."
Pregnant woman in labor at Spencer's address?
Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi shared the same confused looks.
"Baby, the help is on the way. Penelope knows and will help you to go to the hospital. She has a key, so don't worry. I'm on my way, okay? I'll call Tania too," Spencer informed you, moving to collect his things.
"Please, hurry up," you begged. As the call ended, Spencer turned to see his boss.
"Hotch. I have to-. I need to-," Spencer stuttered. Aaron nodded.
"It'll be okay; we are leaving now," he assured Spencer.
Morgan was the first to bring the elephant in the room.
"Can you tell us what's going on?"
Then, Spencer noticed the team hearing the whole ordeal.
"Uh. My 36-week pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to my daughter right now, and she's alone. I need to be there," Spencer succinctly explained as he dialed (Y/N)'s sister's number again without luck.
To say the team was shocked was an understatement. But there wasn't time to ask questions. They needed to move quickly.
Hotch was who took the lead.
"Morgan, you'll drive to the hospital with Reid and Prentiss now. I'll stay with JJ and Rossi to pack everything and follow you. The drive to DC is about three hours; make it two. I'll take care of the traffic police," he said to Morgan, who nodded, grabbing the car keys. "Prentiss, you'll get an open line with Garcia while she joins (Y/N) and takes her to the hospital. Now go!" Hotch instructed, now patting Spencer's back. "You'll get on time. Go," he told Spencer, who nodded and stomped from the room, followed by Morgan and Prentiss.
-
"Hey, Reid. We'll make it, kid," Morgan assured while driving on the highway, Emily as the copilot. In the back seat, Spencer couldn't stop bouncing his leg, worried about if the ambulance had already taken you to the hospital. On cue, Emily's phone went off.
"Garcia, you're on speaker," Emily announced.
"My lovelies, good news. I got your girl, boy Wonder, and we're heading to the hospital. Besides the pain, she's fine," Garcia recounted, and Spencer could breathe again.
"Can I talk to her?" Spencer asked.
"No, yet; they have her in the stretcher and with oxygen while monitoring her, but as we reach the hospital and will get her admitted, we can call you again. Nonetheless, she asked me to tell you she hated you for putting a baby in her. I really like this girl already," Garcia quipped, making laugh Emily and Morgan. Spencer's cheeks flushed.
"Garcia?" He sheepishly asked. "Can you tell her I love her and am on my way?"
Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other briefly. They still couldn't believe what was happening, but either way, they had a mission to accomplish: get to the hospital before you gave birth, so the resident genius could see his baby born.
"Sure thing. I will. I'll keep you posted," Garcia assured before hanging up.
Spencer could sense that Emily and Morgan were itching to cover him with questions, but knowing his nervous state, they were respectful enough not to say anything.
"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't tell you anything about (Y/N) before," he mumbled.
"And the baby," Emily added with a non-malice tone.
Spencer's face fell with embarrassment. They were his family, after all. And he kept this little big secret from them.
"But we get it, Reid. We do," Morgan ensured.
"Yeah?"
"Yes. We all know this job, and we want the best for our loved ones, keeping them safe," Prentiss said, turning to see Spencer, who nodded. "What I still can't believe is that you kept us in the dark for three years, and none of us ever suspected a thing. They should fire us," Emily added, making Spencer chuckle.
"What I can't believe is you were able to make someone fall in love with you," Morgan quipped, smirking and gaining a slap on the arm from Prentiss. "And get her pregnant! You have been having a game all this time, and I still thought I needed to be your wingman," Morgan scoffed.
"Worst wingman on earth. He had had to do all the work for himself," Emily added. The three laughed.
They were still with an ETA of one hour when Penelope Facetimed.
"Garcia! How is she?" Spencer rushed to ask.
"Hello to you, genius," Penelope greeted. "(Y/N) is already in a room. She's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so we're waiting," she informed, turning the camera to focus you on the bed, exhausted but relieved of being in the hospital already.
"Honey!" Spencer shouted as Garcia handed the phone.
"Are you coming?" you asked in a broken tone. You didn't have much energy at this point.
"Yes! On my way now. Morgan is driving us with Emily," he informed you.
"We're almost there, pretty girl!" Morgan yelled from the driver's seat.
You let a wary smile. Spencer only wanted to be there with you so he could hold you.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled.
"No. No. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Spencer hastened to point.
"Our little big secret is no longer a secret," you pouted, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.
"Baby, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is you and our little girl being okay. Believe me; it's the only that matters to me. I'm sorry for leaving you," Spencer sniffled.
"I love you," you said, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"And I love you so much," Spencer declared, wiping his tears.
You both kept in Facetime for a while. Spencer tried to keep you focused on anything but the pain, though it was difficult when a deep contraction raked your body from time to time.
Spencer recited your favorite poems and stories and recounted your best memories together. As a natural thing, Emily, Morgan, or Penelope made questions and comments about the things you or Spencer said. That helped. You felt accompanied, not only by your boyfriend but also by the beautiful people who were taking care of you and him. If you ever thought Spencer's coworkers didn't care about him, now all those doubts are cleared.
"We're getting there in five!" Morgan announced.
"Garcia, please tell the staff Spencer is coming so they let him rush upstairs," Emily requested.
"On it!" Garcia chirped. “The doctor is here, so I’ll hang up. Boy Wonder, the third floor, hall to the left,” she informed before the call ended.
Pushing the brakes in front of the hospital’s entrance, Morgan turned to Spencer.
"Go, pretty boy. We'll be there waiting," the man assured.
"Go to see your girls," Emily added. Spencer’s eyes were full of tears.
"Thank you. Really, thank you so much," he voiced before climbing off the SUV and rushing inside the hospital.
-
The doctor announced you were almost ready to give birth now. Just another centimeter of dilation, and you’ll need to push. After he left, you squeezed Penelope’s hand hard. You weren't sure you could do this.
“It’s okay, pumpkin. You can do it. Spencer is already here,” she comforted you. Garcia had just ended her sentence when Spencer rushed inside the room, panting and looking frantically. When he spotted you, you could see the tears in his eyes.
“Spencer!” you cried. He quickly lugged to your side. Garcia sighed, relieved that he was there. Spencer held your hand now, kissing your temple.
“I’m here, my love. I’m here. I won’t leave again,” he chanted, stroking your damped hair.
It was Penelope’s cue to leave the couple alone. But before Garcia crossed the threshold, Spencer ran to her and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he ever gave her.
“Thank you, thank you. For everything,” he mumbled. Garcia could have started crying, but it would be time for that later.
“Anytime, my love. Now go back to your woman. We’ll be outside waiting.” A grateful Spencer nodded before joining you again.
You didn't reach the last centimeter until an hour later. Spencer stood by your side, chanting praises and pushing away your sweat with a cloth whenever you needed it.
When the time came, you were pushing with all the strength you left, but your little girl wasn’t doing it easy for you.
“Spencer, I can’t,” you sobbed. Spencer kissed your head and stroked your hand.
“I know you’re exhausted, my love. But you’re almost there. We’re going to meet our little girl. Want that, right, my little pumpkin?” he talked now to your belly. The waiting room is full of aunts and uncles, ready to see you. They already love you, even if they didn't know about you until three hours ago,” Spencer pointed, and you let out a little chuckle in the middle of the pain.
The feeling of being cared for and loved gave you the last ounce of energy you needed. In the next contraction, you pushed harder, ending with a loud baby cry. Your daughter was here.
When they put her in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket, you couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful baby in the world—the best combination between Spencer and you.
“You did so good, my love. She’s wonderful, and she’s here with us,” Spencer said, voice full of emotion and tears freely rolling down his cheeks.
You couldn’t stop looking at her.
“Our little big secret,” you cooed. “You’re a lucky baby already,” you whispered to her. Spencer chuckled.
“Should I go to tell them?” He asked you.
“They will kill you if you don’t,” you quipped.
When Spencer showed up in the waiting room, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were there too.
All eyes were on him.
“A 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 19.6 inches healthy baby girl,” Spencer announced, the biggest grin plastered on his face.
The room erupted in cheers and claps, everyone taking turns to hug the new father.
Once everyone calmed down, Spencer cleared his throat.
“I want to apologize for keeping this from you. I don't want you to think I don't trust or care enough to tell you about the important things in my life. It's just- you know,” Spencer trailed off. Rossi patted his shoulder.
“We know, kid. We really do,” the older man assured him.
“Yeah, Spence. We understand. That doesn't mean it’s not a big thing, but we get it,” JJ seconded.
“We are just jealous because Hotch was the only one who knew,” Garcia scoffed.
“Boss privilege, I guess,” Hotch shrugged, making the rest laugh.
“Well, being (Y/N) and baby Reid not a little big secret anymore, we can meet them properly, right?” Morgan pointed.
“Oh, yes! Please! I want to meet my goddaughter!” Garcia chirped, and Spencer looked at her, frowning.
“Don’t look at me like that, doctor. I won the privilege when I held that poor woman in pain,” she added.
“Maybe you’ll be the godmother, but I’ll be the cool aunt,” Emily chirped.
“And I’ll be Papa Rossi,” David seconded.
Spencer shook his head, laughing as everyone on the team fought for a place in his daughter's life.
He was so happy to have you and baby Reid. But now his happiness was complete knowing he could share it, and his whole found family could be part of it.
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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger
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tidetfs · 27 days
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"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"
Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.
"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.
"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."
Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.
"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"
"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.
I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.
"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"
Max's eyes lit up.
"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"
Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.
I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.
"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."
I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."
"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."
I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.
"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."
The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.
"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.
I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.
"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."
I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.
"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"
I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.
"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.
I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.
"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"
"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."
Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.
"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"
"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."
"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"
Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."
I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.
"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"
"I can't..."
"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."
Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.
"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."
"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.
"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.
"Please, stop..."
"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."
"Wait, no, what are you doing?"
"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.
"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."
I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.
"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.
"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."
"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"
"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.
"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."
"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."
I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.
The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.
"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.
"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."
Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.
"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"
"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."
"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.
My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.
"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."
Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.
"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."
My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.
"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.
"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."
"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"
"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."
"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.
"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.
"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."
"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."
"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."
"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."
I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.
"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."
"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."
"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"
The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.
"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.
My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.
"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.
"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.
My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.
"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."
"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.
I was so turned on.
"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.
"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."
"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."
"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.
I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.
"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.
My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.
"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.
"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."
"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.
My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.
"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.
"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."
I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.
With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.
"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."
"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.
I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.
"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.
"I love you, dude." Max giggled.
"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."
"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."
"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.
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incognit0slut · 10 months
Text
Lose Control
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival. Based on:
warning: 18+ explicit content including oral (both), hair-pulling, chocking, and unprotected, semi-public, hate sex
words: 6.8k (I'm a smut-with-a-plot kind of person)
a/n: this is not enemies to lovers. This is, quite frankly, enemies to (fuckable) enemies. Also, we hit 1.2k followers!! Tysm!! I legit made this blog 2 months ago that’s crazyyy😳
MASTERLIST
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“…mind games until you lose control…”
CHANGE WAS INEVITABLE WHEN IT CAME TO HIS WORK. Spencer encountered many great people walking through the door of the bureau throughout the years he worked as a profiler. Most of them he genuinely liked, and most of them he considered more than mere colleagues. But from all the people he had to work with, there was one person he really couldn't stand.
"Move out of the way, Reid, you're blocking the way."
He turned to see the last person he wanted to indulge in standing close to him, a hand on her hip and a frown on her face. "There is literally enough space for you to pass through."
"And jeopardize myself by touching you?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll pass."
His gaze, usually warm and welcoming, hardened into a steely resolve. It pierced through her like an icy dagger, radiating an unmistakable contempt. He then backed away, walking further into the room that held rows of shelving units lining up the space. "What are you even doing here?"
"Well, ever since we found the victim's body surrounded by those cryptic signs, it reminded me of the cult massacre which happened in—"
"St. Joseph, 1947," he finished.
"Yeah, although this isn't mass murder, I thought the nature of the death was very similar to that old case." He could practically hear the smugness in her voice as she continued, "I also knew you'd be here and wanted to beat you to it."
His gaze settled on her standing by the door. "I don't think that's going according to plan considering I was here before you arrived."
"Please, you just got here. I bet I can find the files before you do."
His brows furrowed. How could he not feel some kind of disdain when she was acting the way she was? One might say he was acting too immature for his age, for a man who was close to pushing forty he did consider himself too old for petty fights. But it was hard to keep his composure when she was often the one taunting him, ridiculing him with that haughty mouth of hers.
It was better to ignore her presence completely, so he did just that, focusing his attention on the files in front of him as she stepped into the room.
She frowned, feeling her throat clenching before coughing out loud as dust particles greeted her entrance. She was busy trying to swat the specks of dust away from her face when something solid suddenly nudged her feet. Her eyes swept towards the floor.
"Why is this massive book laying here?" She picked up the thick paperback and read its title. "The Anatomy of Motive?"
Spencer's head snapped in an alert. "Wait! Don't—"
But it was too late. The old wooden door hanging loosely on its rusted hinges creaked without any support to keep it ajar, and with a resounding thud, it closed, the sound echoing through the stagnant air. "I put that there for a reason," he grumbled. "And now we're stuck here."
She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around the handle, trying to yank the door open. The panic on her face was evident when it didn't budge. "Shit."
"You can only open it from the other side."
She turned towards him. "Do you have your phone with you?"
"No."
She groaned because her own device was also securely tucked in her bag. Not wanting to be locked in a room with the last person she wanted to be with, she started pounding on the door frantically. "Help! Penelope! Luke!" Bang. Bang. "Anyone!"
"Nobody's going to hear you."
She tuned him out.
"Emily! JJ!" She pressed herself against the door, drawing her mouth close towards the tiny gap between the wooden panel and the wall. "Help! We're locked in!" She suddenly caught his movement from the corner of her eyes and turned to him, noticing the way he was already studying a file.
"What are you doing?"
He slipped back the document into the cabinet and went through the other folders. "Might as well work until they realize we're gone."
She straightened herself and glanced at the watch around her wrist. "But it's late. What if everyone's gone home and we're stuck here for the night?" A thought struck her and she looked up in horror. "Or for days?"
"Then you have yourself to blame."
She glared at him. "You're not helping."
Spencer looked up to see her jaw clenching, accentuating the sharp angles of her face. Her normally composed features, so delicately balanced, now seemed to unravel in a heat of fury. It was the only expression she held every time she had to deal with him.
He glanced away and focused back on his task. "Don't worry, we have a team of competent profilers. If they can find dangerous criminals throughout the country, they can also find their two missing agents."
She considered his words and acknowledged the truth behind them, so she reluctantly moved to the other side of the room, going through the shelves opposite of him. The space went completely still as they both went through the stack of folders shelved between the old cabinets. It wasn't until curiosity got the better of him that he finally looked up, his eyes falling onto her form.
Her back was facing him, giving him a view of her tousled hair falling down over her shoulders. His eyes involuntarily trailed the contours of her body, betraying a mixture of intrigue and curiosity. His gaze lingered upon the gentle curve of her shoulder, the graceful line of her spine, and the sway of her hips as she moved onto the next shelf, her steps echoing through the silence and it was then he realized she was wearing heels.
Again.
This wasn't the first time she decided to wear shoes that looked very uncomfortable to wear. Who even wore heels in this line of work? Being an FBI agent meant you had to be quick on your feet because anything could happen unexpectedly. He once voiced out his opinion on this matter, which she only answered with, "My choice of clothing won't reduce the capability of my brain, Reid. You and I are still doctors even if I wear a bathing suit to work."
"It's not about your choice of clothing, it's about being practical."
"That's why I keep a pair of sneakers in my drawers,” she had haughtily replied, then narrowed her eyes at him. "And don't comment on my shoes when I've held myself from judging on your ugly cardigans."
His cardigans were not ugly.
He shook the memory away as eyes roamed over her again, noticing her very exposed legs. She was also wearing a skirt today, something she often did and something he never dared to have an opinion on, knowing she would probably bite his head off if he did.
"Stop staring at me."
Spencer cleared his throat at being caught. "I wasn't."
"I could practically feel your eyes on me." She looked over her shoulder. "I have great spidey senses."
There was a sudden pause. "Spidey senses?"
"Yeah, like Spiderman." When he didn't respond, she turned around and faced him. "Please tell me you know who Spiderman is?"
When he returned her gaze with a frown, she couldn't help but laugh, turning her back towards him again. "You know this is why people like me better than you. We both may be smart, but you got to admit, my knowledge doesn't simply stop on academics."
He should've been offended by her words, he should've countered back a vile reply, but her voice became white noise to him as he watched her body leaning down, picking up a document that slipped from her grasp. His eyes caught the way the tight skirt clung to her form like a second skin. The fabric, stretched taut against her curves, highlighted the alluring lines of her figure. The skirt's snug fit caressed her thighs, tracing their slender form and hinting at the softness beneath.
This wasn't the first time he noticed her beauty in this type of way, beneath all that glare she often carried whenever he was around her, he knew she was an attractive woman. It was her personality that often stopped him from marveling this insight. But being in this closed, tight space, Spencer was forced to study her, and with the way his body was reacting, he knew his lingering stare was more than simple admiration.
He could feel his blood pulsing down south, tightening underneath the confinement of his pants.
As she straightened herself, she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She turned her head and noticed his eyes training on her body.
"You're still staring." She then caught a glimpse of something unguarded in his gaze, something that was definitely far from hatred. Her mind whirled with questions, trying to decipher the meaning behind it. "Stop looking at me like that."
A hint of a smile played on his lips. "Like what?"
"Like you either want to strangle me or—"
"Or?" He prompted.
Like you want to eat me alive.
It was the only way she could describe it. She was aware of how his eyes usually pierced her, how every movement she made or word she uttered could trigger this immense disdain radiating from him. But now the weight of his gaze bore down upon her, casting a palpable heat that danced across her skin. Something had changed, and she felt it in the intensity of his eyes, so different from the usual hostility she had come to expect.
They held a predatory gleam as if he could pounce on her at any moment.
“If I hadn't known you better," she carefully spoke, watching as he took a step towards her, and she took one back, bumping into the wall. "I'd say you're trying to flirt with me with those eyes."
"Me? Flirt with you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't flatter yourself."
She scoffed, squaring her shoulders as he closed the distance between them. "You're right. What was I thinking? You can't even flirt to live."
"You don't even know how I flirt."
"Reid, I've seen you flirt," she said between fits of laughter. "Remember you tried getting that cop's number? You were stuttering and suddenly giving her facts about oil paintings. Paintings."
"She had an interest in fine art," he stated. "And if you must know, after giving those informative facts, I told that no amount of art could ever compare to her beauty as a compliment.”
She snorted, shaking her head in disbelief. "And that actually worked? She gave you her number?"
"No." Then a smirk curled on his lips. "But she did come home with me."
She frowned. That was new information. She never really thought about what went on in his love life, but hearing him implying his active sex life had her feeling strange. "She did?"
He took another step forward. "If I hadn't known you better," he carefully spoke, mimicking her words before. "I'd say you're jealous."
She tilted her head up and scowled at him. "Even if you were the last person on this planet I wouldn't consider breathing in the same air with you."
She waited for his response, but he didn't even seem to be bothered by her words. And as they stood there, holding each other's gaze, she became acutely aware of everything; their close proximity, the warmth radiating from his body, and the rise and fall of his chest. His unfamiliar scent lingered in the air, a distinct combination of earthy musk and a hint of something indefinable. She had never allowed herself to notice it before, but now it was impossible to ignore.
Her eyes then traced the lines on his face, sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and finally settled on his eyes. At first, she thought her eyes was deceiving her, but she knew exactly what held behind his gaze. It was the same expression she saw in all her past lovers. It wouldn’t have surprised her to see the same intensity on other men, but to see it on him? The guy who had always hated her guts the moment she corrected his statistic rants the first time they met?
Spencer fucking Reid?
It was too much for her to handle. She was used to his piercing gaze, his evident disdain. Not this. It became almost overwhelming that she decided to step away.
Just as she turned to retreat from the intensity of his gaze, her body froze as she felt warm fingers gripping her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her body and her eyes snapped back at him. "What the hell are you doing?"
Ah, there it was, that hatred she was looking for blazing in his eyes again. "You see, I don't like you."
"Good." She held her chin up. "The feeling's mutual."
"You think you're better than everybody else, you think you're better than me."
She was about to retort another response when he suddenly yanked her, a gasp leaving her mouth. "But somehow I can’t help myself from wanting to taste you.”
Then it happened so fast. One moment she was trying to register what was happening, the next thing she knew his lips were on hers, moving frantically in desperate hunger. She couldn't believe he was actually kissing her. It also burned her up inside to find he was good at it. She wanted him to be all teeth and awkward so she could sneer at him and push him away, but he was holding her face in his hands like they hadn't spent months sniping at each other.
A turmoil of thoughts swarmed her mind—What are you doing? Why are you kissing him back? What the hell is wrong with you?—while she gripped onto his arm as a pleased sigh slipped through her mouth before she could catch it.
He slowly pulled away from her, eyes glittering in mischief. "Would you look at that?" he muttered, gripping her jaw and tilting her face like he was appraising her. "All bark and no bite."
She shoved his hands away from her face, ignoring how nice it had felt, wide and warm and firm. "Don't test me."
"Yeah?" His hand settled on her hip, pulling her against him deliberately slow, giving her every opportunity to knock his hand away, to sidestep him, to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He took it as a sign to run his hand behind her. "I think you're bluffing."
Her heart quickened when she felt him gently squeezing her ass. "A-About what?"
"All this bravado of yours," he taunted, his hands now trailing down to her sides. "I bet there's something sweet underneath all this bitterness."
"You don't know me," she hissed breathlessly. It was difficult to keep snapping back at him when his other hand ran up her leg, pushing her skirt up as he went, his grip encompassing the entire width of her thigh.
"Maybe not. But I'm always up for a challenge." His calloused hand brushed at the lacy edge of her underwear and she sucked in a shaky breath. "Let's see how long you can keep up with this attitude."
She opened her mouth to say something snippy, but he ducked down and kissed the words out of her mouth with a low groan. Her brain suddenly froze when his finger curled under the outline of her underwear and tugged it to the side, trailing his slender finger through her bare slit.
A smirk curled at the corner of his lips as pulled away, trailing his mouth along her jawline. His finger brushed along her slickness and it took a lot of self-control for her not to moan. "How are you already so wet?"
Although a small gasp emitted from her as she felt him sliding a finger, and when his thumb pressed against her clit, she closed her eyes, tossing her head to the side at the feeling of him filling her up.
"You're awfully quiet," he murmured against her neck, sucking a bruise against her soft skin as he began to pump his finger. "Who would've thought I had to touch you to keep your mouth shut."
She bit her bottom lip, fighting against the pleasure that surged through her, desperately trying to suppress the enjoyment coursing through her veins. "I hate you."
"No, you don't." His tone was vexingly calm, and all it did was rile her up more. She wished he'd match her frustration because his composure was annoying. Then to make matters worse, he let out an amused laugh. He fucking laughed. "Look at you trying to hold yourself back."
"I'm not—fuck." She gasped as she felt his finger curling inside her.
"Keep telling yourself that." He added another finger and she slumped against the wall, pressing back hard to keep herself upright as he pumped his wrist. "It's okay to admit you're enjoying this."
"I-I'm not," she huffed indignantly.
"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"
Her breath mingled with the sound of her arousal echoing in the narrowed space as he drove his fingers into her faster. "Shut up, Reid." She then grabbed onto his arm as the pleasure intensified, nails digging into his skin. "You think you're so smart, so full of yourself—"
"You really like picking up a fight, don't you? That's why you always have an attitude with me." His lips brushed her ear. "It gets you worked up. It gets you wet."
She quickly shook her head. "I just don't like you."
"Hmm." He leaned back and watched the way she tensed beneath his touch, her muscles coiling with delicate restraint. It was as if she fought against the pleasure that threatened to consume her, seeking to maintain control even as her body betrayed her desires. "I wonder if you'll like it as much if I put my head between your thighs."
The thought of having his face buried right where her arousal burned drove her over the edge. Her body betrayed her and she knew he could feel it too. "Oh wow, you're clenching around my fingers," he hummed in satisfaction. "Is that what you want? You want me to eat you out?"
"No," she mumbled but he found her hips bucking against his palm.
"Your body is saying otherwise." He withdrew his fingers but kept rubbing tight circles against her clit. Her blood was hammering under her skin and her legs shook as she tried to roll her hips up against his hand again. "Say you want me between your thighs."
She gritted her teeth, her muscles tightening in a valiant effort to hold back the mounting pleasure that begged to be unleashed. "I'm not saying that."
"Are you sure?" His other hand traveled along the back of her head before fisting her hair in his hand, exposing the column of her throat to him. "Don't you want to come all over my face?"
"Reid..." she mumbled hopelessly, her head spinning as his hot breath brushed against her skin. The thought of admitting that infuriated her because him actually getting her off was something she'd never live down. This was Spencer Reid, the man who had always infuriated her with his know-it-all statistics as if she hadn't already known half of the things he said.
But damn it, she really wanted him between her thighs.
"Say it," he repeated, moving his hand away entirely, and she grabbed his wrist desperately, pulling his fingers back to where she wanted them. "Say I want your mouth on me, Spencer, and I'll happily oblige."
"Reid—"
"Spencer," he corrected. "Say it."
Her body quivered, a taut wire stretched to its limit, yearning to snap under the weight of the pleasure that coursed through her. And then his finger suddenly stopped its movement and she knew he wasn't going to touch her again until she gave in. If that's how he wanted it, fine. She was going to consider this as one of their silly mind games, their usual banter whenever they tried to outwit one another. She could figure out a way to get back at him later. She could swallow her pride for now.
"I want your mouth on me," she reluctantly caved in.
"Did you forget my name?"
Unbelievable.
"I fucking hate you," she sneered. Then she pushed him away from the crook of her neck and leveled her gaze on him. "Just put your fucking mouth on me, Spencer."
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "You have a very foul mouth."
But true to his words, he eventually dropped to his knees, his hands trailing on either of her sides before he slipped her underwear down her legs. His fingers trailed along her skin as he did it, prickling the depth of her anticipation even when her mind was still trying to comprehend what she was letting herself in.
Because she had never thought of getting eaten out at work, let alone with someone she hated. Sure, hate was a very strong word, but it was what she was used to feeling whenever it came to him. It was easy to engross her hatred every time he treated her differently from the others.
Hate she could do, it came naturally to her. But to desire him, actually wanting him to bury his face between her thighs, was starting to mess her up, and not in a bad way. Not in a way that had her feeling repulsed, but in a way that made her want to grab onto his hair and pull his face right at the center of her heat.
Spencer looked up at her and smiled, as if he knew what she was thinking, and pushed up her skirt around her hips. His eyes bored into her as he hiked one of her legs onto his shoulder. His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her flushed cheeks—out of anger or embarrassment, he didn't know—and continued to sweep over the curve of her breasts before they stopped right in front of him.
"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushed her damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty thing?"
There was something compelling about having Spencer sinking on his knees before her, but having his mouth wrapped around her clit pulled away her senses and her legs started to buckle that she had to grab onto the nearest cabinet for support. She stifled a moan, not expecting the enthusiastic way he devoured her from below with frantic motions of his wandering tongue.
This was so wrong. However, heat continued washing over, traveling up towards her face and burning at the tips of her ears. The more his mouth sucked onto her, lapping his tongue through her slickness, the more her body coursed with pleasure that she couldn't stop herself from sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him in place as she ground her hips over his face.
"For someone who claims to hate me," he whispered, his voice vibrating against her skin, his tongue pushing into her walls. "You sure are enjoying this."
A moan was thick in her throat until she swallowed it down, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of how true his words were. "You're annoying. So fucking annoying," she hissed.
Spencer hummed. "And you taste so good."
She gasped in surprise when she felt him lick a long stripe along her slit, the rough pad of his tongue catching her clit as she jolted. His fingers dipped into her thighs as he held her steady, lewd sounds leaving his lips as he continued to suck her wetness. His movements were suddenly fast, so feral and animalistic as he shamelessly lapped her skin, swallowing every liquid dripping off her body.
The built-up pleasure inside her continued to grow as she rolled her hips into his mouth, trying to focus on the sensation of him pressing his tongue against the same spot each time. Her chest was heaving as she tried to focus on the pleasure that was slowly taking over her rational thoughts, the coil inside her desperately close to breaking.
"Oh, god," Her voice shook, head tipped back and eyes staring at the ceiling as she felt herself dance on the precipice of release for a few agonizing moments before she finally started to shatter. Then a strangled cry left her lips as she began to buck her hips as he continued to suck her clit through her climax, the pleasure clouding her mind. It wasn't until he finally stood up, looking down at her with a grin that she finally took in what just happened.
"Do you still hate me?"
Yes, yes she did, especially with that smug smile of his taunting her. Yet she found herself hooking her fingers around the belt strap of his pants, pulling him closer as the weight of her resistance began to crumble under the force of his unwavering gaze. "So fucking much." The triumphant smile on his face grew as she started to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the room. "Do you have a condom?"
"Do you really think I'm the type of person to be carrying a condom in my pocket?"
"I think you're the type of person who never gets laid." He threw her an uninterested stare which she decided to ignore. Then she let her hands fall to the side. "I'm not having sex without a condom."
Spencer weighed in her words. If he was smart, he would've stopped himself, pulled away, and accept her admission. But he didn't want to be smart, after depending on his intelligence throughout his life, he didn't want to be rational. It was definitely out of his character, but there was something about her that stirred a dormant part of him, awakening desires and emotions he hadn't known existed within his soul.
He had always prided himself on his restraint and self-discipline, but after finally having a taste of her, he found himself unraveling. He wanted more. So he leaned closer, and pressed a desperate kiss at the hollow of her throat, marveling at the way her body trembled from his touch. "Why not?"
She was going to regret it. She really was. But damn it, how could she restrain herself when he was sucking into her skin like a man starved. She splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him away before giving him the deadliest glare she could muster.
"I swear to god if you finish inside me I will kill you."
Then a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. "Was planning to come in your mouth anyway."
She was about to retort a haughty response when he suddenly grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around, pushing her against the wall. She was taken aback by the newfound dominance he exuded in his touch. It was a side of him she had never witnessed before, and it sent a thrill of surprise and intrigue coursing through her veins, something she would never admit out loud.
He dragged his tongue across his lips at the sight before him as his hands reached for his belt, unclasping the strap before unbuttoning his pants, the sound of his zipper being pulled down echoing in the narrowed space. He then slightly pulled down his briefs, slipping out his cock before his knee wedged in between her thighs, parting her legs to open.
He slightly shifted, his jaw twitching as he gathered saliva in his mouth, craning his neck down to spit on her pulsing core before the head of his cock gently nudged her clit. Embarrassingly, she clenched around nothing. Her vision went white and she felt herself tremble as he positioned himself at her entrance, pushing in inch by inch.
"Fuck," he sighed, hips twitching as he finally slid into her fully, feeling her walls clenching hard around him. "I can get used to this."
She could get used to this too. She had never felt so full before, never felt herself being stretched like this so deliciously, but she certainly didn't need to feed his ego by moaning about it. "Well don't, this is the only time I'm letting this happen."
He pulled back his hips, leaving only the tip as he watched her slickness coated around him. "We'll see about that."
And then all hell broke loose.
He slammed into her with so much force that she let out a muffled scream as her eyes shot wide open. He relentlessly bucked his hips, his cock filling her over and over without self-control, the tip of him hitting her deepest parts relentlessly. She could barely even think as his hips fell into a rhythm, sending her higher and higher with each thrust.
Her legs tensed up even more at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips so hard his fingers dig into her flesh that she knew she would leave bruises. Behind her, he was grunting and growling through gritted teeth as he repeatedly buried himself into her without remorse. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had her eyes rolling back behind closed lids, her mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.
One of his hands released her hip before she felt him grabbing a fistful of her hair, just at the base of her skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise tore out of her at the feel of it. "Poor baby," he cooed. "Look at you so desperate for my cock."
She couldn't help but be stunned by his words. Who would've thought Spencer Reid was good at dirty talk? Definitely not her. It was as though he had unveiled a secret facet of his personality that had remained hidden until now, and she found herself captivated by this revelation.
Not that she was going to admit this, of course, so instead, she solely focused on the way he addressed her. "I am not your baby."
"You want me to call you something else?" He asked between bated breaths, hips thrusting into her. "How about Angel? Darling? Sweetheart?"
She let out a frustrated groan at his teasing but it was probably impossible to discern it from the rest of the noises she was trying to hold. "Are you always this chatty during sex?"
"No," he hummed as he picked up his pace, sending a helpless spasm through her.
"R-Really?" She mused breathlessly. "I must be special then."
He then tugged on her hair even rougher, causing her to curse loudly in response, her hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as his hips jutted into her relentlessly like a man possessed. "Don't get too cocky."
"Just admit it," she whispered, pleasure racing down her body in waves. "You like me."
With another sharp tug on her hair, he abruptly plunged his cock so deep inside of her that she couldn't stop herself from arching her back. He held himself there as he used the grip on her hair to haul her backward to him, a surprised yelp falling out of her. "I don't like you."
Her back fell onto his chest and she felt his body vibrating behind her. "Then why is your heart beating so fast?"
"Well, sex is physically exerting so..."
How was it possible to be this aroused and annoyed at the same time? Wasn't sex supposed to be enjoyable? Well, she was clearly enjoying this, but it was hard to fully sink into the pleasure when he was driving her insane. Unless...
It dawned on her, that was her move. That was how she could play his game. Maybe she should be enjoying this to the fullest, maybe she should stroke his ego, get into his head, and have him feel as desperate as she was. A fierce determination ignited within her, fueling a newfound resolve to turn the tables on him. This was how she was going to get him back.
"Harder," she asked, pushing her hips into him.
His pace suddenly slowed down, uncertain whether he was hearing her right. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "Please?" she added before he could prompt her.
A satisfied sound escaped his lips—it was a sound she had never heard coming from him, loud and crude emitting between a growl and something coming close to a whimper, which had her smiling triumphantly. "L-Look at you begging now."
This was easier than she expected. She rolled her head back against his shoulder and let out a moan she had kept so hard on controlling. "I want you to fuck me harder, Spencer."
His sharp intake of breath at that moment was worth it. "I know what you're doing."
"What am I doing, baby?" she asked sweetly, dripping in forced affection that sounded nothing like her at all.
He instantly released the hold on her hair, his hand snaking around to grip her throat as his other hand slid around the front of her. "You're messing with me."
She let out a strained sound as she felt his other hand traveling down where they were connected. "I-I thought you wanted me to admit how good you make me feel? Is that not enough? You want me to cry out how amazing your cock feels inside me?"
Then she couldn't help her next words.
"Should I call you daddy?"
Oh, that got him. He hissed as the hand on her throat tightened. "You're a menace."
"A menace you enjoy fucking?"
His lips curled into a snarl. "I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face."
Only then he began to thrust back into her roughly. A series of breathy, needy gasps fell out of her as she held tight onto his forearm that was holding her by her throat. His other hand on her clit circled around roughly, touching her just right that she entirely lost it, her hips quaked against him as he groaned out in response, her walls clenching his cock.
Then his hand left her clit a few moments later, instead landing hard on her ass with a sharp smack that sounded throughout the room. His fingers dug into the flesh there as his hips began clumsily ramming into her, his cock twitching inside of her. The stimulation was too much for her that she clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to keep quiet as he stretched her harshly, the delicious burn only adding to the pleasure.
"You're still holding back?" He taunted, bringing back his hand before another loud smack rang in her ears, her ass burning from the pain. "Let that voice out, no one's going to hear you."
It was amazing how long she could hold in her pleasure because now her walls were starting to crumble when a particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her just right. And then, it happened—the dam of restraint finally burst. A low moan escaped her lips, a primal cry of pleasure that echoed through the room like a song of surrender
"That's it," he grunted. "You sound so pretty."
As the sensations intensified, her breaths came in shallow gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. Once she let herself go, she couldn't stop herself from moaning out his name, to which he responded with his own moan, especially when she clenched around him even tighter.
"You gonna come for me now?" She helplessly nodded, not trusting herself to form any coherent words, squirming her hips against him for more. "Go on then," he demanded, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me."
She finally snapped as she gave in to the sensation that had been gradually crawling its way up her spine. Pleasure was soon coating every inch of her and as her eyes closed. She didn't bother to muffle her cries this time as she fell apart around his cock, her body convulsing as he continued to thrust inside her, forcing the pleasure to keep growing stronger and stronger until small black spots started to appear in her vision.
When her climax had washed over, she was left dizzy and breathless, still leaning against him. His loud panting breaths quickly filled her ears, his chest heaving beneath her head and she could tell by the way his hips were fluctuating in their pace, the feel of his throbbing cock inside of her, that he was very close to his release.
Panic suddenly crept into her daze state and she craned her neck to look back. "Don't you dare finish inside me, I swear to god—"
Very abruptly he slipped his cock out from inside of her, his arms releasing their hold on her just as fast before turning her to face him.
"Get on your knees."
The ground scraped her skin as she quickly sank onto her knees, and just because he looked so damn good tethering in his pleasure as she stared up at him, she gripped his cock in her hands and took him fully in her mouth.
"Fuck," the gravel in his voice was prominent, her lips gliding effortlessly down his shaft until her nose hits his stomach. His hand finds its way into her hair as she kneeled there before him, fisting a bunch of it at the scalp, desperately needing something to tie him down to reality.
She slid back off his cock to take just his head inside her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before flattening it against his tip, licking a fat stripe while looking up at him through her lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, tightening the grip on her hair.
Maintaining his gaze, she took him completely down her throat again, essentially swallowing him, holding herself there until she gagged around him. She could taste him on her tongue as she continued to repeat the motion, tears welling at her lids and saliva building at her lips, seeping down her chin.
He groaned at the sight.
"I-I'm gonna come—"
And he did. She felt lightheaded as the first shot of liquid filled her mouth, and then he jutted his hips a few more times before another surge of his release spilled down her throat. She swallowed him whole, swallowed every drop of him into her mouth as he continued to look down in wonder. She never thought of ever being in this position, but now she decided there was nothing else more satisfying than to watch her rival come undone from her touch.
Although she couldn't dwell in her contentment for long because as she released him from her mouth, the sound of the door rattling waked her senses. Panic flashed in her eyes as they met his gaze, and they instinctively stepped apart before sprinting into action, Spencer tucking himself back in his pants, while she quickly got to her feet and pulled down her skirt, scurrying to the other side of the room.
It wasn't until she spotted her underwear laying by his feet that she realized she was still naked underneath. Spencer followed her line of sight and just as the door creaked, he bent down and quickly grabbed the fabric, shoving it in his pocket at the same time their friend entered the room.
"There you are," Luke sighed in relief, casting them both a look. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys. Are you both alright? I thought I heard screaming."
In that fleeting moment, they both exchanged a glance laden with unspoken messages, each silently urging the other to maintain composure.
"Yes. I-uh." She cleared her throat, struggling to suppress the heat rising to her cheeks, willing herself not to betray the blush that threatened to expose what went on before this. "I was screaming for help."
Luke watched them with keen eyes, skepticism etched upon his face. A subtle tension crackled in the air, barely noticeable to most but not escaping the scrutiny of his gaze. He watched as Spencer hid his face behind a file he was holding, and she was studying her nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.
He narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, before stepping back towards the door again. "Well, come on, there's a new lead on the case. Everyone's waiting."
When he finally left them alone again, she let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding and quickly held out her hand. Spencer raised his eyebrows at her. "What?"
"My underwear?"
He stared at her empty hand, then at her face, and shrugged nonchalantly, leaving her dumbfounded as he started to leave the room before the door closed on them again.
"Reid," she hissed, following behind him. "Give it back."
He looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, or something close to it because even after what happened a few minutes ago his smile was far from looking genuine. "Come by my place after work and I might give it to you."
Her steps faltered.
"Might?"
But his back was already facing her as he strode down the hallway. She stood there, feeling extremely exposed wearing nothing but her own skin underneath her skirt, and the only way to get back her missing piece of clothing was to force herself in his presence again.
She closed her eyes and sighed, not sure what she felt right now was either anger or exhaustion. Probably both—no, wait, definitely both.
Because what the fuck did she get herself into?
.
Quick question, if I make a taglist for my one-shots does anyone want to be added?
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bumblequinn · 6 months
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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theysherobinbuckley · 11 months
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a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4
(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)
Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.
His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.
"Uh, what?"
"What are you doing hanging around Max?"
Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"
"So?"
"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"
"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."
"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"
Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.
"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."
Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.
"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"
Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.
"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."
Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.
"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."
Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.
"Did she?"
"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"
"No, I mean- did she have fun?"
Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"
Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.
"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.
Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.
"Unfortunately. What about him?"
"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."
"That's..."
"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."
"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."
"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."
Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.
Huh.
It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.
"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."
Harrington lit up at that.
"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."
"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."
"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.
Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.
Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?
"I see. Not into MILFs?"
Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.
"I'm more into brunettes."
And boy, didn't that seem pointed.
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catcze · 6 months
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⠀「 Kisses to chase away the nightmares 」 
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
[ Reader wakes up from a nightmare. Lots and lots of comfort ensues. ]
Aight. Had a Day™️ at work so this is what we're eating today
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You sit up with a gasp, eyes wide and feeling lightheaded. The blanket is crushed to your chest, the hands that grip it shaking like a leaf. Each breath that leaves you is gasping and every inhale is no better— ragged gulps of air that practically sting your lungs with each mouthful that you swallow down. You're borderline frantic, eyes trying desperately to blink away the haze in your mind. You shiver.
Too cold. The air is too cold.
But that's something, isn't it? That you can feel the cold. That you can feel the scratch of the sheets under you, that you can hear the whirr of the air conditioning. It means that you're awake. That this is real. Not a dream.
That's the first thought that brings you even the slightest of comfort, that makes your racing heart calm just a little. Barely.
But your head is stuffed with cotton. The world feels muted, as if you've got water stuck in your ear. Your hands are still shaking. You look around— the bed is cold aside from where you've been laying down.
"Babe?" you call out quietly, in case he's nearby. No response. You swallow. Your heart is aching and thrumming in your chest, pushing you forward to find him right now. To ask for a hug. A kiss. Comfort. Anything.
You toss the sheets off, shivering when the cold air licks you and just manage to remember to put on your slippers before you head out the bedroom door.
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Even so late at night, you find him in his office, eyes scanning over a sheet of paper with a thoughtful frown on his face.
You hesitate just beyond the crack in the door, peeking into the light of his office from the shadows of the hallway. Unsureness takes a hold of you, squeezing you painfully until you feel wrung-out and like this was just a stupid idea.
He's busy. Clearly he is. And it must be important too, if he's up so late fretting about it. You shift on your feet, swallowing, about to close the door back up.
This was a stupid idea, you think, deflating. You can just... bury yourself under the blankets. Maybe watch some animal videos. Hope that you fall asleep before he finishes and wonders why you're still up so late at night.
"You've been standing in the doorway for five minutes," he suddenly says, gentle but all-too-loud in the dead of the night. You freeze.
When you look back at him from behind the doorframe, he's already dropped his pen and paper back on the desk. All his focus is on you, and there's a worried crease to his brow.
He notes the shaky way you stand, how you worry the inside of your cheek. No doubt he can see the way you fiddle with the edge of your (his) sleeping shirt, too.
"What's wrong?" he asks, already getting out of his seat. His worry propels him forward, making him reach you at the doorway before you can even step foot inside the office.
You look away. "It's nothing. It's dumb, now that I think of it."
He clicks his tongue in disagreement, his hand reaching for yours and weaving your fingers together. "Try me, honey."
"... I had a nightmare."
There's a gentle squeeze on your hand, encouragement to keep going.
You take a breath. "I... can't remember what it was about. I just know I felt sick when I woke up. And I didn't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone."
He hums, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. "I don't want you to be alone, either," he says softly, and your heart practically melts.
"Do you want to try to go back to sleep?" he asks. "I can accompany you." You can already see him reaching for the lightswitch with his other hand, but you shake your head.
"I don't want to pull you away from your work—" he opens his mouth to protest, the I'm just about finished, anyway undoubtedly on the tip of his tongue. "And I don't think i can fall asleep yet either," you admit. "Can I just... stay with you for now?"
He smiles at you, small and sweet. "If that's what you want, who am I to say no?"
With ease, he tugs you back towards his desk, making sure to close the door behind you. You expect him to pull out a chair for you or to lift you and deposit you on the edge of his deks, but instead he sits back down in his seat and gracefully sweeps you off your feet to place you in his lap. All you can do is gasp in surprise, head a little too fogged up to really register it until your legs are swung over one of the armrests and your head is tucked below his chin.
"This wasn't really what I was expecting," you laugh, and he stares at you questioningly.
"Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"Mm, no. Didn't say that." As if to prove a point, you lean further into his chest, closing your eyes as you bask in the warmth of his body heat like a cat napping in the sun. You can feel the rumble of his chuckle under your ear.
His arm snakes around your middle, holding you to him, and a kiss is pressed to the crown of your head. Despite your earlier claims, your eyelids are growing traitorously heavy and your limbs are becoming more sluggish by the second. It must be how warm he is, you think. Well, either that or you just instinctively know that you're safe in his arms.
"Feel free to fall asleep," he murmurs, just low enough for you to catch. "I'll carry you back if you do."
You try not to yawn, burying your face in his chest. "Mmkay. You better not draw on my face or something while I'm asleep."
He has to hold back a laugh— it's good to see you joking around. Good to feel the tremble in your body lessen with each passing second. Good to feel you fitted up against him like a perfect puzzle piece.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
You yawn again, bigger this time and more insistent. The edges of your vision grows darker, sleep claiming you sooner than you thought. "Thanks," you manage to say just before you begin to drift off. "Love you."
He hums, rubbing a hand over your back, soothing you further as your breaths even out.
"Of course," he says quietly. Softly. "I love you too. Sleep well, dearest."
[ — Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Ayato, Diluc, Cyno, Kaveh, Albedo, Zhongli ]
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pyramid-of-starrs · 6 months
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Drunk intimacy W/ Ateez
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This is what I imagine drunk "encounters" with each member would be like, just to clarify I mean drunk and consenting not sloppy wasted, so more so tipsy lol Enjoy.
Warning: Drunk sex, Oral sex (M and F recieving), semi public fingering, cockwarming, may be other stuff lemme know!
Minors dni
Hongjoong:
You and Hongjoong would be leaving the bar from a night of hanging out and drinking with everyone, you both would get in the car and drive to a secluded spot and he would park and you both would push your seats back as far as they could go, then Hongjoong would lift the armrest. No words would be spoken, they didn't have to be said, you would both look at each other and without a word start a very intimate and sloppy make out session. You're all over him like he likes it because when you both have some liquor in your system you joke that he becomes your little slut lol. Teeth scraping, tongues in and out of each other’s mouths, eyes rolled back and lots of lip sucking and biting, the noises alone from the kissing would be considered pornographic. Hongjoong has his hand firmly planted on your ass after he lifted your skin tight dress up to your waist, one of your hands made it inside his baggy pants after you undid his belt, you started to jack him off right there in the front seat. Hongjoong was trying his best to continue kissing you but your grip on his very sensitive dick was making him dizzy, he would stop the kiss to occasionally let out a whimper or a "fuck". His red and flushed face with how needy and fucked out he look was making you crazy, you loved how submissive and horny he got, you decided it was time to make him feel even better. You and him worked together to shimmy his pants down enough for his red and throbbing cock to spring out, you loved teasing and edging him when he was like this, you reached down still pumping his shaft, you stuck your tongue out to make circles on his tip.
"Fuuuck Y/N" Hongjoong said dropping his head onto the headrest, his hand still gripping your ass.
You kissed his tip a few times, "I know it feels so good doesn't it baby?" you said wanting to tease him, your mouth dove down his shaft, bobbing your head up and down, Hongjoong bit his bottom lip as he hissed, his whimpering of pleasure was music to your ears.
"So fuckin' good baby, 'o good." He managed to say between his moaning, your tongue and mouth never stopped, sucking harder while your saliva traveled down his dick and covering his balls, it was a bit sloppy, but he loved it. His hand occasionally leaving your ass to land smacks on it to tell you you were doing a good job.
"Baby, baby I'm g-gonna cum." He stuttered out.
You started to suck him off faster, making sure to make his dick hit the back of your throat, you held him deep in your mouth while his cum shot into your mouth, loud profanities dropped from his lips while he moaned loudly, fuck you loved when he was vocal. You didn't waste a drop and swallowed his entire load making sure to look into his eyes.
"Fuck baby I love you so much." Hongjoong said, you came up not even being able to wipe your mouth before Hongjoong pressed his lips to yours, sloppy kisses being exchanged once again.
"I'm going to fuck your brains out when we get home." He said smiling on your lips and looking into your eyes
You pecked his lips again and looked back at him. "I told you you couldn't handle that last shot."
Seonghwa:
"H-ey we aren't go-gonna make it s-sorry." You said barely being able to get out your sentence while you were on the phone with your friend canceling your group couples hangout.
"Aww whyyy? Hongjoong is going to be pissed he isn't going to have his uno partner Seonghwa here." Hongjoongs girlfriend said over the phone.
"I knoo~ we pregramed tooo~ hard and Hwa is out of it." you said immediately snatching the phone from your ear and putting it on speaker to finish the conversation. Hongjoongs girlfriend went on about all the things they had planned tonight but you couldn't focus anymore. Seonghwa was the reason for that, he had his back against the arm of the couch and his long legs across the couch with you on top of him, your back against his chest, he had both your breast pulled out of your tube top with one of his hands tweaking your nipples. His other hand was busy slowly playing with your clit, he knows you want him to go faster, he knows it you wanted nothing more but for him to fuck you but he told you it wasn't a good idea to have those drinks before going out, he told you it would just make you both horny but you didn't care. You thought you could just tease Seonghwa all night for being drunk and horny, but he wasn't letting that happen. He left trails of wet kisses and licks from his long tongue on your neck while you tried fighting off your moans, only letting breathy small ones escape.
"Anyways Y/N girl these guys are driving me crazy I would have loved for you to be here to! You sure you can't at least come?" She said obviously pouting. Seonghwa drug his tongue up to your ear.
"Mm gonna leave me baby? Gonna leave me after making me all hot and bothered?" he said rubbing your clit faster.
"Ooouuu FUCK- oh my g- fuck no, I'm sorry girl I can't he's already making a mess right now." You said still trying to keep a clear mind, you had to bite both your lips.
" 'sure am, making a mess of this wet little pussy." He said in your ear, he put one of his slick covered fingers into your cunt, you gripped his pant leg and threw your head back while you whined between your closed lips. You needed and wanted more but he wanted to edge and tease you, he would leave open mouth kisses on your cheek until he made his way to your mouth to give you a wet french kiss, you could taste the juice and alcohol on his tongue, sweet and bitter citrus, he took the breath out of your lungs, your ears ringing from pleasure, no longer able to even hear your conversation, he removed his hand from your chest and gripped your face so you two could look at each other.
"Hang up and bend over."
Yunho:
One too many bottles of Soju and all Yunho wants to do is eat you out. You both were just casually drinking and one think led to another and next thing you know your shorts and panties were off, you were sitting in the cute recliner you bought for the bed room, your legs were being pinned up but Yunhos large hands and he was face planted in your cunt. It had been an hour or so, at least you assume it has, you were drunk and on the way to your 3rd orgasm, Yunho just wouldn't let up. He just loved the feeling of eating you out, but it was something so satisfying to do it while you both had some drinks. He loved your dramatic gasping and jolts, the way your pussy got wetter and how hard you would grip his hair while you begged and spasmed. He couldn't only use his tongue, no he had to put his entire face in it, he wasn't a man that was afraid to get his face covered in the line of duty, he wanted you to drench him. He loved to sweet taste of your cunt as well, since you were drunk you were more sensitive, and it was easy to make you really wet. He would occasionally glance up at you to see your eyes rolled back and your mouth wide open, hearing you yell his name or say things like "fuck Yunho, I can't take it." just encouraged him to fuck you with his mouth more. He knew to make you extra crazy he would put on of your legs on the arm of the chair or let you hold it up while he fucked two of his long finger into you while he sucked your clit like a lollipop. You would gasp for him to stop while your thighs would try to close and you try pushing his head away but he's stronger than you, he wouldn't let you run, you had to sit there and fucking take it. You would covered his face in your slick once again, you were out of breath and fucked out, he would get up and go to the bathroom to wash his face and come back with the warmest smile.
"Well now that I've ate you wanna order some food?"
Yeosang:
Everyone was at Hongjoong, Jongho and Wooyoungs apartment, drinking eating, playing games and now singing drunk karaoke, everyone was either passed out or singing. You and Yeo on the other hand, well you two were sitting at the table watching everyone while he plunged his two fingers deep into your wet pussy, it was something about all the liquor in your system that made you want your boyfriend more and more. He originally was sitting at the table alone but as the night progressed and you got drunker you started to watch his arms flexing in his in short sleeve and it was something so sexy about how well he could handle his liquor. You got up to sit next to him nuzzling nice and close, then the closer you would get the more you smelled his cologne and watching his face and just the sight of him was enough to make your leg bounce to create some kind of friction to help soothe the burning between your legs, you hug his arm while you tried to calm yourself but breathy noises escaped your lips.
"You okay Y/N?" he would ask
"Need you...so bad Yeo." would be the only thing you could say, he understood what needed to be done, when you're this needy you needed immediate attention, so he got to work.
Now here you were with his fingers nice and deep in you, he would make the "Come here" motion so he could hit your spot occasionally, he didn't want you to get to loud but luckily the music and over all commotion drowned out your whimpering. It was a horrible time to do this but the thought of everyone seeing you so fucked out and needy for him kind of turned him on, so he has no problem helping his baby out. Though he himself isn't a lightweight when it came to drinking since he mastered the skill of not acting drunk while drunk, he couldn't deny that drinking did make him a bit hornier, especially after losing all those games and having to take straight shots with no chaser. You squeezed his arm tighter, closed your eyes and bit your lip, all signs that you were close to your high, Yeosang sped up his pace, it was dangerous since the table shook but honestly, he only cared about making you cum for him. You saw stars as you finished on his two digits, he pulled them from your jeans and into his mouth so he could taste your slick, you dropped your head on his shoulders and rolled your eyes back while the group called you and Yeosang up to pick the next song.
San:
Poor Sannie just can't handle his liquor, you two get home from hanging out and San would just strip naked and get under the covers then whine until you finally came in the bed room to shut the lights off and get in bed with him.
"Mmm baby, too hot, no clothes." San groaned while tugging at your clothes, you rolled your eyes and took off your pajamas to accommodate San. He cuddled you closely, nuzzling his face into your neck and squeezing your waist, though you wanted to go to sleep you couldn't help but feel something on your ass.
"Sannie... are you?"
"Just ignore it baby." he said, but with Sans length how could you possibly ignore something like that pressing into you.
"Do you want to have sex baby?" You asked, it's not like you could sleep, it felt like you were laying on water since you were still pretty tipsy.
"Don't feel like it." He mumbled out.
"Wanna cockwarm then?" you asked, trying to help him relieve his throbbing dick.
"...only if you don't mind." He said, he didn't want you to feel pressured, you nodded your head to give him the approval, he lined himself up with your entrance and was able to easily slide in since you were still wet from when he pulled you to the bathroom to fuck you while you were out. "Fuck baby you're so tight you feel so good." he said squeezing you tighter, he couldn't help but roll his hips a few times just to enjoy your heat.
"Does that feel better Sannie, you just wanted me to hold your dick baby." you said reaching back to scratch his scalp.
"You're too good to me baby." He said, he kissed your lips a few times then snuggled back into you, you two eventually drifted off to sleep just for him to wake up early that morning to fuck you senseless.
Mingi:
He decided to come home to your apartment instead of going home because he didn't want anyone seeing how affectionate he is when he is drunk, just a big cuddly baby. He would hold you while you're unlocking the door and kiss you when you're changing then when he can't take it anymore, he would pull you into his lap while he is seated on the bed. He wouldn't even change your clothes he would just pull your sleeping shorts to the side and take out his length while you two were kissing and ease you down his dick. Drunk sex with Mingi is nice and slow and sensual, it's not about cumming it's about feeling you wrapped around him, it's about him touching every inch of your body with his hands and lips, Mingi is a drunk love maker. You would rock slowly on his length while cupping his face and continuing to make out, his large hands wrapped around your waist squeezing you tightly so you couldn't move or run.
"I love you so much baby." he would whisper between kisses.
"I love you more Mingi." you would say back, giving him reassurance that you feel loved, and you love him just as much, he is a Leo, so he needs it.
His phone would ring, calls from the guys to make sure you two made it home safely, every time you advised him to answer he would say "You're the only person I care about right now." While he continued to roll his hips deeper into you.
After a while of slow sex, you were about to cum, and he notices that, he rubbed your back and kissed you deeply while you cover his cock in your juices. He knows you get sleepy so he stops and cleans you both up then puts you both to bed, you would tell him to keep going so he could cum to but again he wasn't doing it for a release he just wants to feel you.
Wooyoung:
As soon as you walk through the door together he is trying to bend you over and fuck your brains out, you were in the middle of taking your shoes off (literally one is off one is on) and he is pressing you against the wall lifting up your skirt while kissing your neck.
"Wait Woo we should mm" he cuts you off by kissing you, you wouldn't even be able to talk in complete sentences. "We should-" kiss "at least go t-" kiss "to the be-" kiss "the bed Woo let's" kiss.
"I need to fuck you right now, right here, this has been on my mind all night." would be the last thing he says before he gets on one knee to eat you out from the back, your hand reaching back to grip his black hair while your eyes roll back and your mouth is gasping.
"Oh, my fucking god it feels amazing Woo fuck!" When you and Wooyoung get drunk the dirty talk is amazing, it's truly part of the experience.
"Such a dirty little mouth for a dirty little slut, watch your fucking mouth." He says before striking your ass.
"Ow! Fuck you!" you say before he strikes you again then rises from eating you out.
"Oh, fuck me ?" He says while yanking you to face him and pressing you against the wall.
"Yes, fuck you!" you argue back while he pulls your skirt down and lifts your leg to hold it at his waist, his member already pulled out since he was jerking off while eating you out.
"Oh really?" he got closer to your face, your lips seconds from connecting.
"Yes really."
"Say it again." He says as he sinks himself into your pussy, you bit your lips while your head drops back on the wall.
"Nghh fuck!" You say, he starts to fuck you faster, pulling your leg so he can hit nice and deep in you.
"That's not what you said, say what you said again baby." Wooyoung would say to taunt you, he knew you were too fucked out to even think, liquor makes him a horny little meanie. He would sit there and fuck you in the doorway then when he finished he would have you suck his dick in the hall way to "Clean up the mess you made on his cock", then he would fuck you again on the bed to "make sure you dream of him."
Jongho:
He is like a well-oiled machine, both just came back from a company dinner and all he wants to do is keep fucking you and fucking you and fucking you. His hips never stop pounding into you and when you would slump over he would laugh at you with that toothy smile and say "Aww are you really tired already, did I go too far?" he tried to make it seem like he was being genuine and checking on you but you knew he wasn't, he was mocking you and you were a prideful drunk so you two would be going until one of you tapped out.
He would drill you from the back in collapsed doggy because your legs just couldn't hold you anymore, the loud clapping noises filling the room while his hands tightly gripped your hips so you couldn't run, you had to take his thrust full on. You could barely even think anymore, your swollen pussy and fucked out brain was no match for Jongho. Usually, his libido isn't that high, and sex was good but after cumming twice he would be tapped but when he is drunk all bets are off, he has the stamina of a race horse and fucked like one too. He would love just watching you try your best to keep up with him, he got a good laugh out of how surprised you would get every time. He knew your body would be tired so he used his strength to flip, bend and twist you in any way he wanted, you became his little fuck toy and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't the sexiest thing in the world, though he would be demolishing your pussy he always checked on you and made sure you drank water throughout the process, you're favorite part was the praise he gives you for not tapping out.
"My good little baby, taking me so well, aren't you?" he would ask, your invisible dog tail would wag while you arched your back to take more of him. Though you wouldn't tap out he knew not to push you too much and you eventually clean you both up and cuddle into bed while you talked shit.
"See I told you you would tap first!" you would taunt.
"Mhm you sure did, I can't keep up with you Y/N" he would patronize you.
"Nope! Now to enjoy my victory cuddles and sleep."
He cuddles into you and kisses your forehead. "Good night, Y/N"
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ssahotchnerr · 6 months
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I had a dream about this scenario last night and I don’t think I’ve seen anything like this. Aaron’s fiancé is currently in law school but she mostly has done everything online. Recently she’s had to start attending classes and her teacher has been making her extremely uncomfortable. He got access to her phone number and texts her all hours of the night. Leaves notes on her assignments asking her to dinner etc. she doesn’t want to worry Aaron cause he has so much on his plate anyway so she ask Morgan to go have a talk with the teacher to scare him off. But it turns into more of an obsession and Aaron has to get involved.
holy shit you literally had a full on movie going on in that dream and it's literal perfection cw; creepy guy yuck
it starts out with lingering stares. the prof's gaze would remain on you far too long, even after you finished speaking if you were to talk aloud, and another student was adding their input. you brush it off, tell yourself you're probably overreacting, but without fail, there's always that sickening feeling pooling in your stomach.
at first, you're seated in the front - you've always been that kind of student - better access to the board, quick to ask questions, etc., just very involved in class. but as you're seated in the front, you catch him staring at your legs, he moves closer to you during the lecture, not so subtly glancing at your chest, calls on you even if your hand isn't raised.
the more uncomfortable you get, you talk less, rarely participate, you choose to sit in the back, and that's when he starts leaving notes on your assignments - telling you how attractive you are, how you're the most extraordinary student he's had, asking you to coffee or dinner. you try your hardest to ignore it, telling yourself you just need to get through the semester. you even went to your academic advisor to see if you could potentially drop the class, but it's a needed credit. and at this point, you're already a bit into the semester, so you might as well finish it off. not only is it all incredibly disgusting, it's disheartening too. you were so looking forward to attending in-person classes after being strictly online, and now you wish you would've stuck to that.
aaron, of course, is quick to notice a change too. you don't talk about the class over dinner like you used to, ask for his expertise when it comes to difficult assignments. you're quick to change the subject if it's brought up - you honestly avoid the topic altogether. aaron knows something's going on, he provides his support in different ways to show he's there for you - making you your coffee in the morning, packing you a lunch, leaving a note with it. (omg imagine the professor finding aaron's note to you - it accidentally slipped out of your bag and he's just outraged 🫢)
when you go to morgan, shock and disgust covers his face and he starts rattling off questions - how long has this been going on, have you reported him, have you told aaron?!?!?!!? and when you tell him no, tears are just rolling down your cheeks - and it's actually the first you've cried over this whole situation, you've been holding up a strong front until now. :(( derek pulls you into a tight hug, tells you he'll do what he can, and also strongly encourages you to tell aaron. he's all, "he's your man, he'll want to know" 🥺
and ohhh when aaron finds out - furious is an understatement. you tell him the whole story from the beginning, you show him the notes that the prof has left you, and he's immediately in protective mode. and despite how upset he is, he's still so gentle and he feels so bad you've been going through this, alone at that :(((( his voice is all soft as he brushes your tears away, "sweetheart 🥺 you could've told me" and pulls you safely into his arms. you explain how you figured you'd just suck it up, didn't want to bother him, and aaron just gently shushes you, tells you okay, he understands, but please never hesitate to come to him if there's something going on :(
aaron then tells you that he's going to put a stop to this, he'll make sure of it. he calls the school, sends a Very Scary and Very FBI letter. and that prof gets fired yay!!!! and actaully, he does have a criminal record of stalking and being a creep. but with that new free time 🫢 that only means he has more time to look into you ...
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avatar-anna · 6 months
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When You Fall In Love...
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so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood
part one, part two, bonus, bonus
Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.
Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.
But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.
Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.
"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.
"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.
Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.
"I'm fine."
She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."
Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.
He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.
But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.
"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.
"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.
Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.
Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."
"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."
Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.
So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
*.*
"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"
Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.
Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.
Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.
She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.
And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.
His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.
Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.
It was love at first sight.
Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.
He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.
They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.
So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.
Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.
Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.
To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.
"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"
"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.
When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.
That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.
*.*
"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"
"I am! God, Harry, I am."
"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."
"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.
Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"
"No!
"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"
"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"
You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.
"Y/n—"
"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."
You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.
At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.
Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.
"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.
"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"
It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.
You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.
"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.
Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.
You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.
"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."
You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."
"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"
"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."
You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.
Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."
You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.
"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."
"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.
It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.
"Oh."
"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."
"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"
"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."
"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."
You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"
"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."
"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"
"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.
Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.
"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."
Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"
"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.
Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."
"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."
"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."
Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."
"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."
"Shut up."
"Make me!"
And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.
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rafeysdoll · 24 days
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what arguing with rafe cameron is like.. ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
authors note: request found here, i actually wrote this awhile ago and thought it was perfect for this!
warnings: established relationship
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“rafe!” you whine, the tears collecting in your lashline. “are you even listening to me?” you yell out, stomping your foot against the floor when he just rolls his eyes, he was hardly paying attention which only ceased to upset you more. you think to yourself, ‘who could blame you?’ he was just so mean. it was too much for your brain as well as to your sensitive heart.
“what do you want me to say? huh?” he grumbles, he's trying to control himself from just up and leaving back to the party downstairs in tannyhill, he really is. he thought the whole thing was ridiculous. you, throwing a tantrum at him because some girl was in your eyes, way too touchy when he was pushing product, saying she didn’t have to touch his hand for the little baggie as long as she did.
but to you it was so much more than two extra seconds. you saw how she always giggled in a corner with her friends when he was around, liking every single post on his instagram expect for the ones with you in them, even commenting little things in most. always lowering her top and pushing up her tits before applying a new coat of lipstick when she was heading his way.
but to him, rafe had decided long ago you were the one for him. you were the one that he was going to take care of, the one he was going to love and pump full of cameron babies so that one day you could be his little housewife.
so, what was the big deal?
“can't just.. can't just freak out on me like that, alright? got business shit to take care of and you cannot be latching onto me just because you think some.. some coked up chick is gonna make a move, okay?” he stresses, walking closer to you now.
when you let out a small whimper in response, he freezes just a little, seeing you let your head fall as you look down at your heels, feeling stuck in what to reply because really — you didn't want to argue with him. you hated it more than anything. you wanted to be good for him, you just hated seeing the sight of some random girl cuddling up to him.
rafe sucks in a deep breath and sighs, biting his lip. he wasn't going to continue trying to sweep this under the rug, downplaying it when it was clear that this was important to you. so, he clenches his fist and tongues at his cheek, and starts nodding to himself. “yeah.. uh. yeah, alright- okay. fine.” he admits, thinking to himself too how he would react if some dude was creeping up in his girls space.
“just want you to understand me rafe," you say softly. the tears that collected in your eyes now freely falling. "i know, i know.. i'm sorry okay? i understand baby.. i do.” he coos, walking closer and sitting you down at the edge of his bed, squatting in front of you.
“hey, hey look at me.” he says while moving his left hand to your cheek, stroking it softly— one of your favorite things rafe did. “im.. i'm sorry, baby. i'm sorry. should've been more.. nice to you.”
you sniffle, leaning your head into his cheek. “oh rafey.. was just.. was just so upset and i took it out on you.. i'm sorry papi, .. am i.. am i bad?” you mewl, mascara dripping down your face. your emotions were really catching up to you. it was all mushing up together, making you feel all overwhelmed.
“no, no baby, you're good. you're good, doll. just take in a few breathes alright? you're fine..” rafe whispers, wiping your tears and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “say it with me doll.. can you do that for me baby?” he speaks softly, smiling at you.
“i'm good. i'm good,” you whisper back, nodding. “there you go baby, just relaxx, doll.” he prompts, dragging out the x's. “we're fine, alright? no chick is gonna steal me away from you, 'kay?” he speaks while pulling strands of your hair behind your ear. “i'll finish up selling and you can cling on my arm ‘till im done. alright, baby?”
“mm, mhm” you mumble with a cheeky smile.
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flashbangstars · 1 month
Text
Never a Martyr - L.J.N
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Pairing: Jeno x Fem reader MDNI 18+ wc: 1.2k+.
Summary: you are a doctor working at the facility they are holding him assigned to watch over his healing. until it becomes evident he is not the villain they've painted him to be, and to him, you aren't the martyr he thought you to be.
Genre: smut, hurt/comfort, angst,
Warnings: Jeno's lowkey a dick in the beginning, getting hot and heavy in a prison cell, making out, thigh riding, swearing, and mentions of injuries.
Author's note: I seriously got this idea as I was looking at Jeno's Instagram post and wrote it in 40 minutes because I didn't want to lose the idea. I know I just wrote something for him, but this is a nice little extra with a little more spicier stuff than I had anticipated. I hope you like it and have been liking the new album, I'm currently obsessed with icantfeelanything and did listen to it like 40 times while writing this.
He nodded in acknowledgment and let the shirt fall from his shoulders. Pale skin fills your view, littered with bruises and scrapes. Pinks and purples dusting areas like watercolor. You felt your chest tighten at the sight. Your hands moved forward and tugged lightly at the wide bandage wrapped around his chest and shoulder. Gently unraveling it to reveal even worse damage.
The old bandages in your hands, dangling. Hands frozen just staring at the expanse of his back afraid of what had become of him. Breaking, your hands crumpled the bandages into a ball trying to take the anger out on them, turning swiftly and walking towards the garbage can. Watching the abused wad of bandages drop in your feet stuck in front of the small metal can trying to collect your thoughts.  Staring at your hands, the white gloves, the sting of the smell of antiseptic, your stomach churned and you felt your throat tighten.
The old bandages in your hands, dangling. Hands frozen just staring at the expanse of his back afraid of what had become of him. Breaking, your hands crumpled the bandages into a ball trying to take the anger out on them, turning swiftly and walking towards the garbage can. Watching the abused wad of bandages drop in your feet stuck in front of the small metal can trying to collect your thoughts.  Staring at your hands, the white gloves, the sting of the smell of antiseptic, your stomach churned and you felt your throat tighten.
Why had they done this to him?
Turning back around he had already been facing you. His features now hint at the beginning of an emotion. Walking forward, you dug your hand into your pocket and pulled out a white roll of new bandages. Tearing it from the package, your movements jagged, unable to completely tear the packaging feeling frustration creep up. 
A pale hand grabs the roll in your hands, grasping it and taking it. Looking up at him now focused on the bandages that should still be in your ownership. Tearing the package with a steady hand and then giving it back to you. 
“Thank you.” Your voice coming out quieter than expected. 
Beginning to wrap the bandage across his chest you dragged your fingers down the expanse of hard muscle making sure it laid flat on his skin. Feeling the light beat of his heart under your fingertips. Turning him around and securing it on his back. Finishing covering the wounds
Pressing your hand flat against the loose end to adhere it. You let your hand linger on his skin as if you were trying to take some of his anguish from him. Trying to provide some sort of reminder of care and human touch. 
“I’m so sorry” you muttered, sounding like a pin dropping in the silent room. 
“Why do you care” he finally spoke, his voice flat. 
Why did you care? Your brows furrowed searching for a reason, trying to rationalize all the things you were feeling at the moment.
“They do not care what happens to us, so why do you care what happens to me” he questioned, turned around now he angled his glare to meet your line of vision, dipping his head down. 
“This-this isn’t fair” your voice faltered. His gaze sharped and he lunged forward grabbing your wrist, your back hitting the cement wall behind you. Caging you in against the wall his face now a mere couple of inches from yours. You knew he knew what the repercussions of something like this would be. 
“Your guilty conscious is not on me, go home cry, and get the fuck over it, you are not allowed to be a martyr in this story” he spat through gritted teeth. 
His glare burned into you and your stomach twisted even more, a mix of anger and confusion overcame you. 
“You’re scared and hurt and you’re taking It out on me. If this is what you need to do to make yourself feel better go ahead and knock yourself out” you hissed. 
His eyes widened a fraction as if not expecting the push back and his grip on your wrist loosened. His face softened and a look of defeat now painted his features. Dropping his head to your shoulder, his hand released your wrist and slid down to your hand. Intertwining your hands slowly, allowing you an out at any time but also asking permission if he could. His breathing ragged in the silence as you felt his facade slowly fall. 
“Do you really care about me?”  He murmured. Voice small and afraid. 
“Yes,” you affirmed placing your arm around his neck and hugging him with your free hands, bringing the rest of him close to you, the thought of how he probably hadn’t felt care or human affection in months or years was swimming around in your conscious. Your eyes glued to the window of the door making sure no one saw what you were doing. Now this was a two-person crime, you were risking your job and well.. your freedom by engaging with him. But it was worth it.
Reciprocating, his hands snaked around your body clutching you by the waist and shoulder, holding you as if he was testing if this was really real. Pulling you closer you felt his lips ghost against your neck on the skin exposed, and then press against it. The hand that was on your shoulder now cradling the back of your head. Fingering threading into your hair and disrupting the perfect order in which you had it in before entering his room. 
Your breathing quickened and your chest heaved. Sensing the reaction he slowly pushed his knee between your legs widening your stance. now impossibly closer to each other. He was trying to consume you. 
Your dress shoved up your legs and his thigh dangerously close to where you desperately needed relief. His kisses on your neck had turned hungry leaving small bite marks in his wake his hands moving you to give him more access to your untouched skin. You had been scared to touch him as if you would break him, but he had no issues handling you as if you were his only. 
Your eyes rolled back into your head and opened again to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, leveling your gaze back to the hallway reminding you of the reality of things outside of you being pushed up against this wall. His hand now felt for where he could access what was underneath the dress you were wearing.  Succeeding as he slides the fabric up your waist. Pushing your underwear aside and finding what he was after. Beginning to move your hips back and forth on his clothed thigh a wet spot forming on the crisp navy pants he had been wearing. Watching, his eyes now sparked with anticipation and hunger as you became undone even more at his hands. A vast difference from the tight-lipped doctor who had walked in 30 minutes ago.
Your hands now exploring him as if he were yours, touching and feeling with the intention of keeping and taking. Angling your head you traced your lips on the shell of his ear and whispered with each movement of your hips rocking against him,
“We”
Up
“Will”
Down
“g-get”
Up
“Your”
Down
“Wings”
Up 
“Back.”
---
thank you for reading <3
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edenesth · 9 days
Text
[2:36 PM]
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"Holy crap, I'm stuffed! I feel like I've eaten enough to last a week," you exclaimed, embracing your bloated belly in amazement as you glanced at Seonghwa, who was still happily devouring his meal. You'd been indulging at the all-you-can-eat buffet for hours, yet he showed no signs of slowing down. "Thank god one of us has a black hole for a stomach; I swear, Hwa, you make every buffet meal so worth it."
Your boyfriend chuckled, "You say that now, but I bet you'll be craving convenience store snacks by tonight like always," he teased, feeling a rush of affection for you as you stuck your tongue out playfully.
It was your fourth anniversary together, and he had let you choose the venue for your date. You opted for the Japanese buffet near your shared apartment, knowing it would make him happy. And it did; he was over the moon, utterly in love with you for your thoughtfulness. So much so that he could propose to you on the spot. In fact, he had a ring ready and was eagerly planning to seize this perfect moment to pop the question.
As he finished his bowl of ramen, his heart warmed at your immediate response—reaching over to delicately wipe the corner of his lips with your napkin. You smiled, asking, "Was it good?"
He nodded, holding your hand and planting a kiss on your wrist after you finished cleaning his mouth. "Everything tastes better with you around, my love. Now, be a good girl and wait here while I go get us some desserts."
You giggled before exclaiming, "Ooh yes, I want to come with you!" as you began to rise from your seat. But he panicked and stopped you, "N-no, please, let me take care of you today. I'll be back real quick, I promise," he said before darting out of the private room you had reserved. He had plans to hide the ring in one of the cakes for you to discover later, and if you were to go with him now, he wouldn't be able to execute his plan.
With a satisfied hum, he admired how perfectly he had hidden the ring in one of your favourite cakes. Oh, he couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you realised what was inside. Walking back to the room, his heart raced and his mind swirled with all the possible romantic outcomes of this surprise. If all went well, you'd be his fiancée by the end of this meal.
It's going to be perfect.
"Yay, you got all my favourites! Thank you, Hwa, you're the best," you cooed, pulling him down by the collar to give him a chaste kiss on the lips before allowing him to return to his seat across from you.
He grinned, biting his lip excitedly as he watched you begin to eat, "Anything for you," he murmured. His attention was momentarily diverted when his phone chimed with a few texts from his friends in their group chat. He clicked open to find a couple of silly memes, offering a quick 'Haha' reaction before returning his focus to you.
"Hwa, say ahhh," you said, holding out some cake to feed him. Absentmindedly, he looked up from his phone and accepted the bite. "Thanks, babe. You enjoy it, I'll get more later," he said, his words slightly muffled as he spoke with cake in his mouth.
Wait a minute, I—
His eyes widened in horror as he realised the ring was in his mouth. He was dangerously close to swallowing it when he attempted to push it back out, causing him to choke violently and startling you in the process.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" you rushed over to his side immediately, lightly slapping him on the back. Your concern intensified as his body shook. "Cough it out, Hwa!"
And he did, eventually spitting out remnants of the cake onto his trembling hand. In the midst of the mess lay a shiny object. You didn't know what it was, but one thing was certain: it clearly was not meant to be in a cake. "Wh-what's that? Why would they put something like that inside a cake? Are they trying to harm someone? This is unacceptable; I'm going to file a complaint."
"N-no, babe!" he called out, gently grasping your wrist and pulling you close before you could scold anyone for his own mistake.
"But Hwa, you could have died—"
He sighed, "It was me, I put it in there." He grabbed a few new napkins and cleaned up the mess in his hands, and your eyes rounded, your breath catching when you recognised what was in his hand. It was a ring you had once jokingly shown him, telling him how pretty it was and that you would love it if he could propose to you with it. You didn't think he would actually do it.
"God, this went way differently in my mind. You were supposed to discover it on your own; it was supposed to be so romantic, and I ruined it all because I'm an idiot—"
You silenced him with a kiss, pressing your lips to his and cradling his face while you caressed his cheeks, tears tracing down your own. Pulling back slowly, you rested your forehead against his with a soft chuckle.
"Well, I think it's rather romantic."
"I swear, I'll redo it properly—wait, really?"
"Mhm. Oh and, yes, I do."
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ATEEZ Masterlist
Look what you made me do, @itstheghostofmypast😭 this was a little something my pookie and I came up with while we were talking hehe ilysm istg pls never stop feeding me these ideas.
Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3
General ATEEZ Tag list:
@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |
@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |
@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |
@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |
@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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les4elliewilliams · 1 month
Text
With all my heart.
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¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!
cw/wc: 10.9k (ik wtf) not proofread ; smut, fingering both r/e!receiving, oral (r!receiving), swearing, fluff, reader has a heart condition. jackson ellie x fem reader (💘)
a/n: I'm not really sure how I feel about this, lol (especially the smut part). I tried to do a lot of research about this type of heart issue to make it as accurate as possible, so if it's not, I'm sorry, I tried. ib one of those romantic movies where one of the characters is sick and has some rare condition (except that no one dies.)
also can we start romanticizing unconditional love and healthy relationships?
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You knew you had won the lottery the moment you accidentally bumped into her in the hospital.
Your life has been full of challenges right from the beginning. You were born with a condition that affected your heartbeats, making it difficult for your heart to function normally. So you had to rely on a pacemaker to regulate your heartbeat. This condition has significantly impacted your life, making it hard for you to engage in activities that require physical exertion.
Long QT Syndrome, or LQTS, is a rare genetic condition that can mess up your heart's electrical system. It can cause your heartbeats to go wild, making you faint, have seizures, or even go into sudden cardiac arrest. To keep yourself safe, you needed to take your meds, live a certain way, and have a pacemaker — which you had implanted.
Living a normal life had always been tough for you, and it wasn't only the syndrome's physical symptoms that held you back, but also your parents' protectiveness. They worried a lot about your health, maybe a bit too much, leaving you with very little freedom to do anything. Even simple things like going to a party or hanging out with friends like a regular teenager seemed like a luxury you could never have. Although you understood that your parents were only trying to protect you, their overprotectiveness always made you feel suffocated and cut off from the world. You always felt like an alien who had just been dropped off on Earth; you knew nothing about anything. You've always had to rely on the stories and experiences of people around you, like your friends, to help you figure things out and feel like you had lived a little.
You have been homeschooled ever since you were a little kid. You didn't have many opportunities to participate in social activities and make friends. However, you did manage to meet two people who have remained your only friends to this day. You met them in the park when you were a kid, and to your luck, they stuck around. You often wonder if they stayed with you out of pity or because they genuinely liked spending time with you, but you were glad regardless; it was good to have someone to hang out with.
The memory of the day you met Ellie is still as vivid in your mind as it was when it happened. You had just finished your routine checkup at the hospital and were feeling a bit peckish. You made your way to the vending machine to grab a snack, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness sweep over you. You hoped a quick snack would help, but fate seemed to have other plans in store for you that day. As you selected your snack, you watched in frustration as it got stuck in the vending machine. You tried everything you could to retrieve it, but it refused to budge. Just as you were about to give up, she appeared.
"Can I hel-" she started, but you were already turning around to leave, and just as you turned around to leave, you accidentally collided with her, causing your chest to hit hers. The impact triggered your pacemaker, causing it to beep loudly and incessantly. "Shit — I'm so sorry" she said as she gently grabbed your arm to steady you. "Oh my god, I'm sorry" you said simultaneously. The sound reverberated through the hospital walls, and your face heated up with embarrassment. You had never experienced anything like this before, not even when you bumped into walls at home.
The auburnette looked at you puzzled and asked, "Why're you beeping? Are you okay?" Worried green eyes scanning you, she was clearly taken aback by the unexpected beeping sound and she couldn't understand where it was coming from. You couldn't help but feel drawn to her despite the awkward introduction, she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.
Little did you know that this chance encounter would lead to a series of life-changing events.
You remember sitting in the seating area of the hospital, munching on a snack that she had generously gotten for you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this girl's kindness. She was so funny and kind, cracking dumb puns every now and then. You admired how perfect and flawless she looked and to this day, she still tells you how mesmerized she was by you when she saw you for the first time. You both chatted away about everything and nothing, you noticed that she had a backpack with her. Being the curious person you are, you couldn't resist the urge to ask her what she was studying. She seemed delighted by your interest and started talking passionately about her field of study — art. The more she talked, the more intrigued you were. When your conversation came to an end, she mustered up the courage to ask for your number, a clear indication that she wanted to see you again; it took you by surprise but you happily obliged. Something about you captivated her attention, although you couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.
You never thought that you would have the chance to become friends with her, let alone her best friend. But somehow, again, fate had other plans for you. Your friendship with her started slowly but surely. She always asked you to hang out, and you couldn't help but say yes. She was so fun to be around, and it was impossible not to enjoy her company. She would come to your place and take you on small adventures, always promising to show you something new and exciting. This was especially important to you, as you had shared that your teenage years were quite dull and you didn't venture out of your house much. She always respected your limits, knowing that you had to be cautious with your heart condition. When she started staying at your place, you were surprised at how well she fit in with your family and friends. Your parents loved her and your friends thought she was great too. She was always taking care of you without being overbearing or suffocating. Her kindness and thoughtfulness made you feel valued and appreciated, and you couldn't help but fall for her. How could you not after all? She was perfect.
You shared every aspect of your life with her, and she reciprocated. You both had a shared love for reading, although she preferred a completely different genre from yours. She forced you to read her favorite Savage Starlight comics, and even though they weren't your cup of tea, you still enjoyed spending time with her while reading them, mostly because of how cute she sounded when she read every line out loud, effortlessly switching tones to match the different characters' voices and even adding sound effects to accentuate the narrative. She would often stay the night at your place and binge-read them with you. She loved to talk about her passions for space, dinosaurs, science, and art. She even showed you her drawings and journal, claiming she had never shown them to anyone. She even made a few drawings for you; it was adorable and impressive how she managed to capture every little detail of your face and put it on a piece of paper, she was a talented one. And, of course, you did the same with her — sharing your favorite comics/books with her, even convincing her to watch movies that she always claimed she hated. After watching them with you, she realized they weren't so bad after all. Not that she actually paid attention to the movie, her eyes solely focused on you.
Soon enough she was introducing you to her closest friends. She was convinced that you would love them, and she was totally right. One of her friends, Dina, was so much fun to be around, always full of energy and cracking jokes, she had a smile that could light up the whole room. Jesse, Dina's boyfriend, was just as funny as her, but he was a bit more serious and responsible than the rest of them. He always looked out for Dina and Ellie, but they never listened to him, which resulted in some pretty hilarious situations. The group had a really cool dynamic, and you loved how they made you feel welcome right from the start.
Your first kiss was a moment you could never forget, etched deeply into your memory. You both were deeply in love with each other, and it was evident in the way you looked at each other. Your glances filled with unspoken feelings and palpable tension that drove you crazy, hoping that you weren't the only one feeling that way. And then the moment finally arrived. You remember it was a hot summer day, and the air in your room was stifling despite the fan pointed at your face. You had a few strands of hair that fell loose out of your messy low ponytail, and they moved with the breeze from the fan. You were both on your bed; she was sitting criss-crossed before you, music playing in the background. She was drawing you in her journal, claiming that she needed more practice, which, after years, she revealed was just an excuse to draw you and spend more time with you; you were her favorite muse and she was just a loser who couldn't help but simp for you. Her cheeks were slightly pink due to the heat (or at least you thought), and her green concentrated eyes flickered back and forth from your face to her journal. When she started drawing your lips you unconsciously licked them, causing her eyes to dart up to look at you in the eyes.
She let out a soft sigh and mumbled under her breath, "m' almost done." A faint blush crept up her cheeks, though you couldn't quite explain why. Intrigued, you leaned over to get a glimpse of her work and asked, "Yeah? can I see?" She straightened up, holding the journal close to her chest, and replied with a slight huff, "Don't move, c'mon, stay still." You raised an eyebrow in amusement and retorted, "What? I'm not even moving." She didn't respond and instead furrowed her brows, focusing intently on her piece of art. The room fell silent, except for the sound of her pencil scratching against the paper.
The silence between you and her was palpable but not uncomfortable, yet you still decided to break it with a joke. "Knock knock," you said, a small smile forming on your face. Her eyes, which had been focused on her journal, darted up to meet yours once again. A playful smile appeared on her lips as she asked, "Who's there?" in a slightly sarcastic tone, giving you an eye roll. "Kiss," you replied, wiggling your brows. "Kiss who?" she played along, her eyes still fixed on you. "Me," you smiled awkwardly.
You knew it was a terrible joke, a very corny one, but you couldn't help it. After all, you didn't have much experience in these kinds of things — the universe only knew how long it took you to muster up the courage to make a silly little joke like that one. She chuckled dryly. "God, that's really bad," she commented, and you laughed along. "I know," you lowered your head and shook it slowly before looking up at her again. Both of you were smiling at each other, the tension between you growing. "So?" you quipped, trying to sound confident. "Do you want to?" you asked, your heart beating fast. "Oh shit, you were serious?" She suddenly sounded nervous, placing her somehow worn-out journal on her thighs as she looked at you in disbelief. You could tell she was surprised, and maybe a little flustered. "I'm sosorry — I didn't mean to make it awkward. Forget it. It's just I really like you a lot, but if you don't—" you started to say, trying to diffuse the tension, but her soft lips cut off your nervous rambling before you could finish your sentence. You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body as you kissed her back, your hands reaching up to cup her face. It was a moment you would never forget.
After your first kiss, you and Ellie went on a few dates together. It was during one of these dates that she took you to the park and asked you to be her girlfriend. The setting was perfect — you were having a lovely picnic date, the weather was just right, and a gentle breeze was blowing, caressing your skin and making it erupt in goosebumps as you sat close to the pond next to Ellie, throwing frozen peas to the ducks, their quacking filling the air with lively energy. The water was still and calm, the sun was shining, and the greenery around you was lush and vibrant. You felt a sense of warmth and happiness.
The auburnette sat beside you, leaning back as you fed the ducks in the pond. She wore a tender smile on her face, watching you with a gentle gaze. "I thought they only ever ate bread," she commented, breaking the peaceful silence between the two of you. You turned to her, your eyebrows raised in surprise. "If all they eat is bread, how will they survive in the wild without people tossing them bread all the time?" You replied with a hint of sarcasm. She scoffed and playfully nudged you. "Alright, smartass," she said, you nudged her back, both of you giggling like children. "I'm surprised a know-it-all nerd like you didn't know that," you teased her. "Nerd, huh? you actually like this nerd" she retorted teasingly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pointed at herself. "Do I, now?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. You couldn't take back your words after all, you did like her and you made sure to tell her, let's say... pretty often.
"Oh yeah, you do," she chuckled, nodding her head playfully. The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence, watching the ducks swim around in the pond. Suddenly, she turned to you, her expression serious. "Listen, I was thinking...you know how we're going out on dates and all," she started, her voice hesitant. Your head snapped to look at her; your heart was beating like crazy, not that it usually wasn't due to your syndrome, but it felt crazier than usual. You felt your palms start to sweat, and you grew more nervous by the second. "Yeah?" you prompted her, waiting for her to continue. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...we already act like a couple, so...will you be my girlfriend?" she finally gathered the courage to ask, her eyes locked on yours.
She seemed a bit tense, although you couldn't understand why. After all, you had told her multiple times before how much you liked her, and the two of you had been acting like a couple for quite some time now. You gave her a cheeky smile "Of course I want to," you said confidently, jumping right into her lap, feeling a sudden burst of excitement as you wrapped your arms around her.
Your love was pure and genuine, and it was evident from the little things you did for each other. She would leave little notes around your room or in your bag whenever you left for a second. These notes would remind you of her love for you, and you would return the gesture by hiding notes in her notebooks or in her journal. She would find them the next day during her classes, and it would brighten up her day.
"you look so pretty"
"are you a keyboard? cause you're just my type ;)"
"i love your freckles and i love you"
"hope you're having a good day :) ps. no more pickup lines im begging D:"
Your love was spontaneous and full of small handmade gifts, full of drawings from her part and origami from yours. Once in a while she'd even write and play songs for you, which had you smiling like an idiot cause how romantic was that?
She was always too caring, and she would make sure that you were feeling okay despite your heart disorder. She would accompany you to your doctor appointments and never leave your side, even though you would tell her she didn't need to be there. Unlike your parents who had always been overprotective, she was always looking out for you without being too much. Since you were the "sick" one between the two of you, she always had trouble accepting help from you, especially when she felt sick or was on her period. But you always insisted on taking care of her, making her chicken soup whenever she had a horrible cold, and ensuring that she took painkillers for her period cramps. You always made sure that she had enough pads and her favorite snacks or helped her through one of her panic attacks. Soon, she got used to it and would always be a whining mess when she was sick, hoping you would cuddle with her or baby her. She loved it more than she liked to admit.
On your anniversaries, you would surprise each other with flowers. The first time you had ever gotten her flowers (which was on your first date), she accepted them with teary eyes, saying that none of her ex-girlfriends had ever gotten her flowers or treated her like a woman; you loved the idea of being her first in something — you didn't get to be her first kiss or her first time in...that, but at least you were the first girlfriend who treated her right.
Your first time together was so special and intimate, it made you feel truly alive. The way she was so gentle and caring towards you left an indelible imprint on your heart. Her touch was like a soft breeze on a calm summer day, sending shivers down your spine, and being with her made you feel like you were safe from the rest of the world. You remember how her tender gaze made you feel like the most special and beautiful girl in the world, making your insecurities fade away. The way she held you close, with a warmth that engulfed you, made you feel comfortable in your own skin. It was your first time ever, and you confided in her about not having much experience. She reassured you that she would teach you, show you the way, and make you feel good, and good Lord, if she kept that promise.
It was a warm and peaceful afternoon, the sun was shining brightly outside, casting a warm glow into the room. You and your girlfriend were both lounging on her comfortable bed, enjoying each other's company in silence. While she was intently watching an action movie, you were lost in the pages of a captivating book. Your attentive eyes scanned each line and paragraph, immersing yourself in the story and oblivious to your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie was growing increasingly impatient, huffing and puffing in an attempt to get your attention. Her huffs were airy at first, but as time went on, they became more forceful and pronounced, hoping to grab your attention and draw you away from your book.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, you turned your head gently towards her, lowering your book ever so slightly "What's wrong, Els?" you asked, concerned. "Put it down, I wanna cuddle." she responded, snatching the book out of your hand and placing it on her nightstand. You couldn't help but smile at her neediness, finding it adorable. "Fine," you sighed playfully, "Needy," you added under your breath, rolling your eyes at her. But she caught your comment, "What? Did you say somethin'?" You couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction as she pulled you on top of her and wrapped her arms around you. "Oh, nothing," you innocently replied.
"Comfy? Anything hurts?" she asked in a gentle tone as she rubbed your back in a slow and soothing motion, and you instantly relaxed under her touch. You took a deep breath, the tension in your muscles slowly fading away. "I'm okay, — m'comfy" you reassured her, feeling grateful for her care and existence in general. You hugged her tightly, burying your head in her chest. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, and the steady beats of her heart were a comforting sound.
You both cuddled up in silence, movie still playing softly in the background. As she kept rubbing your back, you gently scratched her arm something that usually relaxed her. After a little while, you felt compelled to express your feelings and whispered, "I love you." Even though you couldn't see her face, you could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, "Love you more, babe." You remained comfortably nestled in her chest, head buried in her grey hoodie. When you finally lifted your head from her chest, you gazed into her beautiful green eyes, already looking at you with so much affection that made your heart skip a beat. "You mean the world to me." you confessed, her eyes softened even more, and her heart swelled with love for you. She was the perfect girlfriend, always so loving and respectful, and you couldn't ask for anyone better. Finally, she leaned in and kissed you slowly and tenderly, a soft kiss that soon turned into something passionate and full of desire. She rolled on top, pinning you down with her weight, her hands roaming all over your body. She squeezed your waist, your hands cupping her freckled face to keep her close. She sighed quietly into the kiss, her fingers tugging at your tank top, and you knew what that meant — she wanted it off. And to confirm your thoughts, it was Ellie herself. She pulled away, lips slightly swollen and pink. Despite her best efforts, it was pretty evident that she was struggling to control her breathing as she panted uncontrollably, both because of the intense making out and her arousal growing by the second. Her face was flushed; she looked at you to gauge your reaction to her silent request, to which you responded with a little nod. "I'm ready," you uttered timidly, feeling your cheeks getting warmer. "Are you sure? We don't nee-" you cut her words off, repeating yourself, "I'm ready," this time sounding a bit more firm and confident of your choice. She mimicked the slight nod you gave her a few seconds ago, loose strands of auburn hair falling out of her little bun framing her face, her eyes never leaving yours.
She leaned in once again, giving you a peck on your moist lips before kissing your jawline and down to your neck. "Can i touch you?" she asked between damp kisses she left on your neck, "I don't know, can you?" she chuckled and began to suck purple marks on your soft skin as she slipped her hand underneath your tank top, brushing against your bare stomach before reaching her target — your tits. She cupped one of your tits, feeling the fabric of your bra. Your breath hitched, your cheeks were flushed and you were grateful she was too focused on your neck to notice "Can I take it off?" she questioned between cute smooches sounds, "Yeah," you breathed out, looking back into her eyes.
When she did, you were left in nothing but your bra, the visible scar near your shoulder making you feel uncomfortable, same with the implanted pacemaker under your skin, it was visible and you hoped it didn't gross her out. You couldn't help but look away from her, suddenly feeling ashamed for something you had no control over; it was something so small yet so significant for you.
You felt her index and middle finger gently pressing under your jawline to turn your head towards her and make you look into her eyes once again. Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper, as she spoke to you in such a tender tone. "Hey," she started softly, sensing your insecurity. "You're beautiful, alright?" Hearing those words from her sent chills all over your body, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. She continued, "We'll go slow. If something feels wrong, you let me know, okay?" Her words were reassuring, and you could feel her gentle touch on your face, holding it firmly so that you couldn't look away. You nodded in response to her words, suddenly feeling shy in front of your girlfriend.
After less than a few minutes, both of your clothes were off, thrown carelessly somewhere in the room. She still had her sport bra on and her underwear while you only had your underwear on. She trailed down, kissing all over your bare chest and breasts, and your scar, the one you were insecure about "smooch smooch..so pretty, smooch beautiful, my pretty girl" she kept murmuring under her breath causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, your nipples stood erect and hard, begging for some attention. She chuckled when she felt your sensible nub harden under her palm, "Didn't mean to make the ladies feel neglected" she joked, her voice was husky. She looked up at you with a cocky grin, and you felt your cheeks heat up even more; you chuckled awkwardly and rolled your eyes at her attempt to tease you about something you couldn't control. "Why are you always like this?" you rhetorically asked with a playful smirk, she shrugged and gave you a lopsided smile as she began to kiss your chest and attack your nipples with her mouth. "mmphh" you let out; a pathetic attempt to swallow a small moan when she sucked on one of your nipples and pinched the other. You bit down on your lip, and you could feel her smile at the small sound that came from you as she continued to work on your tits.
She trailed her hand down your abdomen, her fingers dancing around the waistband of your underwear teasingly. You couldn't deny the arousal building in your panties and at the pit of your stomach, you could feel the uncomfortable stickiness forming in your undies. So fucking wet. Leaving moist kisses all the way down to your belly button, then she stopped. She looked up at you, cheeks flushed just like yours and her eyes looking for a sign of your consent. She wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable with the way she was exploring your body, feeling it, and touching it. "I'm ready, Ellie. I promise" you repeated, your voice was soft and still timid.
"If you want me to stop, just tell me to, okay?" she told you once again and she didn't resume what she was doing until you gave her a light nod. She spread your legs, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the darker spot of your panties, you were so fucking wet. She hissed something under her breath that you couldn't quite catch. Seeing how wet she made you only served to boost her ego (as if she wasn't cocky already, the last thing this girl needed was a boost of her ego). "God, you're so wet," she couldn't help but voice her thoughts. "Thanks, Einstein, I haven't noticed," you responded with a hint of sarcasm, perhaps hoping to divert attention away from your embarrassment. She chuckled and an amused smile appeared on her dotted face, her brows jolting up. "Don't you give me the attitude" Before you could say anything back, her digits gently pressed on your still-clothed pussy, making your hips jerk away and a little moan escape your lips. Your face was on fire as you registered the lewd sound that accidentally left your lips. "That's what you get," A broad grin of pride spread across her face, and a fleeting pout that she found endearing appeared on your face "Oh, what? You mad at me, now?" she continued to taunt you, you let out a deep sigh and turned your gaze away.
"Shut up — god, why are you so annoying even in moments like this?" You covered your eyes with the sweaty palm of your hand as you spoke, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You could hear her giggle at your shyness, and it was evident that she enjoyed teasing you and playing with your emotions.
"C'mon pretty, m'just messin' with you." but she couldn't stop snickering to herself, finding your reactions quite funny. "Look at me," she commanded in a gentle tone, and you complied; you moved your hand away from your face and looked down at her, who was positioned between your spread thighs. "Want me to stop?" she questioned again, making you huff in response "Ellie. If you ask me that one more time, i swear—"
"Jesus, just making sure, no need to be so feisty about it" her fingers hooked under the waistband of your pink panties, tugging it down and freeing your dripping cunt. "Do I seriously make you this wet?" she was in disbelief, watching the string of precum that connected your pussy to your damp panties she had just pulled down.
"No, I was secretly thinking of Megan Fox, imagining her on top doing naughty things to me," you sarcastically retorted. She gasped dramatically, acting offended. Such a drama queen she was. "I consider that cheating." She played along, keeping that fake offended demeanor on. You laughed softly at her silly expression. "Okay, then, you caught me. Mentally cheating on you right now," you joked.
"I see how it is" You laughed again, and she scoffed, but she wasn't actually pissed at you.
She began kissing your inner thigh, the ache between your thighs becoming almost unbearable. "Els..." you had this whiny hint in your voice, growing visibly impatient, "Hm?" she hummed back, switching to your other thigh, going near your pussy but never actually touching you where you wanted her to. You moved your hips close to her face, but she moved away. "What do you want?" she asked teasingly, playing dumb. Fuck, you hated her guts for doing that. "You know what i want" she clicked her tongue under the roof of her mouth "Don't think I do" you sighed, frustration slowly creeping up inside you "Please?" your voice was delicate, almost as if you were begging her to let you try her fries or asking her to buy you something. She smirked, seeing you all horny and desperate yet still struggling with your words, too shy to tell her what you wanted directly. "Please what?" she encouraged you, that obnoxious cocky grin never leaving her face; she was making fun of you at this point. But you stayed quiet. "Can't read your mind princess, you gotta use your words."
"Touch me?...please?" your voice above a whisper but she heard you, you could tell she did from the satisfied expression casting over her features. "Sorry? Louder. Couldn't hear you" that cunt. You knew she did hear you and that she just wanted to hear it again so, you tried your best to push your shyness aside and please her. "Touch me, Ell-" But she was growing way too impatient, pressing her thumb on your clit, you let out a strangled moan and your hips jerked away at the sudden contact, but she pulled you closer again. Between the two of you, the more impatient one was probably her. Poor baby couldn't even let you say it twice, she was already torturing your aching nub, drawing small circles on it.
"Feeling good?" she questioned, her eyes studying your every reaction to her touch. She knew you felt good but still needed to hear it from you. "Yeah," you breathed out, your breathing becoming more elaborated. "Remember to breathe from your nose, baby. Don't want your heart to go crazy over a little excitement — if it gets too much, tell me." she thoughtfully said. "I'll be fine" you reassured her, grabbing her other hand to squeeze it.
In no time, her lips were on your clit, gently sucking on it. She moaned on it, almost as she she was the one getting head. She could feel her pussy starting to ache, the fabric of her undies sticking to her pussy, but she couldn't help it. The way you sounded, your cute expressions and your pretty pussy were just too much to bare for her. "So fucking beautiful," she mumbled, pulling away from your pussy for a second. She slid a finger inside you and you arched your back, pushing your hips to her face to seek for more contact "This okay, yeah?" her voice was rasp. You whined in response "Ooooh look at her, think she loves me" it took quite a few to understand that she was talking to your pussy instead "God, w-why are you so…" you tried to hide the turmoil in your voice but you interrupted your own words with a slutty moan that left your throat as soon as she pushed her finger deeper into you.
"Fuuuck" you grunted, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and the grip on her hand tightening. "So responsive," she chuckled. "Ellie, shut..up," you whined, moving your hips slowly to meet her thrusts. "Can't even talk without moaning, so nasty." she snickered, acting like she was totally unaffected by your pretty moans. She was fucking soaked, humping into absolutely nothing, not that you could notice it, too focused on the way she was making you feel. The gushing sounds riverbed throughout Ellie's bedroom, and she absolutely fucking loved it. She loved seeing you like this, whimpering and writhing under her touch, so ethereal, your body was pure art to her.
"M-more" you stuttered, panting a bit, your chest raising and falling quickly "More, huh?" she echoed mockingly, sliding another finger into your little honey jar, wetness dripping down to her knuckles from how wet you were. "Gahh-uhhd" you let out incoherent words, she groaned, feeling your walls clenching around her fingers and feeling her own clenching around absolutely nothing. "Like this, yes?" she questioned in a breathy voice, her brain suddenly struggling to make out sentences that made sense, too mushy to say shit and all because of you. If you only knew how long she waited to see you like this — touch you like this. "Uh-aahh" you trapped little whimpers inside your mouth, biting hard on your bottom lip again. "Nah-uh let me hear you," she immediately scolded you, shaking her head in disapproval, but you didn't listen.
Her face lowered to your pussy, lips attaching to your throbbing clit, teasing it with the tip of her tongue, switching between circling it and sucking it gently. Your mouth hung open, arching your back and bucking your hips against her face as you let out obscene moans. She moaned against your core, a mixture of her own spit and your juices covering her chin. "Taste hmmsoo good" Your other hand reached down to move pieces of her hair out of her face. "Ellie, I-i think I'm gonna-" you trailed off, not that she needed you to tell her, she could feel you squeezing her digits as she kept hitting that soft spot inside you. "Gonna cum, baby? wanna cum for me, beautiful?" she cooed.
"God..I love you so fucking much," she hissed under her breath; you moaned loudly in return, riding her fingers "Babe, m'gonna cum" you squealed, high-pitched moans reverbing throughout her apartment. "i'm here, princess" she cooed, squeezing your hand that she had been holding this entire time, so clingy. She wanted to ensure you knew she was there for you, not only to please you. That little feeling that had been building up in your stomach snapped like a rubber band, milking her fingers as she let you ride your orgasm. Curses falling from both of your lips, your muscles spasming and squeezing her fingers — god if she loved the way your body was reacting to her.
"I know, i know, I'm here baby" she whispered sweetly when a few whiny whimpers left your mouth. When you came down from your high, she withdrew her fingers and sucked them clean, her eyes locked with yours as she did so "You're so nasty" you giggled, feeling yourself blush again "You're the one who came all over my fingers" she teased you, crawling up to kiss your lips. Your tongues tangled together and you could taste yourself on her tongue. You place your hands on her waist, pulling her body closer to yours.
"You must be tired, angel." She reluctantly pulled away, an inch away from your lips as she spoke. "Want me to leave you all wet and needy?" you inquired in disbelief, lifting your brows up at her reluctance. Her eyes silently begging you to touch her, but she still preferred to put your health over her needs. That's how caring and loving she was. "I'm just saying you don't need to push yourself if you feel tired," she repeated.
"Oh, Ellie…" you sighed, pulling her underwear down and taking her by surprise. She seemed to be internally struggling to find the right thing to say, but you preceded her, "Think I can't handle a little fun?" you purred, growing bolder in your actions. You cupped her cunt, feeling all her sweet juices cover your hand; she was so fucking soaked, it was almost unbelievable. "Only if you're sure," she answered, her breath hitching in her throat as she gulped thickly, already trying hard to suppress her cute little moans. "I'm sure you want this," you teased her, the corner of your lips curling up in a smile, almost as if to make fun of her; it was your turn now.
"I do, you know I do," she replied. It was so entertaining to watch her keep her breathing steady. You ran your index and middle finger through her glistening folds and began to tease her puffy clit, rubbing it slowly, almost painfully. "Fuck" she grunted, humping the palm of your hand, desperate to find relief; you hummed back. "Am I doing okay?" you asked innocently; despite your inexperience, you could tell she loved it, and you high-fived yourself for the little mental notes you took while she was touching you just a moment ago. She grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers to her entrance. "Finger me," she commanded with a raspy voice.
She let out a small gasp when you thrusted into her slowly. "Like this?" you could feel her walls clenching around your inexperienced fingers, "Uh-huh," she bobbed her head, positioning your hand just how she wanted it, guiding you as she rode your fingers. "Fuck, you're so messy — so wet for me," you muttered under your breath, pulling her closer to you; she was supporting her weight on her wobbly knees as she rode your fingers, burying her head into the crook of your neck. Your other hand rested on her hips, holding her in place and not allowing her to move as you kept slamming your fingers into her. The pleasure sounds she let out right into your ear only served to make you wetter and hornier than you already were — if that was even possible. It was almost like your inexperience melted away, with the sole intent of pleasing her. Immaculate sounds left her throat as she chased her orgasm on your fingers, and you couldn't help but groan pitifully after her. Your pussy already yearning for her again, struggling to hold onto the last shreds of sanity. "Just like that." Her voice was weak and breathy, it was fucking music to your ears, making you feel all types of things inside your tummy, butterflies perhaps? She couldn't even speak properly, struggling to suppress her slutty whimpers. Muttering filthy curses under her breath as you picked up the pace, hitting that spongy spot over and over; you could feel her whole body tremble and squirm in your hands. What made it better was knowing that you were causing it.
"You feel so good, El," you whispered in her ear, kissing all the cute little freckles spattered on her bare shoulder and collarbone "'m gonna cum" she gasped, her whimpers becoming more frequent and louder. Who knew she'd become a whiny mess when close to her orgasm, but for some reason, you found it adorable — like her life depended entirely on your fingers, cute wispy brows furrowed together in concentration. "Gonna cum on my fingers, pretty?" you purred. "Please…" she sounded so fucking needy it was almost ridiculous, but you slowed down instead, earning a groan from her part "Nonono, don't stop, pleaseplease," Her words were rushed, sounding like a kid who had just lost the most precious possession. "What is it that you said? Words, right? — you gonna be a good girl and ask or you just gonna cum like that?" for some reason, the idea of playing with her in such a vulnerable state turned you on. You wanted to see how far you could push her. She let out a shaky breath. "Can't believe you're doing this." She slowly shook her head in disbelief. Your digits pressed on the spot that almost made her squirt, and she squirmed. "Words." You spoke with a firmer tone, but you still had a playful, teasing smirk on your lips. "Swear to fucking god— next time, I won't go so easy on you," uttering a threatening remark followed by an imperceptible scoff. "I never asked you to go easy on me." Your pace slowed down even more, and she frowned at you.
"Can I cum? on your fingers? please." her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her pupils dilated with desperation. "Such a goood girl El, such a good girl…cum for me" but all she could do was crash her lips against yours, leaving you no choice but swallow all her little noises. Her thighs trembled with each thrust, her legs parting slightly to allow better access as your fingers kept thrusting in and out of her wetness harder and faster, causing her to moan into your mouth.
When she came down from her high she collapsed against you, your bodies glistening with sweat, still breathing unevenly. The first thing she said when her breathing went back to normal was "I think I'm gonna marry you," before dissolving into a fit of giggles. You couldn't help but chuckle along with her. "I'm flattered. I guess you liked it then?" you responded, wrapping your arms around her. She snuggled into your chest, a contented smile on her face. "If I liked it?" she repeated, incredulous. You laughed softly, "Well, did you?"
"You were lying when you said it was your first time, weren't you?" she asked teasingly, furrowing her eyebrows at you and looking at you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I take that as a compliment," you smirked, not giving her a straight answer, her eyes carefully studied your features, analyzing every crease and contour, searching for any sign of deception "No, seriously. Were you a virgin?" she asked again, still in disbelief "I guess you'll never know," you said, teasing her further. "Come on. I'm your girlfriend. I'm supposed to know," she said, acting dramatic and waving her hands in the air. "Are you?" you asked teasingly, and she gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you? Am I not your girlfriend?" she asked, pretending to be hurt. You couldn't help but giggle. "I meant...are you supposed to know?" you teased her curiosity. "Pffttt whatever," she said, pretending to be offended and scooting away from you. You continued laughing at her antics. "Babe, where are you going?" you asked, still chuckling as you reached for her tattooed forearm and pulled her back towards you. "Girlfriends tell each other everything," she pouted playfully. "Right. Let's watch Jurassic Park and cuddle," you suggested, grabbing the remote to put the movie on.
You shared a bond that was unbreakable, and every experience you had together only brought you closer as if there was an invisible red string that seemed to connect the two of you, always pulling you closer and closer with each passing day. Your love for each other was like a never-ending flame that grew brighter with time. She never really stopped surprising you with little thoughtful gifts, and she even drew sketches of you when you weren't looking, and you both looked forward to creating new adventures together. She was always this huge simp for you, your number one supporter and fan.
After completing university, she asked you to move into her small but cozy apartment, which was basically a reflection of her personality. The walls were adorned with paintings she had made, stacks of comic books on her shelves, action figures, and her favorite movies and games collection. It was a delightful mishmash of all the things she loved. And slowly, your belongings started to mix in with hers. Her lonely toothbrush now had a companion, and her sneakers left by the door had an extra pair of shoes right next to them — your shoes. The dirty laundry was now a mix of colorful pink clothes and pastel colors, while hers were mostly grey or dark clothes. The wall hooks had more jackets hanging on them, and cute little stuffed animals were carefully placed on her your bed. The shelves filled with cute little plants that you both lovingly cared for, filling the empty gaps between an action figure and another. Living with her was a dream come true; you couldn't have been happier. You both had created a space that was uniquely yours, filled with love and a familiar warmth, it felt like family.
And before you knew it a new member joined your little family — a golden retriever. You had always dreamt of having a dog, but your parents never allowed you to have one when you were a kid. You had been talking about how much you loved the idea of having a furball running around your little apartment, ever since, Ellie had been secretly planning to surprise you with a cute little puppy. She had subtly asked you what kind of dog you would like, and she started doing her research. She had never owned a dog before, so she wanted to learn as much as possible about what puppies needed. Puppies required more than just toys and cuddles, after all they needed proper nutrition, and she was confused about what kind of food to get for the puppy. She went to the grocery store and found a wide variety of puppy food with different flavors and vitamins. After careful consideration, she picked out what she thought was the best one for the puppy. One day, she told you that she was staying out late for work; in reality, the poor baby had to drive for an hour to get the exact puppy she had seen on social media (Facebook, to be exact, Joel had helped her with that). The puppy was a beautiful golden retriever with a shiny coat and an adorable face. The drive back home with the puppy was mostly quiet, except for her talking to the honey-furred baby that sat there in the passenger seat in silence, looking at her lovingly.
The puppy's big, brown eyes had already stolen her heart, and she found herself speaking in a silly, high-pitched voice "I just know she's gonna love you," she cooed, her words directed at the adorable pup. "You're such a good girl, aren't ya?" she continued, praising the puppy for every little thing she did, even breathing. "You better not be stealing her from me too much, though, or else…" she trailed off, her voice filled with mock threats. But her playful words quickly turned to more affectionate ones as she gazed into the puppy's sweet eyes. "Gosh, you're so fuckin' cute," she whispered, her fingers gently caressing the puppy's soft fur while the other remained on the steering wheel "Wonder what your name will be," she hummed, tapping her fingers lightly on the wheel. She began to sing a song she had just made up on the spot, directed at the little furball who was wiggling her tail in excitement. "My cute little shrimp," she sang, her voice filled with love and affection, but when the puppy let out a little whine at her singing, she couldn't help but laugh at herself. "What? Am I that much of a bad singer?" she joked, her voice filled with self-deprecating humor. "Oof, tough crowd," she added, chuckling at her own joke "Just wait till I show you my guitar skills, you little shit."
When she finally made it to your apartment, she had to carry the little shrimp all the way up to the stairs cause the puppy was too scared to climb them and the elevator was currently broken. She had to take small steps to make sure she wouldn't trip over her own feet or something like that. "So heavy," she muttered under her breath before putting the pup down, her arms aching. She unlocked the door and you immediately called out your name. "You home, baby?" she heard from the kitchen, where she assumed you were washing the dishes because she could hear the sound of clinking plates. She responded, "Could you come here real quick? need your help with something." She left the dog outside on the doorstep, behind the wall and out of your sight.
You shouted from the kitchen, "Give me a second," before approaching her. She handed you a plastic bag filled with dog toys and bowls. You looked at her in confusion since you didn't own a pet. "What's this for?" you asked, puzzled. She didn't reply but simply moved to the side and clicked her tongue multiple times. The fur ball appeared and ran to you wiggling her tail. You slapped your hand on your mouth in disbelief, and your eyes widened in surprise, soon welling up with tears.
You got on your knees and held the pup close to you, hugging the fur ball tightly. "Oh my fucking god, iloveyouiloveyou," you kept rambling between cute sniffles, and she couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "Surprise, babe," she said with a small smile, kneeling down to pet the puppy in your arms. The puppy was small and soft, with big brown eyes and tiny paws. You couldn't believe how adorable she was.
"I love you so fucking much. She is so fucking cute. I can't believe it. I'm a mother now," you said, tears of joy running down your cheeks. She chuckled at your words, happy to see you so happy. "Yep, we're parents now," she played along, scratching the dog behind her ear. "What're we naming her?" she asked then, wiping the tears off your face with her thumb.
"Maple?" you sniffled hard, "Maple, I like Maple." You looked down at the little pup in your arms, and she looked up at you with innocent eyes.
Ever since the beginning, it was clear that Maple was more than just a pet; she was a member of your family. She was such a beautiful and intelligent dog, whenever you or Ellie came home, Maple would be the first to greet you with a wagging tail and excited barks that would fill the room with her infectious energy. She would jump up, her paws dancing in the air, and nuzzle her wet nose against your hand begging for cuddles and kisses. But Maple's abilities went beyond just being a dog. She had an incredible intuition that seemed almost human-like, and had a sixth sense when it came to reading emotions. She always seemed to sense whenever your heart was going a little too crazy and would nudge you with her nose to make you sit down. But your heartbeat wasn't the only thing she could sense; whenever Ellie was about to have a panic attack she could feel it, and if she was having one and you weren't by her side, she would come get you.
You remembered the first time this happened. It was a dark and stormy night, and you and Ellie had just gone to bed. You were sound asleep when Maple jumped up on the bed and began licking your face frantically. You thought she needed to go outside, so you groaned, "Babe, think Maple needs to-" You started, your voice still thick with sleep, but when your hand landed on the empty mattress instead of your girlfriend's shoulder, you instantly woke up.
Following Maple to the bathroom, you found Ellie sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her freckled face, and her breathing uneven. You knelt down in front of her and spoke to her softly, using a soothing tone to calm her down. You knew better than just to touch her; she seemed too absent and lost in her own nightmare to welcome such an invasion. "El, hey…I'm here, honey." As your gentle cooing reached her ears, she seemed to awaken from a trance, her terrified eyes locked with yours, fear etched across her beautiful features. "Hi baby, it's okay." you tried to calm her down, "i'm here, okay?" she was trembling with fear, and your heart sank. You gently placed your hand on her knee and tried to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. With a soft and soothing voice, you said, "You're safe now...let's take a deep breath together, alright?" You could see the tears streaming down her face as she tried her best to mimic your deep breaths. You kept encouraging her to take deep breaths in and out, and she slowly began to calm down. Maple sat in the corner of the bathroom, watching over Ellie with a concerned expression. When Ellie finally calmed down, you sat down next to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm here for you," you felt her body relax and her breathing steady. She leaned into your touch, and you could feel the tension in her body slowly dissipating. You were her anchor, her everything. You could feel her heartbeat slowing down as she rested her head on your chest, listening to the rhythm of your breathing. You kissed the top of her head tenderly, and she closed her eyes, taking in your scent. Suddenly, she rasped out, "I love you," her voice sounded weak, you knew she was exhausted "I love you more — Feeling better?" You ran your fingers through her messy hair, and she gave you a small nod in response. The golden furball walked to Ellie's other side and laid down, placing her head on her thigh. Ellie smiled weakly and petted her gently "My two favorite girls," you joked with a soft tone, trying to lighten the mood. An airy scoff left her nose as all three of you sat there, cuddling each other.
Maple was an essential part of your family. She was always there, no matter where you went. Sundays were extra special because Ellie would be at home all day. You would spend those days soaking up all her attention and going to the beach with her and Maple, your cute little meatball. There was nothing better than lounging under the warm afternoon sun, and Ellie bringing a big umbrella to shield you from the heat. While you played with Maple, she would often strum her guitar or sketch the two of you, looking at you with heart eyes as she captured the moment on paper. The sound of your laughter would fill the air, as you threw the frisbee to Maple and enjoyed the perfect beach day with Ellie by your side. You were all she ever wanted and she was all you ever wished for.
That's why she felt the need to take your relationship to the next level.
"Baaaabe" you shouted from the living room while browsing through the countless titles on Netflix. "Yeah?" Your girlfriend responded from the kitchen, her voice echoing through the cozy apartment as she paced around, probably making you something to drink. "What do you wanna watch?" your eyes casted across the big TV screen, the multiple titles illuminate your face, making it difficult to choose just one. You heard a sigh from the other side of the couch and looked over to see your beloved dog, Maple, ready to nap after a long day of work. poor dog.
"Uhhh…dunno, a horror movie?" she suggested, sounding unsure. "Wow, thanks for the help, Ellie. Always so useful," You retorted in a fake annoyed tone "Do you remember that new movie with Jennifer Lawrence I told you I wanted to watch?" she asked after a few moments of pondering, emerging from the kitchen with two steaming mugs in her hands. You raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "So, you wanna watch it for her, huh?" She laughed at your words and rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you told me to pick something, and I did," she explained handing you one of the mugs. "Careful, it's hot." You'd never seen this mug before, Ellie was obsessed with collecting new ones, so you didn't really pay attention to it. "Okay, fine, Jennifer Lawrence, it is," you said as you selected the movie she suggested. "Hi, baby," you heard her say in a high-pitched voice, and when you looked at her, you realized she was talking to the dog. "Hi baby? really? I'm literally right here." She giggled at your response and scooted closer to you, kissing your cheek. "Hi baby," she repeated her words, but this time in a sultry tone "Better."
You took another sip of your drink, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you. When you turned to look at her, she quickly averted her eyes and pretended to be interested in the TV. "What?" you asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "What?" she echoed back, acting like she hadn't been staring at you for the last 15 minutes. "No, you what" you repeated, her eyes darting from the mug in your hands to you. "You done with that yet?" she questioned, seeming almost too impatient. "Huh?" she cleared her throat, eyes wandering nervously around the living room for a few seconds before returning them to you again. "Are you done with your latte? Want me to make you more?" she rephrased it, trying to sound less nervous. You looked down at your mug for a second "Not yet"
Her eyes remained glued on you, eagerly awaiting for something, a reaction perhaps, you couldn't tell, she was just acting weird as hell. "Done?" she asked for the third time in a row, after every five seconds, but to her, it felt like an eternity. "Ellie, I swear—" You let out an exasperated sigh "What?" she replied, her voice laced with innocence. "No, seriously. You tryna poison me or something?" you joked,and she simply scoffed at your words and rolled her eyes at you. "Just drink it fast, god," she demanded, her impatience showing. As you take the last sip, your eyes caught a glimpse of a few letters printed on the bottom of the mug.
Your heart skipped a beat as you read the words
Will you marry me?
You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and before you could even process what was happening, you jumped into her lap, crying in her arms. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, and you could feel her heart beating in sync with yours. "Yesyesyesyes" you had whispered between sobs, your voice choked with emotion. Her eyes lit up with joy and she pulled away, revealing a small diamond ring in her hand. You looked at her in awe, realizing that that was the moment you had been waiting for your entire life. The woman of your dreams had asked you to spend the rest of your life with her, and you couldn't have been happier.
"I love you so much," you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as you watched her hands sliding the ring on your finger. She chuckled through her own tears and replied, "I think I love you even more." You sniffled and cupped her face, saying, "I love you with all my heart."
Ellie being Ellie, couldn't help but make a joke about that. She looked at you with a playful smirk on her face; she wiggled her eyebrows up and down and said, "All your heart, huh?"
With a grin, you replied, "It's beating like crazy for you." Then she asked if you wanted to hear a joke from her pun book, but you knew it was a rhetorical question. You prepared yourself for the inevitable dumb joke she was about to tell. "Ellie, I thought we talked about this." You fake scolded her, but she couldn't hold back her smile as she started her joke, almost as if she was about to make the funniest joke ever but everyone who knew Ellie knew that her jokes were...questionable. "Are you pulmonary embolism?" she proceeded, barely containing her laughter.
"Oh no," you frowned, rubbing your forehead. She then delivered the punchline with a wide smile, all proud of herself "Because you take my breath away." You looked at her with a deadpan expression and let out a sigh. You shook your head, and said "Can't believe I'm marrying you," trying to hide the smile that was starting to form on your lips. Ellie looked at you with a cocky grin "Right? I'm great like that — Talented, charming, great jokes...what else could you possibly want?" Rolling your eyes, you responded, "fancy package, lucky me"
After your laughter had subsided, you gazed into her captivating green eyes with a smile filled with affection. You were so deeply in love that it felt almost painful. You could hardly believe how fortunate you were to have found each other. The thought of spending the rest of your lives together filled you with joy and excitement. Both of you leaned in simultaneously, eager to feel the warmth of each other's lips in a tender and passionate kiss.
She was the person who made your life complete. You felt like you had been waiting for her all your life; your life always felt so dull and empty and you never understood why or what it was missing, until you met her. She was your soulmate, your best friend, and the love of your life. You couldn't imagine spending a single day without her by your side. She was the one who made everything better, who made you laugh with her stupid and corny puns when you wanted to cry, who held your hand when you needed comfort. You knew that you could face anything as long as she was with you. You were grateful for every moment you spent together and looked forward to spending the rest of your life with her.
On your wedding day, the weather was perfect, with clear skies and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of flowers from the nearby garden. It felt like a dream come true, and you couldn't believe the day had finally arrived. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you prepared to marry the love of your life. Sure, you were exhausted at the end of the day, but it was all worth it.
As you walked down the aisle, you saw everyone you loved and cared for, all gathered in one place to celebrate your special day. Ellie's closest friends, Dina and Jesse, Joel, your parents, and all your friends were there, beaming with joy and happiness. You were wearing a beautiful white dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, and Ellie couldn't help but cry when she saw you. Her dad rubbed her back, trying to calm the poor baby down, but the tears kept streaming down her face. You were a vision, and she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have you. Ellie was equally breathtaking in her suit, looking sharp and elegant, you couldn't take your eyes off her, she was so fucking fine. You exchanged vows, and it took her a while to finish reading hers, as she was choked up with sobs and emotions. You tried to comfort her by holding her trembling hands, but she was just a wreck.
When the time came for you to kiss your bride, the celebrant said, "You may now kiss your bride." Ellie looked at you with teary eyes, and you both giggled as you leaned in for a kiss, both of you smiling against each other's lips. That moment marked the beginning of your journey together as a married couple, but what mattered most was that you were both committed to being there for each other no matter what.
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