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#contemplating starting a challenge
thebramblewood · 1 year
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Bonus Bri!
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rcarx · 7 months
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Tagged by @gleerant to spell my acc name with songs:
runaway by sasha sloan
christmas morning by luz
another love by tom odell (or affection by fiji blue i couldn't decide)
rainbow by dodie
x's and oh's by elle king yes i cheated
Tagging:
@offthebandwagon @myhumbleme @ahappilyexhaustedperson @wearysighs @orphanblaque @princington @julianavalds
if you want! or anyone who wants to do it!
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poptartmochi · 1 year
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however.. it's not just blorbo thoughts that haunt me with that song... it's teacher thoughts too! 🤯
#for the past few months I've been going back and forth about whether i want to teach middle or high school#and this is nowhere near a deciding factor#BUT... consider the following with me.. performing one version as a mass piece at the beginning of the year with the full choir and then.#🤌🏻#at the end of the year doing the other with just the seniors because they have become the old man who will never again pass this way 😭#i feel like dickau's would be better as a mass piece because of it's more relaxed rhythms. the chords sound fuller than macdonald's which#would probably sound nicer with all hands on deck! and then macdonald's more rhythmically challenging arrangement would be cool for the#seniors 😁 but this is to my untrained and pretty rusty ear so 🕴️ we'll see how i feel when i go back to school#another idea I've entertained is giving each class a like. Challenge Song their freshman year and recording it‚ then reprising it their#senior year and letting them compare their performances to reflect their growth as musicians.. i think that would be really cool :]#i dont think i could conduct the bridge builder with that in mind though.. id start crying lol! but i think it is fundamental as a choir#student to watch your director cry in the middle of a song+ continue on as if nothing was happening#but anyhow idk man.. the idea of working with high schoolers to really build up their musicality and prepare them for the world is very#appealing to me but you can't be a musician without the foundations which i could establish in middle school#and foundations are very fun to teach as well!! but foundations can be taught in a beginning choir course or during summer camp#so 😩#the music i want to direct is all satb which suits high school better. but is it selfish to choose which way to go based on what music you#like? 🕴️🕴️ the contemplations man.... anyhow i have a lot more growing and learning and Studying to do before this will even matter#can't prepare kids for the world when I've scarcely explored it myself!#sriracha.txt
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stabbynunchuckss · 2 years
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Day 14 of the wheel of whump
Today's prompt is:
Muffled screams
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The gag was thick and dry in Cooper- No, Pet's mouth, and it struggled against the ropes keeping it tied to the chair. It tried to scream, but no noise came out.
"Well, well, well..." Master's voice came from behind, barely in Pet's peripheral vision. "Look at you. Nobody can hear you scream down here, you know?"
The restraints were too much, and Pet couldn't breathe, it was losing vision- But it forced itself to remain conscious. It couldn't black out. If it did... Well. There was no knowing what Master had in store for it then.
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scientia-rex · 7 months
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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”
He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)
I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.
What is your objective?
Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.
I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.
I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.
Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.
Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.
How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?
Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.
Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?
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mercyburned · 4 months
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anyway, today was the single most frustrating day I’ve had in MONTHS and I had to get Mean with my students today (which almost never happens btw) because they were behaving like absolute demons. I’m still trying to be less agitated about it so if anyone wants to plot or chat PLEASE hop into my DMs lmao
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b-rainlet · 9 months
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Crutchie and Spot are Bitch and Bastard Solidarity
#They also lowkey hate each other ajsjsjdn#I am sorry but Crutchie is a fucking smart-ass who loves to mouth off#Spot is one second away from starting a fistfight at all times and hates authority#He probably bites#Spot's pissed at you and you're walking away with a busted lip and some choice words#Crutchie's pissed at you and he spits in your food and shaves off your eyebrows#And breaks into your house to move all your furniture an inch to the left#(tbh I would be more afraid of Crutchie but that's just between us)#Crutchie officially meets Spot for the first time#The guy who's feared#And immediately insults him in some backhanded way#Because that kids looks like he doesn't even know how to SPELL puberty#Meanwhile Spot makes some remark about soaking Crutchie but he doesn’t hit kids who can't defend themselves#Spot: Don't make me forget my good manners#Crutchie immediately: Is that a challenge?#Spot is way shorter than Crutchie and still calls him Kid#Crutchie asks Spot if he wants to sit on his shoulder to see better#Jack is contemplating Santa Fe again#All of the newsies know not to get involved in their squabbling#Because somehow they BOTH get pissed if somebody picks a side#Racetrack told Crutchie to shut it and Spot ignored him for a week???? What is happening#Also they're both allowed to hackle each other but nobody else is#Except maybe David#One of the newsies makes a joke about how it would be better if they were dating instead of fighting all the time#And everybody gets real quiet thinking about them having relationship drama#Newsies: No Fear#Spot and Crutchie: Dating#Newsies: One Fear#Jack actively praying each night that Crutchie and Spot continue to hate-like each other ajsndndn#Anyway I could talk about them all day I love little ratboy Spot and absolute fucking Bitch Crutchie
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thetriumphantpanda · 14 days
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you'll just have to taste me | joel miller
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Summary | He knows he's no good, knows it's a bad idea, you're out of bounds and should stay that way, but it's okay to test the waters, right?
Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 1.7K
Warnings | this is literally 1.7k of utter filth, you've been warned, it's nasty, I told you, okay? Unspecified age gap, Joel is your dad's buddy and Sarah is your friend. Joel fights with his morals but the pussy is too good. Explicit smut, JUST THE TIP, unprotected PiV, cumshot, cum eating, spit play, dirty talk, Joel talks you through it. No outbreak au, no use of Y/N.
Authors Note | I AM SO INCREDIBLY LATE TO POST THIS, but this is my entry to @hellishjoel's HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE. I know it's September and this was not my original idea, but it came to me and I wrote this in less than an hour. It's filth and it's nasty and I beg you not to judge me okay? Written and edited on my phone so forgive any mistakes.
Divider by @saradika
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
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He’s going to hell. He’s always known it. Despite the years of his parents putting him in his Sunday best and taking him to church each week with his brother, despite his upbringing and the way he’s always tried to be the perfect southern gentleman, Joel Miller is going to hell, and the evidence in right in front of him.
You. His buddy’s daughter. His own daughter’s friend. The bane of his existence for the whole damn summer, with your short dresses and flirty eyes and the way you make him laugh and the way he’s wanted you since you waltzed back into town, masters degree under arm, with one purpose which seemed to be to turn him on at every possible opportunity.
It’s been bubbling for weeks. You’d caught him in the corridor during movie night with Sarah, whilst she was downstairs microwaving popcorn and he’d had no choice but to kiss you, your lips drenched in something that tasted like mango and made him dizzy. Then, at the annual neighbourhood cookout, when you’d dropped a fork and bent over to pick it up, flashing him those skimpy panties as you did, he’d had no choice then but to drag you upstairs and teach you a lesson, ten sharp slaps on your pert ass and strong words that you needed to stop. He doesn’t doubt you went home that night and shoved three fingers into your cunt and dreamt of him as you came.
But now, it’s all real. Sarah’s gone back to college, your parents back to work, and you have nothing lined up until you start getting invited to interview for positions that you’d applied to with a slew of applications about two weeks ago. It’s why you’re on his bed, it’s why he’s left Tommy on site on his own, and why you’re bare as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely, pussy on display as he stands at the foot of his bed and contemplates whether he really should do this.
“Y’scared, old man?” You tease, one hand trailing down your body, two fingers spreading the swollen lips of your cunt, middle finger dipping inside.
He can see the webbing of slick you drag from yourself, finger slow as it circles your clit. His eyes can’t miss the way your hole flutters as you touch yourself, like it’s begging to be filled, begging to be filled by his throbbing cock that he’s currently fisting in his hand.
“Ain’t scared,” He mutters, “Y’sure you wanna do this?”
You don’t speak in response, just dip two fingers back into your weeping cunt and start fucking yourself with them. He squeezes his cock a little tighter in his hand, feeling the weeping of pre-cum at his tip as he watches.
“Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” He muses, moving forward, knees on the mattress, your legs spreading wider to accommodate the width of his thighs.
“Want you,” Is all he hears from your mouth as his cock rests on your pussy, hot and heavy against your skin, “Want your cock, Joel.”
He thrusts his hips a little at that, dragging his length through the soaking folds of your cunt, head rubbing against the swollen bud of your clit.
“Y’sure?” He asks, continuing the rub of his cock, “It’s all over then, baby,” He coos, “I’ll ruin ya.”
“Good,” You groan out, hips shifting to try and catch his tip at your entrance, to try and get exactly what you want, “I want it, Joel, I want it bad.”
“Y’know what I think?” He asks, looking down at you, stopping his movements and opting to circle your clit with his thumb instead, “I reckon we need t’make sure.”
“I am-” You try and protest, but he’s shushing you.
“I reckon,” He says slowly, bringing the tip of his cock to press to your weeping core, “It don’t count if it’s just the tip,” He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly, not enough to sink inside, but enough that he’s already had a taste of what you’ll feel like around him, “Just the tip baby, and then we’ll know.”
He looks down at you and he can see your wild eyes, the way you nod your head against the mattress. You’re such a good girl for him, taking whatever he’ll give you, so he does just that. With three fingers on the base of his cock, he lets the tip of him push inside you, just enough that the head of his cock is nestled inside you, and he knows he’s fucked.
You’re tight and you’re warm and you’re breathing and whimpering for him, and those perfect walls are clenching around him so right and so good that it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove his cock all the way in and damn you both to hell.
“Jesus girl,” He breathes, one hand clutching at your hip to hold you still, “Fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”
You don’t speak back to him, it’s all you can do to lie and try not to writhe too much as he starts his shallow thrusts. The head of his cock popping from your wet cunt and then being sucked back in so perfectly. He’s had his fair share of women since Sarah went to college and he knows he’s a lot to take, knows that he knows what he’s doing too, but when he looks down at you, your eyes tilted back in your skull, cunt squeezing him just right, he can’t help but think this is what he’s been missing.
“That good?” He asks, bringing his thumb back to your clit, swirling wetness across it as he continues the shallow thrusts of his hips.
“Want it all,” You grumble, “Can take it all, Joel.”
“Ain’t got a doubt,” He teases, but doesn’t relent, “But we gotta make sure.”
He wants to lean down, wants to cover your body with his own and suck one of your perfect nipples into his mouth, but he knows the minute he does you’ll beg him so nice and he’ll break, so he resists, swirling his thumb across your clit with more purpose now.
“M’gonna-” You choke out, and he knows, he can feel it, the way you’re fluttering and tightening around the head of his cock so perfectly, “Gonna come, Joel.”
“Yeah?” He asks ruefully, “Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He smiling down at you as your mouth drops open, your cunt pulling painfully tight around him, “Go on, you can do it,” He babbles, trying to fight the tightening in his own stomach until you’ve come for him, “Come for me, baby.”
And you do, by God you do, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. You whine, a high-pitched kind of thing, eyes clamping shut as you arch your back. There’s more slick around his cock than he’s ever seen before, making it easy for the tip of his cock to ease you through it. The convulsing of your walls around him bring him to his own end, using his last braincell to drag the tip from your cunt and give himself three strokes before the thick ropes of his cum are splashing across your swollen pussy. He watches where they land, painting your skin as his own as his head tips back and breathes a sigh of relief.
He know’s he should stop, but there’s something mesmerising about the mix of his cum and your own, the way he’s dripping down you and onto his sheets. His shuffles down a little and leans forward, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open, before he uses his tongue to gather the mess down there. He’s slurping at you, tasting your cunt through his cum, gathering as much of the two of you as he can in his mouth.
You’re moaning for him when his tongue flicks a few times at your sensitive bud, but then his body is over yours, weight pressed against you as one of his hands takes your chin, squeezing at your jaw to get you to open your mouth, which you do, gladly.
Joel opens his own mouth, letting his cum, your slick and his spit drop from his own into your waiting mouth. He doesn’t give you a minute to swallow anything, his tongue mixing with yours in a kiss that is messy and obscene. He can feel your hips against his own, your hot cunt pressing against him. If he was younger, he’d pin you down and fuck you again, this time for real, but all he can do is pull away.
“Swallow it,” He orders, closing your mouth and watching the bob of your throat as you do what he says, producing your tongue for him, “Good fuckin’ girl.”
He unceremoniously collapses onto the bed next to you, arm over his eyes as he tries to recover some semblance of composure. He can feel your body next to his, shuffling a little closer, and then he can hear you stifling a laugh and then before long, it’s not stifled, it’s full on laughter. He takes his arm from his eyes and looks at you, and can’t help but start laughing himself, until his ribs hurt and you’ve calmed down enough, your body draped across his in the mid-afternoon glow.
“This is bad, huh?” You whisper, fingers dancing through the smattering of hair across his chest.
“Terrible, really.” He responds.
“I’m sure though,” And he holds you a little tighter at that, “Next time, I want the whole thing.”
“Don’t worry baby,” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “You can have whatever you want next time.”
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sayruq · 5 months
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Amid Israel’s ongoing genocidal war on Gaza, maternal healthcare faces excruciating challenges. Deliberate and systematic Israeli attacks on hospitals and medical centers, and critical shortages of humanitarian aid, including medicine, have created a crisis that is endangering the lives of both mothers and newborns. The situation is critical. There are an estimated 50,000 pregnant women in Gaza and some 180 births every day. Israel’s decision in October to prevent food, water, fuel and electricity from entering Gaza created a desperate situation. Inadequate nutrition, exposure to cold and hot weather, the absence of clean water, and poor sanitation weigh heavily on the wellbeing of women and children. The circumstances force them to consume contaminated water, heightening the peril of dehydration and waterborne diseases, particularly among vulnerable groups such as expectant mothers, new mothers and young children. Fuel shortages and the constrained capacity of the few remaining medical facilities exacerbate the difficulty for women in labor to access hospitals. Um Amin, a mother with a few children, confronted with the harsh reality of displacement, recounted her family’s struggles during Israel’s aggression. As bombs relentlessly fell on their neighborhood, reducing their home to rubble, Um Amin had to seek refuge at a school run by the UN agency for Palestine refugees (UNRWA) in the northern Gaza Strip taking only very few belongings. She was pregnant. And in the school there was little by way of basic necessities such as clean water, food or even clothes for her children. She considered moving south, where food might be a little more accessible. Her husband refused, causing conflict between them.He feared not being able to return. And while she believed that the Israeli army was attempting to force them to leave, she also felt it was a matter of life and death for her children. “It was heart-wrenching to witness my kids fighting over scraps of bread. My 4-year-old started stashing away bread in his pocket for later. I was shocked. Before the war, I never slept without knowing my children were fed. Now, most of the time, I am certain they never feel satisfied.” Her entire motivation to carry on became a matter of feeding her children She denied herself food for their sake, but had also to remind herself of the child within her. “The baby inside me is also a priority, so I had to eat too.” She found the balancing act incredibly challenging, an unbearable burden of motherhood. “I am going to share something I’ve never told anyone I know: I contemplated suicide to escape the weight of this responsibility.”
After the Israeli army unexpectedly stormed al-Rimal, a Gaza City neighborhood, for a second time, Um Amin panicked and fled again, this time going from the UNRWA school to a relative’s house. But her fear caused her to enter preterm labor. A doctor, at the nearby al-Sahaba medical center, had to resort to a cesarean section. It was hell, Um Amin said. There was insufficient anesthesia and she could feel the scalpel cutting into her body. There was no electricity; the doctor had to use a handheld flashlight to see. Um Amin’s cries of pain could not drown out the crashing of shells around her. The operation left her utterly drained. She couldn’t believe she was still alive.She needed nourishment to recover what she had lost during the bleeding and to breastfeed her son. But hunger was stalking Gaza. Food was scarce, there was no white flour in the markets, and Israel was blocking aid trucks from entering the north. “All I had to eat was bread made from animal feed and water. When I had my other children, I relied on foods rich in animal proteins, but it was impossible this time. The price of meat was five times higher than normal.” Unable to adequately breastfeed her child, she had to find infant formula. But the price was multiple times higher than it used to be and more than she could afford. Eventually, she was forced to buy formula that was past its expiry date. “You might blame me, but there was literally no other option. I didn’t have enough money. It wasn’t clumped together, so the doctor told me it could still be used.” She would never find out. Due to the lack of clean water, she prepared the milk with non-potable water from a well. The baby refused to drink.
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astrosamara · 13 days
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Moon Sign Observations
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Observations from a Pisces Moon :) All these opinions come from my own personal experiences with the different moon signs, so it might not apply to everyone. Various aspects to the moon and house placement can also change interpretation and expression of that moon sign.
Aries ☾
They hate wasting time. When they make their mind up on something, they don't like to sit around and contemplate on it, they want to go after it right away. Super action oriented. I love being around Aries moon's, even if our energy levels can be quite incompatible. I've also seen so many Aries moons that stand up against bullying and root for the underdogs. They can be great in leadership positions. Even with their competitive nature, I feel like they're the moon signs who want to see everyone win, especially the people that they love.
Taurus ☾
I haven't met many Taurus moon's, the one's I have met though always seem to be super big on luxury items and comfort. They can live beyond their means sometimes because they just want to have the best of the best. I've noticed this more frequently in younger Taurus moons though. Very beautiful people who seem to always look good without trying hard and can have a very strong interest in beauty and fashion. They can also be SUPER stubborn over their opinions and can be pretty closed off to hearing what other people have to say.
Gemini ☾
Deeply fascinating minds. It's hard to pin Gemini moons down and they tend to live a double life. You can think you're really close to a Gemini moon, but there can be so much about them you still don't know. Excellent communicators that tend to be lighthearted and funny in conversations. They think deeply about life and I know many Gemini moon's that are insomniacs because they have a hard time shutting down their busy minds. They also tend to have a wide variety of interests and are incredibly smart in any area they apply themselves in. Incredibly analytical and perceptive.
Cancer ☾
I feel like I've met more Cancer moons than any other moon sign. They just appear to be everywhere in my life lol. Very caring and sensitive people. A lot of them wear their heart on their sleeves. They tend to be the mother friend of their friend groups and this sensitive energy can often be taken advantage of by people who only want to use them as their therapist. I've also noticed many people tend to baby Cancer moons and don't hold them accountable for some of their more toxic behaviors. They also have an energy about them that makes people feel safe and comfortable around them almost instantly. Strangers will just start telling them their life story and want to open up to them.
Leo ☾
Leo moons are LOUD, especially when they're comfortable. They also tend to have a very lively and radiant aura to them. Unfortunately, I know a lot of Leo moons that can be a little too self involved to the point that they're uninterested in the people around them. They love having attention on themselves and can become upset if they feel like they don't have that attention. They like to put on a show with their emotions and express themselves in a theatrical manner. I wish I had more positive experiences with Leo placements in general, but I haven't tbh. I will say though that I love how open and expressive they are with their love towards others. Rarely are they emotionally cold and distant, which is refreshing to be around.
Virgo ☾
HUGE worriers. Feeling like they need to be perfect in order to be accepted by themselves and by others. Can stress themselves out to the point of sickness. Underdeveloped Virgo placements in general tend to have very fragile egos and crave external validation to an unhealthy extent. They can struggle with intrinsic motivation, because they don't see the point of doing something unless they're rewarded or praised. I haven't met very many Virgo moons in my life, mostly Virgo suns, but I feel like this would be one of the more challenging moon placements to have. Frequent overthinking and anxiety, similar to that of a Gemini moon. I feel like Virgo's are much more hard on themselves though than Gemini's.
Libra ☾
Super charming and flirty people. They crave beauty, peace, and harmony in their lives. They tend to have a natural way with people and can have many friends throughout their lives. Libra moons are just very friendly and polite people overall. I've found that Libra tends to be more happy in the moon than in the sun, which is why Libra moons can have stronger positive Libra qualities. Similar to Taurus moons, they tend to be very beautiful people with a strong interest in beauty and fashion. Unlike Taurus moons though, Libra moons have a strong disinterest in conflict and fighting. Due to their strong desire to keep the peace, they can probably easily fall into habits of people pleasing and not speaking up for themselves.
Scorpio ☾
I'm in love with Scorpio moons. Incredibly emotionally intelligent and aware individuals. They go through a lot of dark shit in their lives, but they really know how to grow from their pain and transform with it. I've never met a Scorpio moon that didn't have this intense and magnetic presence to them. I've found them to be much more intense than Scorpio suns (being one myself) because this tends to be a really challenging moon placement to have. They have a very dark and deep inner world and they grow accustomed to carrying a lot of pain with them in their daily lives. There's also a very painful and strong desire for intimacy and to feel deeply understood that could stem from a difficult childhood. They have a strong disinterest in superficiality and their intuition guides them heavily throughout their life. If you meet a Scorpio moon that is emotionally healthy and healed, they probably went through hell to get to that place of contentment in their life.
Sagittarius ☾
Super funny people. Being a Jupiter ruled moon sign, they have very expansive and limitless minds, which they have in common with Pisces moons. Freedom to express themselves and their individuality is super important for them. Usually a very strong connection to spirituality and a strong interest in learning about other cultures through traveling. I've found that with many Sagittarius moons, people really want to listen to them and hear what they have to say. People see them as a wise guru. They also have a tendency to struggle with commitment and being tied down to anything or anyone (I've found this to be more true for people with heavy mutable energy in their charts overall).
Capricorn ☾
I've rarely met a Capricorn moon that I didn't like. Very loving people that like to take care of the people closest to them. They can struggle pretty intensely, especially younger people with this placement, with a fear of failure and never reaching their full potential. They can have this innate sense of responsibility and structure as a connection to their emotional fulfillment. Capricorn isn't happy in this moon sign, so emotions can be quite challenging for them to navigate. Even though they don't like expressing their emotions openly, when they do, they can express it in a very beautiful and poetic way. There's a lot of singers with this moon placement that have songs with deeply emotional and impactful lyrics.
Aquarius ☾
Aquarius moon's often get described as emotionless or cold, but they actually feel quite deeply. The problem is they intellectualize their emotions more than they actually feel them. I've also noticed they can shut down or feel distant and uncomfortable when they witness other people be emotional around them. This is a moon placement I truly feel for. They can feel incredibly different from the people around them and their feelings can frequently be misunderstood by others. A lot of deep emotional loneliness with this moon sign. I've noticed this to be a common "black sheep" placement, more so than with other Aquarius placements. They have very beautiful and unique souls with a strong interest in bettering society. Very humanitarian.
Pisces ☾
Pisces moon's tend to have strong connections to their grandparents from a young age, or older people in general. They also tend to be into grandma or grandpa activities because they feel like such an old soul lol. Might feel a disconnect from their generation and modern trends. I've noticed many Pisces moon's have these dreamy and sparkling eyes that appear to be filled with magic. They tend to have a very powerful connection to music and they're the type to just be huge music lovers in general, connecting to the vibes of music overall, instead of having a specific genre they listen to. Can be heavily addicted to isolation as a coping mechanism when life gets too overwhelming. Reality can feel very limiting and restrictive for them, which is why I think it's so important for Pisces moon's to have creative and fulfilling outlets (especially during this Saturn in Pisces transit that has definitely been testing them. I know it has for me lol).
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hgfictionwriter · 20 days
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Jackpot
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: You and Jessie place a bet - neither of you think the other can survive a month without sex. Winner gets to have their way with the other.
Warnings: G!P smut. Edging/teasing, masturbation, cunnilingus, marathon sex, unprotected/risky sex, breeding/preg kink.
A/N: I combined a few requests to write this fic. It's LONG. Hopefully still good though. Hope you enjoy.
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“You are so handsy tonight,” you laughed as Jessie wrapped her arms around your waist while you cleaned up after dinner.
“I can’t help it if you’re attractive,” Jessie reasoned, unbothered.
You pushed your hips back into her, giving a purposeful roll of them and bit back a smug smirk at the low groan that came from her.
“And you do things like that,” she complained before giving you a slow, teasing kiss at the nape of your neck, causing a shiver to go down your spine.
You tucked your head down, raising your shoulder and pulling away slightly, snickering at how she let out a noise of disappointment.
“I have to finish cleaning up. And I have to finish some work tonight. I can’t get,” you paused to give her an amused, but pointed look, “distracted.”
Jessie grumbled furthermore, resting her head heavily on your shoulder.
You turned in her arms, wrapping yours around the back of her neck now and not able to help yourself from smiling as her pout slowly transformed into a small smile. You gently rolled yourself against her and bit the inside of your lip at how her eyes drifted shut at the action. You loved even more how you could feel her starting to grow hard against you.
“Don’t get me wrong,” you said, a slight lilt in your voice, “I love how hot we are for each other.” You smirked, reaching between your bodies and gently rubbing her through her pants. “And how hard you get for me.”
“But?” Jessie asked, forcing herself to open her eyes and look at you as you teased her.
“But nothing,” you shrugged. A thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t entirely hold back your laugh. She frowned at you in question.
“[Y/friend] was talking about ‘No nut November’ and,” you looked her up and down rather smugly, “I’m not sure you’d be able to make it.”
Jessie’s jaw dropped, blatantly affronted by the accusation.
“Are you serious?” She asked, holding her hands up in defense. You leaned in, trying to give her an appeasing kiss on the check but she dodged it. “No. No, you don’t get any kisses after that.” You laughed and gave her an apologetic look.
“I was just teasing,” you said.
“No,” Jessie said, folding her arms across her chest though a smirk now crossed her lips. “You weren’t kidding. You think I’m just horned up and can’t behave myself? We’ll see about that,” she went on rather haughtily. “You’re just as bad as me.”
You narrowed your eyes at her playfully. “Really now.”
“Really. I bet that you can’t go a month without us having sex,” Jessie challenged, head held high.
“Oh my god,” you said, rolling your eyes before mimicking her body language. “I bet you can’t either. One month, no sex.” You tapped your chin in contemplation. “We can masturbate once a week; we’ll just have to do that on the honour system.”
Jessie chuckled. “And what does the winner get?”
“Whatever kind of sex they want,” you said as you cocked your head. You held up a hand, “Within reason. It has to be consensual, of course, but you get the idea.”
“I do,” Jessie said before holding out her hand. “Deal.” You took her hand and gave it a shake.
“Deal.”
—————
To say the following weeks were a challenge would be a massive understatement. You’d gone in rather confident, thinking of all the ways you’d tease Jessie, but you didn’t anticipate how she’d tease you back.
There were many close calls. For both of you. And if it was anyone other than Jessie, you probably would’ve laughed off the bet, but as with anything else in her life, she was taking it very seriously.
You learned the night the bet was made, in fact, how seriously she was taking it. You’d gotten into bed after her and scooched up against her, your ass on her hips and nestled in. Immediately, she grunted and shifted back, a totally foreign reaction to you. You complained and pulled her arm around your waist to spoon you.
“I just want to cuddle,” you said. But that was quickly disproved when you began to grind back against her. She’d jerked away and grumbled something about you not playing nice and went to sleep on the other side of the bed.
The next morning, Jessie went out for a run and when she came back she put on a bit of a show, though she’d never admit it, but she knew damn well it would drive you wild.
She came into the bedroom, you still lying in bed, and lifted up her shirt to wipe the sweat off her face. She was well aware of your eyes on her sweat covered abs.
When she took off her shirt, she let down her hair and pushed it back, her biceps flexing as she did so and she turned to speak to you, arms still flexed. She made up some excuse to reach for something across the bed, reaching over you, her sweaty, sexy body brushing against you.
She nonchalantly went about her routine, closing out with coming to speak to you fresh from her shower, a towel held precariously in front of her cock, but the rest of her body on display.
“That’s your one for the week,” she said pointedly with a knowing smirk at the end of your conversation. She turned to leave, your cheeks reddening as she walked away. Guess you weren’t as quiet and discrete as you thought you were when she was in the shower.
The days carried on like that. Some flirtations subtle, like a hand brushing against a thigh or a waist. You wearing sexy underwear and make sure she got a glimpse. Some less subtle. Like when she not so subtly came out to the couch and sat down in boxers and a sports bra, legs spread and hands behind her head as you watched a show.
You reciprocated by turning to her, kissing her on the shoulder and down her chest, pulling an unfiltered glare from her. Undeterred, you looked down at the subtle bulge that was beginning to form in her boxers and sat back up and began to pull your hair back into a ponytail.
You forced yourself to not react as she watched you steadily, almost a sense of disbelief on her face before you sat back and returned to watching your show. You snickered at the frustrated exhale she released.
The worst of all was when you’d been out with friends one night and your hand wandered as Jessie drove you back home. She’d complained about how that wasn’t fair and was a borderline violation. You stopped, but you didn’t recall rules around words.
“God, baby. I’m dripping wet for you. My panties are soaked because I want your hard cock inside of me so badly. I want to feel you stretching me out, my needy pussy wrapping tightly around you. I want your hips slamming into me as you fill me up so good again and again.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Jessie said chastising, though by the look of the growing tent in her pants, in arousal as well. “That’s not allowed.”
“Dirty talk wasn’t included in the rules,” you argued.
“It’s simulating sex though, so it’s against the rules,” Jessie argued.
“What are you going to do, baby?” You asked as you eyed her. “I know you already got yourself off earlier this week. Want me to take care of you?”
“No,” Jessie said curtly, her grip tightening on the steering wheel while she pulled into your parkade.
She got out of the car in a huff and you stifled a laugh as she rounded the car, her erection obvious as her pants stretched tightly across her.
You were about to make a smart remark when she pushed you against the car and ground herself into you as she met you in a heated, hard kiss. Though surprised, a moan worked its way up your throat as she bent her knees and pushed her hips up and into you, the firmness in her pants pressing against your heat and causing an immediate reaction in you.
You made out, shamelessly grinding against one another.
“You can take me upstairs, you know,” you offered.
“Are you asking me to?” Jessie asked between kisses.
“No,” you forced yourself to say. “I’m just saying you can if you like.”
“No can do, babe,” she said with a crooked grin. “As much as I want to, that’d be admitting defeat. Not going to happen. But if you want me to carry you upstairs and pound you until you’re screaming my name, your legs shaking as you cum all over my cock, I’d love to.”
You whined, your knees almost growing weak at the visual, but you found your resolve and turned her down.
The challenges escalated that night until you mutually decided to call a truce and stop teasing each other. It was an uncomfortable time for both of you coming down off of your arousal without any real relief, but stubbornness won out.
You were about a week away from the month being over when Jessie and you were on the couch watching a show together, you cuddled in next to her with her hand on your thigh. Her hand gently caressed you, very slowly moving higher until you shot her a look of warning.
“No?” She asked, a glint in her eye. “Is it getting you worked up?” You grumbled.
“You know it is,” you said as you nudged her.
“That’s too bad,” she said lightly. “I like touching you, knowing how you’re getting wet as you start thinking about my fingers or my cock or tongue in you.”
“Babe,” you scolded.
“And too bad you already used up your one pass for the week already,” she said with a fake look of apology. “I, however, have not. And, what can I say, thinking about you gets me worked up, too.”
She glanced down, drawing attention to the bulge starting to form in her pants. Before you could think of what to do or say, she undid her pants, shimmying them down her legs until she was clad in her boxers.
Your jaw dropped. Was she going to do what you thought she was? Jessie had never masturbated in front of you. By the time you looked up at her she had a faint blush on her face, but it was overshadowed by a smug smirk as she reached into her boxers and pulled out her swelling cock.
You let out a small exhale and she nipped at your neck.
“What’s wrong, baby?” She asked.
“This can’t be fair,” you told her.
“There’s no rule against it,” she countered as she licked her hand and began to stroke herself up and down. She locked eyes with you. “See what you do to me?”
“Oh God,” you said as your hand came to the back of your neck and rubbed agitatedly.
“How is it making you feel, baby?” She asked. “You seem restless,” she went on as she grew to full length and slowly pumped herself up and down. “I wish this was your hand. Or your mouth,” she said with a look to your lips.
She circled the thick head of her cock with her thumb. “And of course even better if I was slipping inside of your heat. I can practically feel your walls gripping me, pulling me in and massaging me.”
“I thought you said this kind of talk was against the rules,” you said as you squeezed your legs together in a vain attempt to find some relief.
A faint laugh escaped Jessie’s mouth as she nodded towards your lap.
“I know you’re thinking about how good it would feel - me filling you up, so deep inside of you. God,” she picked up her pace, letting her head fall back against the couch, “I can practically hear it. How wet it sounds every time I thrust in and out of you. I love the way you drip down my cock; knowing I made you that wet.”
You watched her, her hips thrusting up into her fist, the visual she painted for you, all the while a cute frown on her face as her cheeks reddened.
This whole bet was ridiculous.
You reached out, placing your hand over hers. She stopped the second you touched and looked over at you in surprise.
“I give up,” you told her. “I don’t care anymore. I want you. I’m so desperate for you.”
She seemed to process your words for a moment before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she smiled.
“Thank god,” she said in blatant relief. Her smile grew as you stood up and began taking your clothes off in a rush. She reached up now and then to help you and took off her clothes fully as well.
"God, you're gorgeous," she breathed as you pushed her back against the couch and were about to straddle her. You let out a small squeal of surprise when she flipped you so you were sitting and she was on top, swiftly dropping to her knees in front of you. She locked eyes with you and pushed your legs apart.
"Oh fuck yeah," she said appreciatively as her eyes fell to your dripping wet entrance. "God, I've missed you so much," she said, her shoulders falling as she spoke.
She reached under your legs, her arms hooking under your thighs and she pulled you to the edge of the couch. Not bothering with her typical teasing or foreplay, she buried her face in your slick folds right away and lapped hungrily at you, drawing a cry from you immediately. You clawed desperately at the couch moments in, the feel of her tongue and mouth on you something you'd been craving for weeks and been denied.
"Oh my God, Jess," you panted. "That feels so good," you breathed as she rocked her face into you and sucked on your clit.
You bucked your hips up into her as she tended to you with a determination and drive that had you peaking within a few short minutes. She licked and sucked and it sounded messy and wet, and it felt so incredibly good.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum already," you said, your face tensing up as your impending orgasm approached. She simply moaned and continued to care for you, her attention not wavering in the least.
Inevitably, your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your thighs flexed around her head and your hips jerked erratically up into her. It was so intense that any moan was caught in your throat and came out a strangled whimper instead.
When Jessie came up for air, she wiped her face with a shirt off the floor, rest her arms across your thighs and leaned up to kiss you. You languidly kissed her back, still finding your way through your post-bliss haze.
"I won the bet, right?" You heard her say as she settled back onto her heels. You slowly opened your eyes to see her looking at you curiously. You gave a nod.
“Yeah, I hate to admit it, but you did,” you said with a wry chuckle. You gave her a small smirk. “Which means,” you sat up, cupping her face and kissing her slowly, “you get to have your way with me.”
You watched as Jessie immediately grew flushed, her gaze flicking away momentarily. You cocked your head at her and couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What? Isn’t it a good thing?”
“It’s not necessary. It was just a fun bet. There’s no need. I didn’t have anything in mind,” Jessie went in to kiss you and you allowed it, but pulled back shortly.
“Wait. That can’t be true. You held on for that long, that determinedly, with nothing in mind?” You asked skeptically.
“Yeah, I'm competitive,” Jessie reiterated though the deeper shade of her cheeks and nervous smile told you there was more to it. You narrowed your eyes at her.
“Babe. Just tell me. I want to know,” you insisted. She didn’t immediately reject your request, but shied away still. You implored further. “Come on. Please. I want to know. And who knows? Maybe I wanted the same!”
“I doubt that,” Jessie returned with no hesitation. Now you were really curious.
“Well now you definitely have to tell me,” you said.
She looked away and chewed the inside of her cheek before huffing quietly and running a hand through her hair. She eventually looked back at you, holding your gaze but remaining wordless.
“Please tell me,” you urged softly as you cupped her face and thumbed her cheeks gently with one hand, but grasped her length with the other and stroked slowly. Her eyes closed momentarily before she held your gaze for a few long seconds and spoke.
“You can say ‘no’. Please know that. I 100% won’t mind. I only want to do it if you’re into it, too.” She waited for you to acknowledge her and you gave a nod. “I want to be inside of you, but…” her gaze flit about, “no condom.”
“Oh,” you said, many tones in one. She immediately looked concerned and you head her off. “That’s all?”
She frowned. “Yeah? I mean. It’s risky - you’re not on birth control. And I mean, I could pull out! But I know that’s still risky, so I totally get it if you aren’t comfortable."
“That sounds hot to me,” you responded, not needing long to think and she looked suspicious.
“Seriously?”
“Mmhmm,” you voice as you scooted to the edge of the cushion. You grabbed her hand and placed it between your legs, ensuring her fingers came into contact with the wetness that was already starting to form again.
“In case you need convincing,” you whispered in her ear. She groaned and her fingers began to massage you.
Her cock twitched when she felt how wet you were. She rose up onto her knees, grasping your ass and pulling you even further off the cushion. You let out a small yelp, but laughed as she smirked at you and began rubbing her cock up and down the length of your slit.
“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so much,” she said as she watched the way your lips parted as she pushed through your folds and over your clit. You spied the bead of precum that had formed at the tip of her cock over the past few minutes. You moaned.
“I need you inside of me,” you told her. She glanced up at you, pausing for a second before lining up the head of her length at your entrance. She watched intently as she shifted her hips forward ever so slowly, biting her lip as she watched the way you gradually stretched out around her, accommodating her width.
“God, you look so amazing taking me like this,” she said as she remained focused on the visual before her. Her mouth fell into an ‘O’ as she pushed inside and felt your walls surround her.
“Oh god,” she said, her forehead creasing in a frown, “you feel so incredible. I missed being inside of you. And you feel beyond amazing like this. Even better than I imagined. Holy fuck.”
It didn’t necessarily feel different to you, but just the thought and understanding that she was in you bare brought things to a whole other level. You pushed your head back into the couch and pulled her by the waist further into you.
“Fuck, babe,” she said with a light chuckle as you caused her to bottom out. “Jesus, slow down or I’m going to bust right away.”
You grinned and pulled her down into a kiss and rolled your hips against her.
Soon, Jessie had you half reclined on the couch, your legs wrapped around her waist as she pumped into you. The room was soon filled with whimpers and cries from you coupled with moans and grunts from her. The sounds of her hips bouncing off of you along with the sounds that came each time she thrust in and out of your wet tunnel were intoxicating.
“Hear how much I missed you? How much I need you?”
“Jesus Christ,” she grunted as she gripped your hips. “Fuck, I’m close already,” she said as she screwed her eyes shut.
She let out a quick exhale and wrapped her arms around you, one under you and another up along your back as she hoisted you off the couch and carried you into the kitchen, remaining inside of you. She kissed you as she set you down on the counter.
She held herself still as she played with your clit and kissed your neck. You flexed around her subconsciously and she groaned against your skin.
“Fuck, just being inside you is too good.”
When you were getting close she began to pull her hips back, drawing out to the tip before thrusting to the hilt once more.
“Baby, I’m so close,” you told her as you clutched her to you.
“Me too,” she panted as she pumped into you, having to pull you back towards her on the counter now and then from the force of her thrusts. She pumped into you a few times more before speaking again. “I can pull out.”
You dug your nails into her skin.
“Or not,” you said. Her pace faltered and she leaned back to look at you. You went on. “I want you to cum inside of me.”
“Oh fuck, babe,” she said, eyes shutting as she spoke. “Don’t tease.”
“I’m not. I want you to finish in me,” you told her.
She grunted, her fingers gripping your hips. “And…what if something, you know, happens?”
“Then, we can cross that bridge when we get there.” She watched you wordlessly and you smiled. “Honestly? It’s even hotter knowing that it’s all being left up to chance. That you’re so hot for me right now that you want nothing more than to spill yourself inside of me.”
“Jesus,” she said, her eyes rolling into her head before she screwed them shut. “That’s so sexy. God, I want to cum as deep inside of you as I can.”
“Then do it,” you said as you pulled her in for a kiss. The kiss broke off a few moments later as Jessie’s body tensed up as she pushed up into you, her hips rutting into you as a few short groans fell from her lips. She held herself tight against you as she pumped her cum into you.
Eventually, she drew her hips back and gave a few slow thrusts. She looked down at where your bodies were joined and her mouth fell agape in wonder.
“Holy,” she said as she saw a mixture of her cum and yours pooled around the base of her cock and the edge of your lips. The strings of cum stretched along her cock with every stroke. “This looks so fucking amazing, babe.”
She continued to slowly pump in and out of you, mesmerized by what she was seeing until she softened and fell out of you.
You spread your legs further, inviting her to watch as you reached down and rubbed her cum through your lips and circled your clit. You dipped two fingers inside of you. When you withdrew them they were coated in cum and you locked eyes with her as you brought them to your mouth and sucked them clean.
“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed with a laugh of appreciation. She ran a hand through her hair before rushing in to kiss you hard. You wrapped your legs around her once more and she began to grind herself against your core again. It wasn’t long before you felt her start to grow hard against you.
“God, I need you again,” she moaned into your heated kiss.
“So take me,” you said. Her chest rumbled as she lifted you off the counter and carried you over to the wall, pinning you against it before filling you in one swift motion.
A cry fell from your lips and she chuckled smugly into your neck as she began to rock herself in and out of you.
“I want to cum inside you again. Make you mine. Claim you all over this apartment,” she panted.
“Fuck, Jess,” you said as you clawed at her back. “You feel incredible inside of me. Make me yours.”
Soon, she had you bouncing up and down on her cock, your back rubbing roughly against the wall as she fucked you silly. Her fingers dug into the underside of your thighs and you knew she’d leave bruises but it turned you on even more.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to take you like this? No barrier - just you and me,” she said. “And God, it’s been impossible not fucking you these past few weeks. I’ve never wanted someone so badly. You’re so perfect.”
You moaned needily, each thrust causing your moan to stutter as her hips slammed into you.
“I can feel our cum dripping down my leg, baby. God, it’s so messy and I love it.”
“Fuck,” you hissed as you started cumming over her cock again. You tore up her back, which she’d give you heck for once you were both out of your lust-filled frenzy.
She grunted and clutched you tighter as she started to cum in you once more, her cock pulsing as she spilled rope after rope of cum in you.
She pressed you into the wall as she drained herself into you before gently lowering you both to the floor.
Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath and Jessie did the same. She eventually rolled off of you, a soft popping noise coming as she withdrew from you. You heard her chuckle softly.
“We are making an absolute mess,” she said, her smugness thinly veiled as you glanced down to see a small pool of cum beneath you where she’d just pulled out. You slapped her shoulder playfully and she laughed further as she laid on her back.
“I know how clean you like the apartment to be, so this really speaks to how horny you are,” you chuckled.
A couple of minutes passed and you sat up, looking down at her as she laid there with her arms behind her head. You straddled her and a crooked grin crossed her face. You kissed your way along her shoulder, up her neck and nipped at her ear before whispering.
“Did I mention that you’re the first person I’ve ever let cum inside me?”
“Oh shit,” Jessie said as her fingers gripped you. “That is so freakin hot. You don’t even know.” She kneaded the juncture between your hips and thighs and looked down at your core. “And I hope it stays that way.”
“Mmm, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that,” you said.
“Yeah? You like me enough to stay?” She teased.
“You like me enough to keep me?” You countered.
“You know I do,” she said. “Sex aside and all. I love you and you know it,” she went on before rolling her hips against you. “And the fact that you get me hard back to back so quickly should tell you something too.”
“Mm,” you voiced as you rocked against her hardening member. “I do love having that effect on you.”
You rose up enough that the tip of her erection jutted against your entrance. You held her gaze as you sat down on it, arching your back at the sensation of her filling you up again.
Soon, you were riding her in the entry way of your apartment, her hands on your breasts as you bounced up and down on her thick cock. Your knees would be red and bruised after, but you really didn’t care in this moment.
At one point she grabbed your hips and started hammering into you from below and you moaned shamelessly at the feel of her stretching you out repeatedly.
“Fuck,” you cursed, eyes shut, your head falling back as she sent jolts of pleasure through your body.
When your legs began to shake from the effort combined with back to back orgasms. She held you in place for a second before nodding for you to get off. You wordlessly obliged, having trouble processing much of anything right now and she got up and carried you to the bedroom.
She shot you a salacious grin as she tossed you onto the bed. She grabbed you by the hips, flipped you over and tugged you up onto your knees as she climbed up behind you. She slapped your ass, the sound erupting across the room before she stroked your clit and lips several times, loving the way you fell onto your forearms with a whimper, ass angled up at her.
Another wanton moan tumbled out your mouth as she mounted you, her cock hitting your g-spot as she filled you.
She reached around and continued to circle your clit as she began to pump in and out of you.
You rolled your head back and forth across your arm as pulse after pulse of pleasure coursed through you as her hips bounced off of you.
She held you up as your legs shook. You felt a different type of pressure and heat building between within your core with every stroke. Your mouth opened several times and you stammered your bliss before it crested and you felt yourself gush against her.
“Fuck,” you managed to say as you squirted, your legs spreading wider as your juices ran down her legs and onto the bed.
“Oh my God, you’re so amazing,” Jessie said in awe, pausing inadvertently as she processed what was happening.
As she saw the pool of arousal on the sheets from you squirting, your heat stretching tightly around her cock, cum from your various rounds coating you both, her mind was in a total haze. She wrapped an arm underneath you and pulled you sharply against her, grabbing your shoulder with her other hand and started fucking you with abandon.
You felt pleasure and tension building again already as she railed you from behind. You were going to be so sore the next day, but it felt incredible.
“I’m going to pump you so full,” Jessie panted. “Fucking you so good you won’t ever want another cock.”
You wanted to respond, but you couldn’t formulate any words. All you could do was moan as you buried your face into the bed and bundled up the sheets in your fists.
“I love you so much,” she said, voice shuddering in exertion. “I’m only ever going to fuck you like this again. My cum leaking out of you as I keep fucking you raw. So if you don’t want to have my baby, we better get you some birth control.”
She grunted as her hips continued to slap into you, causing your body to jostle further into the mattress.
“I would offer to get snipped, but I want you to have my baby someday. So…”
You whined and you white knuckled the sheets even more. Her pace picked up and her whimpers rose in pitch.
“Here it comes,” she said before letting out a short yell as she doubled over you, pressing you into the mattress as she came impossibly hard inside of you, despite it being her third orgasm of the night.
She grunted a couple more times as her cock twitched inside of you. She laid heavy on top of you as you both lay there sweaty and spent.
“Oh fuck,” she eventually said as she rolled off of you. “Best bet I ever won,” she breathed.
538 notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 9 months
Text
Mafia!Price warm up because I am… so tired. I’ve had back-to-back events the last few days and ya bitch canNOT hang. So, while I rehydrate and wait for caffeine to work it’s magic, here’s this:
Part 1 here
No Content Warnings
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Mr. Price is the best boss you’ve ever had. He’s straightforward and blunt, but unfalteringly courteous. Likes things a certain way — his own way — but that’s nothing you’re unfamiliar with from rich men responsible for billions. At very least, he seems to respect when you challenge him.
“We’ve always done records this way,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” you answer serenely, “but that was before you had me.”
He stares you down and you beam right back, tablet balanced on your forearm. One beat, two. In the corner of your eye, you see Gaz shift. You tilt your head at your boss.
He sits back in his big office chair, thumb swiping over his index and middle fingers. A gesture you’ve been mentally cataloguing as “contemplative” — perhaps deciding if he’s annoyed or amused. You don’t let yourself get nervous seeing it; you’re good at your job and you know it. He’s going to know it too, by god.
“And what do you have to do with it, luv?”
Your smile stretches wider as you take that as an invitation to round his desk. He turns and shifts a bit to make room for you, eyebrows ticking up as you set a neatly paper-clipped report in front of him, highlighted for convenience.
“See here?” You point at one section, a list of finance records. “Inconsistencies that the accountants took two months to notice. Two!”
He grunts as you set it aside, face up, for further perusal and then show him the next set. Different highlighter (and a smiley face in the corner).
“And look here, doing it this way, we noticed the discrepancies within a week,” you explain.
He picks up the page, eyes scanning over it thoroughly before setting it down. Taps his index finger over the discrepancy (circled in bright red) twice.
“Would you happen to have the account — ah, thank you.”
You hum, smoothing the sticky note (hot pink, shaped like a heart) onto the page. “So what do you think, sir?”
He runs a hand down his face, palm rasping over his beard. But there is a grateful note to his gaze as he glances at you.
“We’ll be doing it this way from now on, then.”
“Thrilling, sir. I’ll send out a memo.”
He waves you off, frown already forming on his face. You politely leave his office, stop by the break room to make a fresh cup of tea (a dollop of cream only, no sugar) and knock on the closed door. It’s Gaz that opens it.
“For the boss,” you say. “Before heads start rolling.”
“You’re a doll,” he breathes, accepting the cup and slipping back inside.
You happily toddle back to your desk and begin calling appointment confirmations. You’ve got about a million emails and a hundred calls to make.
Working for Price also comes with some… eccentricities. For one, you have a driver now.
Usually Farah, sometimes her partner Alex. On the rare occasion it’s Gaz. They always usher you into the backseat. On rainy days (so, most days in the UK) they hold an umbrella over your head while you scurry into the luxury leather interior of whatever stupidly expensive ride you’re taking.
That was a non-negotiable when you and Mr. Price discussed the details of your employment contract with him. Something about safety…? You feel silly being driven to work as an assistant, but it was your first encounter with the Steel Gaze of Decision and it was unfortunately effective.
Not that you mind the rides! All three of your usual drivers are wonderful. So friendly and chatty. You love hearing about Alex’s niece and Farah’s hobbies, Gaz’s little “spats” with Soap. You spoil them with extra treats from whatever bakery you make them stop at for morning breakfast. (Always local, you love supporting small businesses and strong arm Price into doing so as well).
There’s the gun as well. You’ve only seen it once or twice, always discreetly hidden under his suit jacket. A shoulder holster, all black. Pretend that you don’t see it because… well, you’re not entirely sure it’s legal and you’d rather live in the blissful cloud of plausible deniability.
And speaking of — there’s his bodyguard. To be fair, bodyguards aren’t a new or weird presence with your bosses. Expensive men, they need protection. Ghost is a different kind though.
He always covers the lower half of his face — actually, he’s covered head to toe. Usually in black, sometimes with little skeleton or skull motifs. And he’s fucking big, which is saying something because Mr. Price isn’t a small man either.
Ghost hardly interacts with you, but he’s unfailingly polite when he does. Not talkative, but he holds doors for you, has walked you down to the car. Even once attitude-checked a guest that decided to be rude to you. Didn’t even say anything, just walked into the guy’s personal bubble and stared him down until he subsided. Then he turned, gave you a nod, and you squeezed his arm before toddling off to let Price know his appointment had arrived.
All around the vibes in the office are pleasant, if sometimes stuffy. A little odd. All of his employees are polite if not kind to you, and Price himself is a fair and reasonable man — at least with you.
(The first time you heard him raise his voice through the closed office door nearly scared the daylights out of you. He always uses a low, even tone when speaking to you, so to hear his voice booming like that was something of a shock. Even more shocking was when he opened the door — damn near throwing his “guest” out — before turning to you.
“Call Farah when you have a mo’, would you?” He asked, calm as you please.
You blinked, still having war flashbacks of your last boss. “Yes, sir.”
“Cheers, luv.”)
There’s also the “field trips” as you call them.
Mr. Price is something of a very “hands on” businessman (“micromanager” you tease when he’s in a good mood) who has a hand in several industries. One of them is shipping. Which means that sometimes you find yourself standing beside him in warehouses or at loading docks. And of course you have to go, you’re his assistant! You take meeting notes, provide information or report details. Basically act as his second brain while he reams out idiots or organizes plans.
You suck it up, but you rather hate the smell of low tide. And the occasional gusts of blood on the sea breeze from fishermen gutting their catches. Price catches you looking ill once or twice and at least makes an effort to keep things short after that.
“Poor thing,” Soap teases when you’re in the back of the car, fussing at your wind-swept hair. “Get a bit blown, did you?”
“MacTavish,” Price snaps.
That’s the other thing. Even the slightest hint of suggestive or inappropriate words at your expense are met with firm, almost harsh, reprimand from your boss. It does wonders for you nerves and your respect for him.
“Wish I’d known we were going to the docks,” you sigh, carefully picking at pins to fix your hair. “I would have used more hairspray.”
“Thought I told you?” Price says.
“No, sir, you did not,” you answer, long-suffering. “You know you can put it into the scheduling app, right?”
He blinks. “Scheduling app.”
You blink back at him. “Oh, dear. Here, look at this.”
You spend the entire ride back to the office showing him how your scheduling software works so that you don’t have to deal with any more surprise dock visits.
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lucyrose191 · 10 months
Text
PROTECTIVE SHIELD| K.RÄIKKÖNEN
Pairing: Protective!Kimi x Sunshine!driver!reader
Summary; You always have a smile on your face, even through the struggles of being the only female driver but when it feels like the entire media is against you it’s hard to keep that smile on your face but Kimi won’t allow it to disappear, he’s always there protecting you.
Warnings; fluff, mistreatment of women
F1 Master List
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You had fought to get in the position you were in today and you had done it all with a smile on your face. It was easy back then, when there was less attention on you and less people questioning your every decision or underestimating your talent compared to the other drivers on the grid simply because you weren’t a man.
You were known for your smile, the way it was always present with everyone you spoke to and no matter the question you were asked but people seemed to take it as an invitation to say whatever they wanted as though it had no affect on you.
It didn’t in the beginning.
But as each of the questions piled on top of each other, the strain made it harder to maintain the smile, your struggle was hard to notice because you did such a good job of hiding it but one person did.
Kimi Räikkönen.
Whilst he was quiet, he was observant.
To him only a fool would think your smile was real. There was clearly such a huge difference between you being happy and you pretending to be happy.
There were no more sparkles in your eyes or twitch of your nose and it enraged him.
It was infuriating, knowing that the journalists and media had managed to ruin the pureness in you.
He wasn’t going to allow them to destroy you of everything you were.
You normally didn’t mind the driver’s press conferences but lately they’ve been…. hard.
The questions lately have hardly been about driving, instead about your possible challenges against the other drivers or if you feel as though you’re at a disadvantage.
You don’t. You’ve said countless times that you don’t feel the need to be treated differently in any sense and that you being female added no extra struggles in your opinion.
It seemed the tipping point for Kimi with these questions was when a female journalist asked not only peculiar but disturbing question.
You smiled at the woman as she stood up, thinking you’d get a real question about driving but that smile soon faded as she opened her mouth.
"Hi, this is a question for Y/N. As a woman, I was curious as to whether it’s more difficult for you to finish a race during the time of the month when you’re menstruating?"
You hated it. You hated that just because they’re a woman they think it excuses the questions they’re asking.
Beside you Kimi scoffed loudly, the most noise he’d made during the entire conference. "What sort of fucking question is that?" He stared straight into the woman’s eyes with a face as hard as ice.
The woman seemed taken back by him and started stuttering. "I-well-I was just-"
Kimi shook his head "We’ve been sat in these chairs for half an hour and not a single one of you imbeciles has asked her a real fucking question about the car or the race. All of you have sat there and just questioned her ability to do her job as if any of you know a thing about racing."
Kimi stood up from his seat and gestured for you to get up as well from where you were sitting in pure shock, lips parted and eyes wide you did and followed him out of the room, ignoring the fact that you weren’t meant to be leaving any time soon.
He was raging, he had sat and watched as your smile dimmed with each question; anger building inside until he just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore.
You had to run to catch up with him, he was walking so fast, fuelled by his anger. Your body was still in shock from the way he had spoken and stood up for you but you caught his arm which caused his footsteps to pause.
You looked up at him in silence for a moment, contemplating what to say as he looked down at you with those piercing blue eyes.
"You didn’t have to do that," you settled on saying.
Kimi huffed, glancing away for a short minute before returning his gaze back to you. "I did, I wasn’t going to sit and let them speak to you like that, you deserve better."
You shrugged and smiled weakly "It’s how it’s always been, they’re not going to change and I’ve accepted that."
"You shouldn’t need to," he argued before grumbling under his breath and reaching out to cup your cheeks, keeping his gaze locked with yours. "They’re taking away your smile and I’m not going to let them. You’re beautiful and your smile is beautiful, I’m not letting them take that away from you."
You blinked up at him in shock whilst trying to process his words, raising your own hands up to wrap around his wrists to keep his in place.
Eventually, you smiled and leaned into his touch. "Thank you."
He gave you that half smile you knew so well before pulling you into his embrace "Don’t listen to anything they say, they don’t know you."
You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t let them knock you down, not when you had Kimi there to stand in front of you like a protective shield or hold your hand as you walked through the media storm.
You could do anything with him beside you, you could even keep your smile.
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lcriedlastnight · 2 months
Note
Y/n and Lando have a friendly competition to see who can get more numbers and y/n gets upset when Lando gets the number of someone who actually likes him
omg this is such a great idea, thanks for trusting me to write it anon! ily!
tw: fem! reader, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything else.
w/c: 1.2k
"truth or dare?" lando asks. neither of you are even that drunk so how you had resorted to playing high school party games in the middle of the club was beyond you, all you knew that is if lando wanted you to jump off the nearest bridge you would be pulling up the directions on google maps on your phone seconds later.
"dare" you grin, thinking your choice to be bold, especially when you were playing with lando. your fears are confirmed when he smiles like a cheshire cat at your answer, like it was exactly what he wanted.
"okay well this is kinda a dare for us both, a challenge if you will.." lando trails off as you stand there, drink in hand waiting for him to continue with what was probably going to be a god awful plan or 'challenge' as he called it. you hum out to show you were listening and interested.
"it's simple really, we go around the club and try and see who can get the most numbers, whoever gets the most in the next two hours wins." lando explains. you honestly do not think you have ever heard of a worse game in your life. you guess it does not help if you were in love with your competition. you knew how hard it was seeing lando flirt with random girls in the clubs you had joined him in every weekend or so. you sigh as you contemplate his offer.
"what do i get if i win?" you ask, wanting to make watching the man you were in love with flirt it up with other girls, worth it. it is lando's turn to think as you watch on, desperate for him to decide to call it off, the idea of him getting other girls numbers unsettling, but you knew you could never pull out without hearing the end of it from your opponent.
that smile returns and before you can focus too much on the swirly, fuzzy feeling it creates in your stomach he's speaking up. "the winner gets a whole week of favours from the loser." you probably do not think hard enough about how badly this could end for you before you agree and you are both on your separate ways, hunting for your first victim. you do not feel very comfortable flirting with these random guys, promising to call them and the likes, when you knew that your heart belonged to the stupid boy who had probably only suggested this so he could get girls numbers for when he was lonely.
after an hour you had near enough given up as it felt draining talking to so many men, when none of them even cared enough to ask your name. it was exhausting and this point you knew you just wanted to go home but you knew you still had an hour of this left so you soldier on, continuing your bland and boring conversations with the lamest guys you had seriously ever met.
an hour and a half in and you had only gotten ten phone numbers., you knew as soon as you and lando had counted them up to see who the winner was they would be getting thrown away so you did not really care much to keep them pretty or even safe as you were sure you lost a few navigating through the club crowds.
you had tried not to watch lando jump from girl to girl, most of the time not even having to lay on any charm or anything. you decided in that moment to hate him for the rest of your life. even though you love him it was literally killing you to see this happen right in front of your eyes, and you had no one to blame bar yourself as you had literally encouraged this to happen by agreeing to his stupid dare/ challenge. at this point you had stopped caring about losing and started thinking about how what lando would make you do for the next week straight could never be as bad as watching him throw himself at hundreds of different girls. your eyes are glued to lando as you watch him saunter over to a group of girls, one you could recognise from a million miles away. it was that stupid model that was always liking and commenting on lando's instagram posts. you knew for a fact that she genuinely already had a liking towards lando and the thought of him handing her his number had made you feel sick to your stomach. there was no way in hell you were sticking around to see this one, you were sure this one would be the one that broke you.
you sling the coat that is hanging over your arm around your shoulder and slide your arms into the arms of the jacket before weaving through the crowd to the club exit. you knew lando would probably be going home with blonde model for the night, you heading home by yourself like always. you tried not to be bitter but you were so tired of begging anyone and everything that it would one day be you that lando begs to take home, even for just one night, you would take that over never knowing his touch easily.
you wait for your uber outside in the cold, hearing the noise of the club come and go as the doors to the building open and close as people enter and exit as they please. one of the last times you hear the door open and close you hear footsteps approach you slowly, you cannot even find it in you to be scared because you can tell exactly who it is from the footfall alone, nevermind the overpowering scent that seems to follow you around even after you had left the boys presence.
"y'going home already? cause y'know 've won?" lando teases but you are not in the mood so you fimd it hard to muster up even a fake laugh. lando frowns at you, confused.
"wait what's wrong?" he asks, hand coming to rest on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him.
instead of answering his question you reply "i have an uber coming. it's on its way." lando nods but speaks up again anyway.
"did you not like the game? did someone say something to you?" he presses, his sudden protective nature doing nothing to help the heart eyes you feel forming as you stare at him.
"no one said anything. how many numbers did you get?" you ask. lando frowns at the way you change the conversation, worried for you.
"i didn't get any." he says, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. you furrow your brows in confusion.
"i seen you talk to loads of girls?" you tell him, eyes trailing over his face trying to catch him out in a lie. you could not.
"didn't get any of their numbers though? realised after the first girl i talked to that none of them even held a candle to you, sweetheart." lando smiles as his thumbs trace a path down your cheeks.
"not even that blonde model who liked all of your instagram posts?" you ask, feeling a little insecure because of lando's out of the blue, kinda confession.
"nah, just went around talking about you all night." lando confesses. "i would've came back to you sooner but you know me, can't give up on a challenge first." you roll your eyes at his words. you link your hand with his and pull him to stand beside you to wait for your uber and he does so without a complaint.
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finsplurtz · 4 months
Text
can’t dom — katsuki.bakugou
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— subtop ! male.reader x dombot ! Katsuki Bakugo
— contents : dom!bottom bakugo to sub , riding , challenge lol! overstim , crying , biting , -150 aura
warnings : none that ik of…
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✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
last time you fucked bakugou he tried taking control. you guys were mid fuck when he pounced on you and tried riding you but you quickly regained that control by fucking him into next week.
he wasn’t upset at the moment but afterwards, definitely. he refused to speak to you or even acknowledge you.. but he couldn’t go very far with the silent treatment as he started to crave you again.
“yn why don’t you let me dom.” he asked when you guys were alone.
“well….because you probably suck at it and you won’t make me cum, I have my own pace” you smiled and kissed his cheek while he shoved you away.
“HOW DO YOU KNOW I SUCK AT IT I COULD BE REALLY GOOD.” he yelled at you, you sighed.
“fineee if you really wanna try to, go ahead but I guarantee you won’t be able to make me cum”
“you’ll fucking see you bastard..” he grit his teeth and stormed out of the room.
well this should be erm fun
“I’ll make you eat your words bitch..” said the blonde while he pressed your tip against his hole. you were lying down on your bed with your hands behind your head watching your cute boyfriend try to use you as his fuck toy.
as expected, he was going painfully slow. taking his time. not on purpose… you’re just really big and getting you inside him without your help takes mad time.
“nngh…” he moaned at the stretch, he wasn’t even half way down and you started to contemplate wether or not you should just knock him out and fuck him restlessly, enough that he forgives you for not letting him dominate.
once he FINALLY got you all the way in he was already out of breath and flustered, his hands rested on your abdomen and he looked at your…..unsatisfied face…..
his breath hitched and he grit his teeth.
“I-i can make you…cum..! I won’t stop till you’re..crying from me m-milking you..” he smirked as best as he could, you just smiled at his cuteness, you were fighting the urge to fuck him up right then and there….
He slowly lifted himself up and lowered himself down, his own body already twitching. He’d glance at you to see some sort of reaction but you were just watching it happen, with a nonchalant expression.
His bit the inside of his cheeks and picked up the pace, hitting his own prostate harder and faster drawing nasty whiny moans out of him.
he peeked at you and felt his dick throb at the sight of you panting with furrowed eyebrows. He started getting restless, bouncing on your cock. the sound of skin slapping skin and moans filled the room along with the sweet smell of sex.
“haa…auhn..~ s..sto..” the blonde whined feeling your hands gently caress his milky thighs, he harshly grabbed your hands and placed them above your head as to…….pin you
your boyfriend being shorter than you, he was basically laying on you and gave up on trying to hold your hands back. He continued to fuck himself on your dick, his moans sounded clearer since he was closer to you, he was making this way harder.
“uugh-! Imma c…c..uaahhn~!” He jolted up, his cum spilling on both yours and his stomach. you quietly sighed and pet his head as he was trying to catch his breath.
he was confused but then realized…..you still hadn’t come yet….? he sat up and looked you in the face with an angry expression.
“I…I’m not.. done…” his shaky hands helped him lift himself up and SLAM himself down on your twitching dick, you let out a very small grunt of pleasure and he grinned.
he continued to do that, just slam himself on your length while squeezing around you, it hadn’t even been 40 minutes and this was already taking a lot of out him, you weren’t even close to coming…
he continued to do that for at least 2..and a half hours
by now your dick hurt from it being rubbed on too much, but other than that you were totally fine. Your boyfriend on the other end….. his thighs would twitch out of nowhere, his shaky arms couldn’t even help him lift himself up. Tears stained his frustrated face, a bit of drool slipping out. he’d made a sticky mess downstairs, his cum covered his dick and your stomach, he didn’t have the energy to get it up anymore.
“ugh…w-why won’t you…c-c…cum..” he slowly began to grind on you to maybe get you to cum. The only reason you haven’t taken over was cause well, he asked you not to and he was DETERMINED.
“katsuki, are you done?” you brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. His eyes widened…….you weren’t…close at all..
more tears welled up in his eyes and his lip trembled, you almost felt bad…
you sat up and he squeaked feeling you accidentally hit his sweet spot. “you did well, dear..” you kissed his lips. He was too tired to fight you off, his eyes were starting to flutter shut
“k- katsuki don’t pass out on me…….” you gently tapped his face to keep him awake. He had riled you up, there’s no way you can go to sleep now… but he’d come so many times:(
“fine just…let me..” he gasped as you lifted his ass up and slowly slid him back down, this was like the pace he was going at. you can’t come to this… you began to fuck into him quicker and rougher, his chest rose and fell rapidly as louder moans filled the bedroom.
“UGH FU- STOP S..SLOW D-DOWN—! HURTS..!” he bit your shoulder hardd, you hissed and pushed his back on the bed continuing to fuck him while watching him freak out and lose himself in the pleasure.
“NNH..C..CUM..” his nails digging into your thighs as he twitched and came with a scream. you kept going even after he came, you were close just need a bit more….
“aghh…~! so..so d..deep mhhn”he didn’t struggle anymore, no complaints he just took it. you could hear a bit of a smile behind his moans, you looked at him and he was in pure bliss.
this pushed you over the edge and you let out a pathetic whimper into his ear as you filled him up with your hot liquids.
hair stuck to his forehead and he bit his bottom lip moaning girlishly.
He was trembling crazy, he laughed a little before telling you to fuck him deeper in which you sighed tiredly and pulled out of him. He whined a “noooo” in return, the tiredness coming back to him.
you moved him closer to you and ran your fingers thru his hair to put him to sleep faster. he let out a small “hate you” before knocking out for the next couple hours.
next morning he woke up and started a tantrum
“you lost”
“NO FUCKFACE YOURE JUST HARD TO PLEASE”
“you had 3 hours of riding me and you couldn’t get anything out of me….” You argued and he yelled at you for hours
he tired himself out once again and fell back asleep in the comforts of your arms.
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a/n; he’s cute yall sthu
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astrophileous · 1 year
Text
Every Single Day
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.
Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)
Word Count: 7700-ish
Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG
Criminal Minds Masterlist
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The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.
Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.
Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.
Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.
"Puddle, Dee."
The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"You never told me how you met Mommy."
Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.
His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.
"Surely I've told you before, Dee."
"Nuh-uh."
"Of course I have."
"No, Daddy. You haven't."
"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."
Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.
"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"
"Do you not remember, Dee?"
Diana shook her head.
"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"
"She has, but--"
"But?"
"But I wanna hear it from you."
Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.
Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.
"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"
Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."
"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.
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The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.
Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.
"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.
Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.
The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.
Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.
"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"
"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"
Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."
"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."
"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."
Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.
It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.
Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.
Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.
"--so, unfortunately, I can't."
"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.
"Actually, that's not true."
The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.
"Excuse me?"
"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."
The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.
"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.
Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."
Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.
"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"
Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.
Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.
"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."
"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"
"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."
You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.
"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.
"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"
Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.
"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"
When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.
"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."
"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.
What was he about to say?
Insightful? Entertaining?
Endearing?
Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."
The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.
"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"
"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."
"That's a clever lie."
You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"
"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."
Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."
Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."
You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.
"I'm a profiler."
"Profiler?"
"With the FBI."
"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"
Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"
Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.
"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."
"Guilty as charged."
Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."
"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."
"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."
You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.
But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.
"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.
"Oh?"
Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.
"My friends. They, uh--"
"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."
With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.
"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.
"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.
"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."
"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."
Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.
"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.
Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.
"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.
A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.
"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.
When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.
"Ow!"
"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.
"It didn't come up!"
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.
"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"
Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.
"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."
Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.
"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.
"Um, hi?"
"I'm Spencer."
"Okay... Spencer?"
"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"
You blinked once. Twice.
By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.
"You want my name?"
Spencer nodded.
"What are you planning to do with it?"
"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"
Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.
"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"
"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."
"You better."
After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Spencer."*
Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.
"Spencer?"
"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"
"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"
"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"
"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."
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A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.
"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"
"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."
Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"
The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."
"What happened after that, Daddy?"
"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"
"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"
"Yes, we did."
"And you got married?!"
Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."
"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"
"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"
"Yes, please!"
Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.
The day you agreed to have him as your forever.
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Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."
The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.
By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.
Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.
Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.
"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."
Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.
"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."
"Garcia--"
"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."
Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.
Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.
And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.
"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.
"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."
In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.
On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.
You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.
You were so beautiful.
Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.
"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."
"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"
"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."
"Really? Me too."
"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."
Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."
Your breath hitched.
After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."
"I'm not joking, sweetheart."
Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.
"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."
Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"
Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.
The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.
Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"
"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."
"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."
You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.
"Is that--"
"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."
Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.
"This is... you're..."
"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.
Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.
And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.
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"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"
"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."
Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"
"Hm?"
"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."
Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.
The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.
"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"
The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.
Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.
"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"
"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"
Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.
"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"
"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.
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Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.
Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.
Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.
Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.
"You're home."
"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.
He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.
"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."
"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"
"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."
"You know what I meant, sweetheart."
"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."
Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."
A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.
As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.
"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.
"They're your favorites."
"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."
Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."
"Oh?"
"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."
"You do, huh?"
"One hundred percent."
Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.
Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.
"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.
"Spencer, what's going on with you?"
"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."
"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"
"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."
The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.
"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."
Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."
"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."
The frown on Spencer's face deepened.
"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.
"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."
Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.
"Always."
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The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.
Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.
"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.
After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.
All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.
When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.
"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."
"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.
"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"
As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.
It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.
Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.
"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."
A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.
"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."
Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.
The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.
So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.
Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.
Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.
"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."
Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.
"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."
A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.
"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."
Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.
He still had his daughter to think about.
"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.
"What is it, Pumpkin?"
"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"
Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.
"It's very pretty, Dee."
"Like me?"
The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."
"Like Mommy, too?"
Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."
The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.
Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.
"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.
"Yes, Pumpkin?"
"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.
Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."
Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"
"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."
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