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#i might have found alex's hair
leavemetoplaythesims · 11 months
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i didn't intend for them all to match but here we are
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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Little Angel
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Pairing: Spencer Reid × virgin!fem reader
Genre: SMUT, some fluff, a little tiny smidge of angst. MINORS DNI 18+
Summary: As the youngest and most innocent member of the BAU, they all take care of their little angel. When they find out just how innocent you are, though, one member takes his possession to the next level. You're his little angel, and he's determined to have you.
Warnings: loss of virginity, loss of innocence, degradation, pet names, oral sex, thigh riding, fingering, cum marking, love bites, Spencer is territorial and possessive, Dom! Spencer Reid, PinV sex, mentions breeding, but he pulls out.
A/N: We've reached Day 8 of kinktober! It's our second "long" fic, meaning there's a bit more plot to this, and the smut scene is longer too (WC is almost 7k!) I hope you love this one just as much as I did... The kinktober masterlist can be found here, and my regular masterlist is here too! If you want something specific, my requests are open ❤️
Your first three months with the BAU were a blur, and for good reason. Endless cases, back-to-back, interrupted only by the slight hint of a weekend or the ever possible death row interview. You were tired, stressed, and afraid to walk home alone at night, and absolutely satisfied. As far as you were concerned, it was all worth it to get these monsters off the streets, to help save their victims and to find out what made them tick. There was nothing else you'd rather be doing. 
The team had helped you settle in well, too. You'd joined the team after Alex Blake had left - she'd recommended you actually from the college seminars you'd taken with her. You were obviously lacking a bit of experience, so they took on two team members, and you and Kate Callahan had the great opportunity of both being the newbie. But you had a slight disadvantage of age, coming in as the youngest member of the team. You thought that might be why you'd settled in so well, in all honesty. 
Hotch and Rossi were both protective in a fatherly way. Hotch pushed you and Rossi encouraged you and that was everything you needed from them. A strong pat on the back at the end of a case and a "you did good, kid," and whatever hell they'd pushed you through, it was worth it. Morgan's tough love was brotherly, but he did a great job at getting you to relax on and off the case, reminding you to not take the work home. JJ and Kate were great mentors. It wasn't easy being women in the FBI, let alone the unit that specifically looked into some of the most misogynistic killings, rapes and abductions in the world. They both gave you tips about how to handle condescending officers, and JJ had held your hair back after you'd puked your guts up on a particularly harrowing day in the field. With Penelope, friendship was easy, and you loved talking to her about whatever hyperfixation you were on that week, loving that there was someone on your team that had filled their life with genuine joy in the face of so much horror. 
And Spencer. Honestly, you were beginning to think that you'd used Spencer as a human stuffed toy a bit too much. 
You don't know how it happened at first, just that after one of your first few cases, you'd been so elated to find a victim alive, safe but traumatised, that you'd thrown yourself into his arms the minute you got back to the precinct. 
"We did it, I thought she was going to be dead, Spencer but she isn't." Your head was pressed into his chest, you were almost surprised he even heard them, muffled as they were. If you weren't so elated, you'd have noticed the way he'd stiffened at your touch, panicking slightly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you, too. But you pulled away before you could notice that he wasn't really used to any physical comfort, bouncing off to write up your case report. 
Spencer noticed, though. Noticed how the heat of your body made him feel comforted, the way his heart rate increased to 125 BPM from it's base rate and didn't fall back to normal for another half hour. He noticed that you smelt like jasmine and patchouli, and more importantly, he noticed that he didn't really care if you touched him, and that was new. 
It became a kind of ritual for you, finding him after a case and folding into his arms to celebrate. They were friendly hugs, after all, a sign that you'd been through hell together, and you'd made it through like avenging angels. They only lingered longer when the cases went badly. You turned to crying in his arms after you'd discovered the body of a dead street girl, Veronica, in pieces in the house of an unsub who'd committed suicide by cop moments earlier. 
"I told her she'd be safe if she talked to us, Reid. I told her we'd protect her, that I'd protect her." You were so hurt by that failure that he'd had to drive you home that night, holding your hand the entire way so you didn't feel so alone, left to fester in your guilt. 
The rest of the team had begun teasing you about the hugs, but you'd brushed them off. You hugged everyone else too, and you knew for a fact that Penelope hugged every member of the team, so there was nothing special going on between you and Spencer. No one had deigned to inform you of Spencer's germophobia and aversion to touch. 
"Gonna tell me what that's all about?" Morgan asked Spencer as you bounced away from a hug one day, leaving to remove your FBI vest. 
"What what's all about?" He replied coldly, turning away to remove his own vest, replacing it with his blazer. 
"What, you don't have a statistic for how many germs are passed between people during a hug, Kid, come on, you were practically smelling her hair." The older man's eyebrows raised in a question again, but Spencer continued to blow him off. 
"I hug people all the time, it's not a big deal." He shrugged. 
"It took you four years to return one of Penelope's hugs, and you still only do that on special occasions. That's not all the time." 
"Derek, just drop it. There's nothing going on, she just… She just does it sometimes." 
It was when you'd hugged him in the middle of the office, without a case to use as an excuse, that you noticed an underlying tension in the office. You were all celebrating, of course, Callahan had just announced her pregnancy, and you were all so happy for her. You'd heard the happy news and instantly turned and thrown yourself into Spencer's arms. Even you weren't sure why, not even questioning it until you saw the awkward glances on the other profilers' faces. You brushed it off by rushing to give each of them hugs, and running out in a mad flush, needing air, or water or something to get you out of what was looking more and more like an interrogation room. 
A few cases later, the entire team headed to O'Keefe's to celebrate. 
"To another case successfully solved," Morgan toasted, and you all joined him, lifting your glasses in triumph. 
"To the wonders of non-alcoholic beer," chimed in Kate, leaving you all laughing together. The booth was small, and as usual, you'd found yourself sat right in the arms of Spencer Reid. You hadn't intended it, honestly, having slightly avoided him recently, but you'd followed Penelope into her side of the circular table, and Reid had followed you. You were sat squished between them, your arms resting awkwardly on your lap between drinks. 
"Okay, a night of drinking is slightly boring without some games to spice things up, what do you say, hot chocolate?" Penelope said, addressing Morgan who was on her other side. 
"I'm all ears, baby girl. What were you thinking?" 
"How about twenty questions? We already know a lot about each other, let's see what we don't know?" Kate suggested, thriving off of the knowledge that as the sole sober member present, she'd hold all the cards tomorrow. 
"What, how is asking questions a game?" Reid questioned jokingly from beside you. "That's just an interrogation or a therapy session, there's no winner or loser."  
Already slightly buzzing from your drink, you turned to him and out your fingers in his lips, shushing him. 
"No time for logic in matters of the bottle, Spencer. Let's play." He pulled your fingers off him, but nodded, holding them in his grip still as you turned back to the table. 
"I'll start! JJ, are you and Will thinking of having more baby LaMontagne's?" Penelope jumped at the chance to probe her teammate, and you laughed at her enthusiasm. 
"There have been discussions, but I'll not confirm or deny yet." JJ said, taking a sip of her drink as she slyly avoided a direct answer. 
"I always forget why you were so good with the press, Miss No Answers. Okay, your turn to ask a question." 
"Okay, Morgan. Are you thinking of popping the question to Savannah anytime soon?" 
"Did she send you?" He laughed and took a drink. "If I do, she'll be the first to know." 
The game went back and forth like this for a few rounds before Penelope turned the spotlight back to you. 
"Okay, Y/N. You were a college student recently, I know you've got some wild stories. Where's the craziest place you've ever done it?" You knew Penelope didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. She was just an open person. 
But you shifted in your seat nonetheless, trying to figure out if you could answer or even if you would. Your tongue was a bit looser than you expected though, because before you could even finish thinking you just blurted it out. 
"Nowhere." 
The others blinked at you slightly before Penelope dived in with another question. 
"Is that Nowhere, Oaklahoma, or you're just not having sex in crazy places?" 
"No. I'm not… I'm not having sex. Period. Never have." You felt yourself shrink as the other members of the team awkwardly apologised for probing you so much. Really it wasn't that big of a deal, and it wasn't as if you were saving it for religious or moral reasons. But you'd not been the most popular teenager, and you'd started studying serial killers and sociopaths so early that you really hadn't wanted to get so intimate with someone else like that. 
Unbeknownst to you, Spencer's grip on his own drink had tightened ever so slightly, his heart race had picked up again, and suddenly the hand that was holding yours suddenly let you go, quietly dropping your fingers like they were glowing cinders, and he was dripping in gasoline, waiting to ignite. 
Lust. He felt sick with himself for the images that were suddenly flashing through his mind now that he knew you'd never been held in that way, trying not to fantasise about you underneath him, holding him, begging him, feeling all of him. He took another swig of his drink and politely excused himself to get another as he let himself catch some air, as the sudden realization that he wanted you - and had wanted you for quite some time now - finally hit him.
The next couple of weeks were normal, and you were thankful to have that discussion behind you. No one treated you differently, acted like you were more of a child than before, asked you how your dating life was or set you up on blind dates, which was really refreshing actually. You'd let some friends know previously, and that's all they'd done, surprised that you could live ignorant to wonders of sex without shrivelling up and dying. 
The only thing that was different was Spencer. And that wasn't really difference so much as growing more comfortable with each other. He'd rest his hand on the small of your back now in support sometimes, or have a hand slung over the back of your chair when sitting together. He was constantly at your side, especially if you were around male suspects or officers who'd taken a bit of a ballsy approach. 
You liked it, probably a bit too much. You gravitated towards him in a room filled with people, and found yourself hugging him more often, when you left a room, when you entered one, when he looked like he needed it. Which, recently, was all the time. A month went by with this increased comfort level, and soon you found yourself feeling wrong if his hands weren't on you. 
He stood close to you all the time, and you noticed the stares you were getting from everyone else. A few officers who'd approach you would apologise to him when they noticed him at your back, hand on your hip as he pulled you away. 
After one case, you could even swear that you felt more than him than you were expecting. He'd moved away slightly in between one of your hugs, but you'd pulled his arms back around you and stepped closer, pressing your back against his chest, letting your head rest on his arms. Something hard and long wedged up against your ass, and in a split second he was pulling away before you could ask him about it. He excused himself, and you felt your body burn up. It was Spencer, it was just Spencer and that wasn't because of you, it was some other reason. 
Spencer didn't know what he was doing. He grew more possessive over you by the day, and he'd honestly nearly bitten the head off an officer who asked him for your number. 
"Sorry, she doesn't have a phone." 
"But I saw her with one earlier. Look I get it she's FBI, and you guys are-" 
"Okay, so she's not interested."
"Hey, why don't you let her decide that wise guy?" 
"Oh sure, get angry I'm sure she'd love that. She's not interested, she has me." He couldn't help himself from getting in the officers face at that, and Morgan had to pull him back from the edge. 
"Wow, wow, hey, calm down." The officer stormed out, and he felt triumphant for only a second before Morgan rounded on him. 
"Whatever this thing you've got going on, Spencer, you need to get it out of your system as soon as possible." His voice was low and stern, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where you were sitting, staring confusedly through the glass at Spencer, whose eyes refused to move from your own. 
" I just wanted him to back off, she doesn't like him like that."
"No, you wanted him to back off because you've marked her like some animal marking its territory. She's not your prey, Spencer, she's our team member, now you're gonna have to get your act together and leave her alone, because we've got work to do." 
Sighing and throwing his hands through his hair again, he finally looked away from you and gathered his breath. He wanted to stop this too, this horrible perverted feeling of needing his hands on you, wanting to possess you day and night. To protect you. He just wasn't sure if he was strong enough to do that. 
The next time you all went to O'Keefe's he certainly tried. You expected him to follow you into the booth again - he didn't, sitting opposite you next to JJ. You expected him to talk to you or look at you for more than a second at a time - he didn't, avoiding most conversations entirely and keeping his eyes fixed on the bar. You certainly expected him to still be sat at the table when you returned from the bathroom, ready to slip into the seat beside him, force him to talk to you. Instead he was gone, and you scanned the rest of the bar trying to locate him. 
Something green and vile jumped you when you finally locked onto him, stood at the bar, surrounded by other women. Surrounded was maybe an exaggeration, as there were really only two of them, but they were practically draping themselves over him, and for some reason that set something alight inside of you. 
You watched them for a moment, how one of them trailed a hand up his arm as he shuddered away from their touch, the other pressing herself against the bar so her chest pushed up dramatically. The green bile in your throat carried your feet forwards, and before you knew it, you were clearing it from your throat to grab their attentions. 
"Spencer, there you are!" You brightened your tone specifically, as you locked eyes with his panicked ones. The two girls looked you up and down as you moved closer, brushing past them to climb up right into his lap on the barstool, pulling his arm around you as you pressed your ass into his crotch. 
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friends?" The smile didn't reach your eyes as you let your back rest against his chest comfortably, watching the women to see their reactions. The one touching him pulled her arm back instantly, and the other readjusted her dress before they both left silently, carrying their glasses back to wherever they came from. 
You watched them leave a little triumphantly before the green faded, and you realised what you had done. 
"Y/N…?" His voice was hesitant in your ear, and you shivered slightly before pushing off of him. 
"I'm so sorry, Spence, it just- it… looked like you were hard." You panicked again, pushing closer to him. "No, like you were in a hard situation, not that you were," your hand accidentally dropped to his crotch as you spoke your final words: "Hard."
He twitched beneath you as you finally looked down to where your hand was, as his mouth opened to say something. 
"Y/N…" was all you heard before you turned around, and fast walked to the entrance, picking your bag up quickly on the way, and then sprinted the second the cold air hit your face. 
You cursed yourself inwardly as you ran the three blocks more to your apartment, thankful that you were at least in walking (or apparently running) distance. What the hell had you been thinking? Practically sexually harassing one of your coworkers like that, grabbing his dick, albeit accidentally. 
You slammed your door shut behind you, leaning against it and sliding to the floor as you finally accepted that whatever this was with Reid, it wasn't friendship for you anymore. And you weren't sure if it had ever been. 
With your head between your legs, arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you started replaying each moment with him, each touch from the very first. How even the memory of a brush past you could excite a fire in your heart, a heat between your legs growing by the second. 
You wanted to crawl pathetically into bed and not think about him until the next morning at work,  but fate, or Doctor Spencer Reid, had other plans. 
The knock at your door was sudden and incessant, the banging starting loud, and staying consistent until you tentatively pulled it open. 
He was stood there, chest heaving, looking down at you, sweat coating his forehead. 
"Can I… Come in?" He asked, and you nodded, too stunned at his sudden appearance to tell if this was real or just your fantasy becoming a little too realistic. 
He thanked you for letting him inside, and you showed him inside, guiding him to he couch, where you took a seat opposite him. 
"I wanted to make sure you were okay, you left in a rush and…" He trailed off, eyes flicking down to your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed with his swallow, and you watched it yourself, trying to avoid meeting his eyes, as if you were a schoolgirl about to get in trouble with a disappointed teacher. 
"I'm okay." 
"Okay, that's great, that's… Great." His breaths caught up to him, and he took another deep breath and a swallow before continuing. "How about we continue that game from last time. Twenty questions?" 
You'd do anything to stop him walking out of that door, but you felt too shy to touch him again, even in the friendly ways you were used to, so you eagerly accepted. 
"Yes, that… That sounds fun, thank you." 
"Okay. Question one. Do you know why I'm here?" He asks as he shifts closer to you, still not touching, but at a proximity where it would be natural to accidentally brush against one another. 
"N-No. But I might have an idea." He nodded at your response before moving on to his next question. 
"Question two. Are you a virgin?" He didn't trip or stumble over the words, pushing them out slowly and delicately so as not to offend. 
"Yes." The lump in your throat was thick, almost as if he'd put something there that you couldn't help but choke on. 
"Question three. Do you want to remain a virgin?" 
You shook your head no, following it with your voice seconds later as he stood up from his seat, putting some distance between you. 
"Question four. Do you feel intoxicated or drunk right now?" He held himself still as you sat on the very edge of your chair, desperate to feel his hands on you now. 
"No, I only had one sip at the bar before…" He held up a hand to silence you, and you did. 
Question five. Answer me honestly. Do you like it when I touch you?" 
"Yes." Your breath was a whisper, but it was breathy, sounding almost pornographic in your neediness. 
"Question six. Do you like it when other people touch you?" 
"Do you?" His head snapped back to yours, and you froze under his gaze. "Not as much." You answered and relaxed again, pouting slightly at his lack of answer. 
"Question seven. Do you like me touching other people?" He took a step closer to you again with this question, but you continued pouting as you shook your head. 
"No. I don't." His lips quirked upwards before he could stop them, but he gathered himself together again. 
"Question eight. Do you want me to leave?" You met his eyes at that question, taking one good, hard, long look at him. You noted the tensed jaw, the clenched fists, his stiff body language, trailing your eyes over him before looking him directly in the eyes. 
"No." You let the word hang on your tongue, pulling it out a bit longer than was necessary as you watched him take in a shaky breath. 
"Question nine. Do you want me to come over there and kiss you?" 
"God, yes." He was on you in seconds, restraints gone, throwing himself back at you as his lips collided with your own. Virgin you may be, but you'd kissed men before, and it had been nothing like this. 
His hands trailed up to your hair, tipping your head back slightly so he could gain better access. He bit your lip and thrust his tongue into your mouth when you gasped, so eager to consume every part of you whole. 
You'd never felt like this before. 
He pulled away, and you tried desperately to chase his lips, even as your lungs begged you to stop. 
"Last question," he whispered in the space between you, holding the sides of your face at a distance so neither of you could be tempted to dive in for a second kiss, or a third, or fourth. "Do you want me to fuck you?" You whimpered at his words, nodding furiously as you tried to lunge at him again, but he held you firm. 
"I need you to say your answer, baby. I need to hear your consent, okay?" You nod again and open your mouth, eyes never leaving his lips as you moan out a definitive "yes."
Instead of letting your lips fall against his again, he lunges for you, grabbing your legs and hauling you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style all the way back to your bedroom. 
"Gonna do it right," he mutters to himself as he throws you down on the bed, pulling back to take off his jacket and unbutton the cuffs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves up meticulously. 
"I'm going to take care of you, Y/N, okay?" You nod at him and flush, suddenly feeling the strength of his need for you as he holds himself back. He puts his hands on you again, gently coaxing your legs apart, pushing your skirt up over your hips. Reflexively, you move your hands over yourself, covering your sensitive places with your hands. 
"Don't cover yourself." His voice is strong, deep, as he orders you, and you let your arms drop back to your side. He traces his hands up and down your legs, almost as if he were memorising every inch of your skin, how you felt under his hands. 
His hands make their way up to your panties, and you watch with baited breath as he moves you, pulling your hips up so he can let them fall down. The lace material tickles you as he pushes them past your thighs, over your knees and finally off your legs entirely, balling them up and putting them in his pocket. 
"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" He asks it like a question, but he doesn't wait for your answer, unable to hold himself back before diving straight between your legs, so desperate to taste you that he's deaf to everything else. 
His tongue connects with your sensitive area first, tracing up and down at a steady pace as his legs half-heartedly push your legs open. It's almost as if he's enjoying the pressure of your legs wrapped around him, suffocating between your thighs as he feels your pleasure build, and build. 
Eventually he pushes your hips further apart, letting himself push his face into even more of you, his tongue entering your hole as he begins fucking it in and out of you, fingers coming back up to your clit to keep up the pressure there. 
"Spencer, please, please, fuck." 
"I love it when you beg for me like a needy little slut," he whispers, holding your legs apart as he looked up at you, face slick with your arousal. Your mouth drops wide at his words, and he immediately begins to retract them. 
"I'm sorry, Y/N, if that was too far, I just got caught up -" 
"I liked it." You said, quieting him as you spread your legs a bit further apart, begging for him to continue. He smiled and dived right back in, bringing his other hand up under your dress, all the way to your chest as you kept your legs open yourself. 
He sucked your clit into his mouth, lapping up all the juices you were releasing as you moaned underneath him, bucking into his face at the memory of his degradation. 
You were a needy little slut, and you needed him to make you cum. He was more than happy to oblige. 
He kept you there for what felt like forever, drinking you in for as long as he could. You orgasmed twice before he finished, completely overstimulated by the way he was desperately fucking you with his mouth. 
He was obsessed with you, with your scent, your taste, with being the first ever person to ever touch you like this, to fuck you, to make you feel so good. Without him even realising, you're pushed to the brink for a second time, shuddering under the heat of his mouth as he drinks you in. 
He finally pulls his head up again, coming up for air as you're twitching under him. 
"Perfect, baby, so perfect for me." His lips fall down to your own, and suddenly you're tasting yourself on his tongue. It's hypnotising, and despite the pleasure you've just received, you need more, desperate to feel him on you again. 
When he pulls his mouth away, he replaces himself with his fingers, pushing them into your mouth. 
"Suck," he says and you listen, as he watches the way you lick yourself off of him. 
He unzips your dress with his free hand, carefully pulling your arms out of the sleeves and pushing your dress off your body. You trace your tongue around every ridge of his fingers, leaving no inch undiscovered. He moved you to pull the dress of, and you graciously followed, letting him do whatever he wanted to you. 
"Nice little slut, tasting herself on my fingers?" He whispered when you were finally bare, pulling his fingers from your mouth, letting the trail of spit hang between you as you moaned. 
He removed himself from over you, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 
"Come here. Come and sit on my lap." 
You cautiously followed his directions. You'd thought that he'd fuck you then, after spending so long getting you ready, but apart from his tie, which he was in the middle of discarding as you crawled over to him, he hadn't derobed any further. 
"That's it baby, come and sit yourself down right here." He pat his thigh and you crawled over, lowering yourself down onto his clothed leg. 
"What now, Spencer?" You stuttered the words out, heart beating as you awaited his instructions. 
"Now, I want you to rock your hips back and forth. Just like this." He grabbed your hips and started moving you against his leg, pushing you down to grind into him. 
"Spencer, wait, I don't know-" 
"I do. I know you can do it, so please try. For me." You pulled you in for a kiss, and then removed his hands from you, leaving you to rock against his thigh. 
You were unsure of the movements at first, moving slowly as you dragged your aching cunt up and down the top of his pants, watching as you saw the wet patch you were making. You moaned with each movement, growing faster and more confident as you continued. 
"That's it baby, use me to get yourself off, okay? Let me see you." He whispered in your ears, pushing your sweat-slicked hair ou of your face, holding it up for you. 
"Spencer please," you don't even know what you're asking for as you beg him, feeling that familiar bubble in your stomach grow. 
"No, you can do it. You look so beautiful like this, Y/N, so desperate for my cock, huh?" You start trying to unbutton his shirt, desperate to see more of him, to feel more of his bare skin on your own. But he stops your hands and holds them against his chest. 
"You need to ask nicely first, before trying to undress me like a needy little whore." The words should sound violent, should humiliate you, but his voice is so soft you simply move faster, moaning and desperate to cum one more time. 
"Fuck, Spencer, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" 
"No, you're not." Before you finish, he pulls you off his leg, hauling your body back onto the bed, and laying you back down on your back. You moan in disapproval, so frustrated with the lack of release that you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 
"Don't cry, baby. I'll give you what you want soon." He practically rips his clothes off, pulling his vest over his head, stumbling over each button and removing his belt and pants before climbing over to you. His cock finally free you take your first glance at it. 
You'd never entirely been sure how it was that the male appendage fit inside something as small as your pussy, and you were doubly unsure about how Spencer's was ever going to fit inside you. You stared at it wide eyed, as you took in the length, the girth, and the heat of it as he stroked it in one hands, pushing on top of you. 
He let go of it as soon as he was between your legs, letting it fall onto your stomach as he crawled between your legs. He trailed a finger over your lower abdomen just around where his cock was twitching against you as his other hand came up to stroke your hair. 
"You look worried, Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Will it, um, will it fit?" You asked, knowing how cliché you sounded. 
"We've spent the last thirty-seven minutes loosening you up with foreplay. It should fit, but I can't promise it won't hurt."
"Right, if my hymen is still intact you have to…" 
"That's right. And then it's going to reach all the way in you to here," with each word, he stepped his fingers up from your clit to where the tip of his dick sat on your stomach, letting you come to terms with exactly how full you were about to be. 
"I'm going to fill you, and you're going to be mine, and I'm going to be yours. My sweet angel." He stroked your face, catching his thumb on your lips on the way down, tempted to thrust it into your mouth again, to see just how much of a whore you could be, given the chance. 
Instead, he lined himself up with your dripping core, and, making sure one last time that this is what you wanted, slowly pushed in. 
It was uncomfortable at first, having something so wholly alien inside of you, you weren't sure how to react. You wrapped your arms around him, digging your nails in, deep, as he pushed in further. 
"Y/N, I need to move more now, and it's going to hurt a little, you just have to trust me, okay?" He kissed the top of your head, but you were so lost in the sensations to answer. With one swift jerk of his hips, he pushed through your hymen, and fully sheathed himself inside of you. He pressed small kisses everywhere on your face, while whispering to you how beautiful you were. 
"You're doing so good for me angel, I'm going to take care of you. Going to make you feel so much better than this. You're so beautiful." His lips were distractingly sweet, as were his words, and soon you found yourself relaxing into him, the sharp pain of earlier fading to an electric buzz inside of you. 
You jerked your hips up to meet his, and with that, he knew you were ready. From his words, you'd assumed that he'd move slowly in you. But with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he lifted his chest up, pinned your legs tightly down, and started thrusting hard and fast. 
"Sorry, just couldn't help myself baby. Needed to see you looking ruined underneath me." Moans spilled out of your mouth with his every movement, and the orgasm you'd built up earlier hit you like a ton of bricks, blackness hazing over your eyes as they rolled back in your head. 
"Fuck, fuck, Spencer, don't stop!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, unable to control your pitch or volume as he slammed into you desperately. He was so turned on by the sight of you beneath him, so proud of having fucked away your virginity, to have given you your very first penetrative orgasm that he wouldn't have heard anything that came out of your mouth. 
His eyes were fixated at the place between you, where you joined, where he was entering you, defiling you, claiming you, using you, breeding you. 
He knew he wouldn't cum inside of you, not the first time, but it was tempting. Instead, he chose to move his lips back to your skin. He marked you with love bites and hickeys across your neck, chest and shoulders as you moaned with every roll of his hips, shuddering on his cock. He was close. And seeing you like this, displaying all the signs that you were his and his only, he finally lost it. 
Pulling his dick out of you, he stroked it through his release, spraying his seed over the parts of your skin he hadn't bruised with love. Your stomach, your breasts, hell, one spurt even landed dangerously close to your lips, he was everywhere. You. Were. His. 
He fell beside you, panting for a few moments as you finally cracked your eyes back open, realising what the two of you had just done. You wiped the cum from your face with a stray finger, staring at it for a second before licking it off your finger. 
"As hot as that was, I think we should get you cleaned up properly, angel." He spends forever cleaning you up, carrying you to the bathroom, washing your entire body with hot water and a fresh cloth, running you a hot bath to relax your muscles. You snuggle into his chest at some point in the bath, relaxing so much into him, that you drift off to sleep. 
You feel him carry you to bed, semi-conscious, tucking you in and climbing in next to you. He holds you through the night, the way he holds you after your bad cases. He holds you until he doesn't. 
You're blindsided by the cold bed the next morning. You knew he would be there, you'd felt him inside you and next to you, and you'd needed his warmth, but he was gone. You looked for him in every other part of your home, looked for a note or an explanation, but there wasn't one. 
Through tears, you got ready for work, ready to face him and make him answer why he was suddenly gone. You wanted him to apologise, especially since he'd marked you so badly the night before you looked like a car crash victim from the neck down. 
Dark lavender blossomed along your collar bones as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trailing a finger along every place that he touched the night before. 
"How could you be so stupid?" You cursed yourself. If you'd have listened to what he was saying last night, really listened, you'd have known he wasn't going to be here in the morning. He wanted to ruin you, to possess you, to take away your virginity, and he'd done just that. 
You almost wanted to keep the bruises on display going into work, to make him confront the pain he caused you by leaving. In the end, it was the inevitable stares from everyone else that convinced you otherwise. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 
You pushed through the doors to the bullpen and didn't bother putting your bag down before you started scanning the room for him. 
"Where's Spencer?" You practically shouted the words at Morgan, unable to hold back your anger. 
"Y/N, what's wrong?" 
"Where is he?" You demand, and there must be something in your eyes that speaks to your devastation because Morgan shuts up and just points to the top of the stairs, where Spencer is exiting Hotch's office without a care in the world. 
You don't realise that something is tears until you're beating a hand against his chest in frustration as they spill down your face. 
"Where were you?" You demand, sobbing into his chest, as he pulls your hands away. The entire office is watching your commotion, but you don't care, you're not letting him move you out of the way. 
"Y/N, I need you to sign this." His voice is calm, and you hate him for that. That he can stay so neutral when he's just broken your heart. 
"No, not until you tell me why you left." 
"Sign the papers, Y/N, trust me." He pulls your chin up so you can look him in the eye, and you catch a glimpse of the man who has been holding you, comforting you for the last four months. You snatch the pen from him and sign the papers, thrusting them back at him with a scowl. 
He smiles as he looks down at them, placing them back on his desk before pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. You're shocked at first, but you melt into it, pulling him closer so he can't leave again. 
"I'm sorry. I had to come into the office to declare our relationship, Morgan sometimes tells me I have a one track mind, and when I woke up this morning, the one thing I wanted to do was get it in writing that you were mine." 
Your push the tears out of his face, and attempt to pull him down for another kiss. You don't get the chance, as the sound of several throats clearing around you burst your bubble. 
"Public space, no canoodling." Rossi shouts down at you from the balcony, a soft smirk on his face. 
Penelope runs in from her office, and stares wide-eyed at the lack of space between the two of you. "You! And you! Security cameras….. You!"
"Now, I'm sure there's a story here, but from the state of our little angel's neck here, I'm sure I don't want to hear it." Derek laughs, smacking Spencer on the back in praise as he walks up the stairs to the meeting room. 
You slap a hand over your neck, trying to pull the turtleneck further up to hide the mark you evidently missed. 
"She's my angel, now." Spencer calls up to him. "I have the paperwork to prove it."  
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sailorholly · 2 months
Text
Yes, Sir
Summary: Professor Reid has had enough of your attitude in class.
Pairings: Professor Spencer Reid x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Professor - student dynamic. Age gap. Spanking.
See my Masterlist Here
“Do you have to contradict everything I say?” Your professor, Dr. Reid asks you, running his hands through his unruly hair. This had been your favorite class when Professor Blake was here. She was your favorite teacher, more than that, she was like a mother to you. She took you under her wing, spending time with you outside of class to share her infinite wisdom.
You had met Dr Reid before. He was a guest lecturer for Alex many times. You didn’t hate him then. But, he was the reason that she left to take a full time teaching job in Boston. He had gotten shot and nearly died. Something about him reminded her of her own son, Ethan. It was too triggering for her so she left the BAU, and consequently you.
So you took out all your frustration with the situation on him. When he replaced Alex, you decided to make his life hell. Sure, it wasn’t entirely his fault that she left. But you blamed him anyway. You went out of your way to argue with him. Most of the time, you would give a false opinion just for the sake of arguing.
Today, you went too far. He ended class early, sending everyone out, everyone except for you. You were an adult, you shouldn’t be acting this childish, but you couldn’t help it. “You were a huge distraction today. Arguing with me, playing with your hair, wearing outfits you know are inappropriate for school.” You look down at your short skirt and low cut top. He was right, you did know it was inappropriate. But you liked the way he looked at you when you wore it. His brown eyes darkening with every step you took.
“I didn’t realize you found me distracting, Professor.” You lie, taking a step toward him. Spencer’s breath hitches when you stop directly in front of him. “Let me make it up to you.” You place your hand on his slacks, dangerously close to the bulge threatening to burst out of his zipper.
His breath hitches as you drop to your knees. You make quick work of his pants and underwear, letting them pool around his ankles. You wrap your hand around his length. He says your name like a warning. When you swirl your tongue around the head, he forgets any hesitation he might have had.
His large hands tangle in your hair as you take him all the way in, stretching your jaw wide to accommodate him. He fucks your mouth relentlessly, drool pooling out of your open mouth and down his leg.
“Get up.” He commands, letting go of your hair. You stand as he takes in your disheveled appearance. Your hair is a mess from him holding it so tightly. Your shirt rides lower, your skirt is crumpled, appearing shorter. He takes his tie off, bringing your hands together in front of you, he uses it to tie your hands together. Spencer pulls the cups of your bra down, along with your shirt. The cool air in the room makes your nipples harden. He takes a pebbled peak between his lips, tongue swirling.
You reach for him, desperate to touch him. He immediately stops to raise your restrained hands above your head. “You don’t get to touch me, do you understand?” He looks at you sternly waiting for your reply. “Yes, sir.” You answer trying to keep your arms up. He smirks, clearly loving his new moniker.
“Say it again.” “Yes, sir.” You say louder this time. “Good girl.” He spins you around, bending you over his desk. Papers scatter on the floor as you land on the desk. He lifts your skirt, “No panties? Fuck.” He runs a hand through his messy curls. “I think you need to be punished for how you acted today and every day this semester in my class.” His large hand makes contact with your ass as he spanks you. “Count.” He commands, his hand coming down once again.
“Two!” You cry out, loving the way he’s making you feel. Your arousal drips down your legs as he spanks you again. “Three.” You wish your hands weren’t tied so you could hold onto the desk to steady yourself. Smack. “Four!” “Do you think you’ve had enough?” “Yes, sir.” “Hmm, I think you might need one more.” Smack. “Five!” You cry. He stops, looking at his handprint on your ass.
He reaches around you, dipping a finger into you. “You loved that. Didn’t you, my little slut” “Yes, sir.” You smile, turning your head to look at him. His dark eyes are clouded with lust. He swirls a quick circle on your clit before thrusting into you. The sound of his heavy breathing and the desk scooting from his forceful thrusts fill the room.
“You’re taking me so well.” He coos. His words make you clench around him. “God, you’re so tight.” Nothing has felt better than his weight on top of you, his cock dragging deliciously inside you. Spencer’s teeth sink into the sensitive skin on your collar bone as his thrusts grow sloppy. He finishes inside you with a grunt.
He pulls out, lifting you from his desk and turning you around. He loosens his tie from your wrists, kissing them as he frees them. “Are you going to behave in my class from now on?” He asks as you rub your wrists. “Yes, sir.” You beam. “Good girl. If you keep your promise, next time I’ll let you cum.”
Tags
@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @khxna @im-this-girl
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amirasainz · 26 days
Note
Omg I've literally just read all of the works you have put up. LITERALLY LOVE ALL OF THEM. Could you write on where baby sainz has a panic attack while in the paddock because of the paparazzi and carlos gets mad and Alex, Rebecca, and Kika try to help her afterwards while the drivers take action.
Hi loves! This request was so hard to write. I hope I did good. Please send me some requests and enjoy reading. (The title got inspired by the Weeknd "Happy House". A great song) -XoXo
Happy House
Amira stood frozen in the center of the paddock, her senses assaulted by the relentless barrage of flashing cameras. The paparazzi had descended upon her like a swarm of locusts, their lenses hungry for every detail of her life. She had seen this happen to her brother, the other drivers, even the glamorous partners of the racing world. But never to her.
Her heart raced, and she fought to maintain composure. The tight circle of photographers closed in, their shouts echoing in her ears. She squinted behind her sunglasses, trying to locate a familiar face among the chaos. Her trusted members were nowhere to be seen, lost in the sea of flashing lights.
Amira’s breaths came in shallow gasps. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. She attempted to break free from the paparazzi’s grip, but their collective force held her captive. Tears welled up, blurring her vision. The questions hurled at her were like daggers, each one piercing deeper into her vulnerability.
Then, a voice cut through the chaos—a lifeline. “Hey, everybody, take at least seven huge steps away from her!” The male voice was authoritative, commanding. Amira’s blurred gaze fell upon her savior, but she couldn’t make out his features. He gently took her arm, leading her away from the suffocating crowd. Her dam broke, and tears streamed down her face, a mix of relief and exhaustion.
In that moment, the stranger became her hero, shielding her from the paparazzi storm. Amira wondered who he was, but gratitude overwhelmed any other thought. She clung to his arm, seeking solace in the unexpected sanctuary he provided. The world outside might still be chaotic, but within the circle of his protection, she found a brief respite—a chance to breathe.
“Shhhh, you’re alright, pequeño Sainz,” said the soothing voice of Sergio “Checo” Pérez. The two of them had interacted quite often already, because sometimes it was easier for Amira to speak Spanish with someone. And Checo had to listen to all the yapping from Max about her. And let it be known that Max could talk for hours about her.
He gently started to steer her away from the prying eyes of the public before he stopped them gently again. “Make sure that all these monsters are banned from the team garages ,” Checo ordered a Red Bull employee. “And someone inform her brother!”
“Vamonos,” he ordered Amira softly. They had to walk quite slowly because her legs wouldn’t stop shaking. Thankfully, after walking for about 5 minutes, Carlos ran towards them. At the sight of her big brother, she let out a big sob.
“Ohhh, Amira. Estás bien. Nadie puede hacerte daño ahora. No dejaré que nadie te toque,” Carlos whispered while he hugged her tight. Picking her up gently, he brought their little group to the Ferrari garage. At their entrance, the happy smiles from Rebecca, Kika, and Alexandra faded, replaced by concern and relief.
Carlos reluctantly released his grip on Amira, allowing her to be enveloped by the comforting embrace of the girls. Their whispered reassurances—“It’s okay, little dove,” “Deep breaths,” and “You did so well”—echoed in the air, soothing her frayed nerves. They settled her into a plush chair, each taking their place around her. Rebecca knelt in front of Amira, holding her trembling hands. Kika sat on her left, guiding her through calming breaths. Alexandra, on her right, gently stroked her hair.
As the girls tended to their princess, Carlos turned to Checo, his voice edged with urgency. “What happened?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers. Checo’s calm demeanor contrasted with the tension radiating from Carlos. “I don’t know, mate,” Checo replied evenly. “One moment, I’m walking out from the media pen; the next, I see her surrounded by a horde of paparazzi.”
Carlos ran a hand over his face, his concern etched deep. He lowered his voice to a whisper, not wanting to alarm Amira further. “Thank you, Checo. Truly.” After a brief pause, he inquired, “Are those idiots still here?” Checo nodded in confirmation. Carlos’s resolve hardened. “Tell the others what happened. We’re meeting in ten minutes at the entrance. We’ll handle this ourselves—no FIA, no teams. And most importantly, no cameras.” The protective brother in him had awakened, ready to shield Amira from the storm that raged beyond the garage walls.
Carlos gently approached his sister, relieved that her breathing was now under control. Tears still streamed down her cheeks, but the panic had subsided. Rebecca, seeing Carlos’s arrival, made space for him. He took her place, cupping Amira’s chin with one hand. "Look at me, hermanita,” he ordered softly. When Amira finally met his gaze, he reassured her, “Those idiots will never come close to you again. I promise you on my life. Aunque sea lo último que haga en mi vida.” His vow hung in the air, a shield against the world.
After a small nod from Amira, Carlos stood up, pressing a kiss to her hair. He instructed the girls to remain where they were. Unseen by anyone else, the wags exchanged glances—hesitation and unease etched in their eyes.
At the entrance, Carlos found a gathering of drivers. Some, like Nico and Kevin, surprised him. Nico explained, “I have a wife and a baby daughter. I want to make sure that nothing like that can ever happen again.”The others murmured their agreement. Before Carlos could outline the plan, Lance interrupted. “I’m sorry, but Lewis, did you seriously bring Roscoe here? I mean no offense, but he isn’t exactly—” Before Lance could finish, Roscoe growled, catching everyone off guard.
“Boys, attention!” Carlos commanded. “Now our plan looks like this…”
And if the media asked the next day why so many drivers had cracked knuckles or bruised eyes, they’d be met with smirks. Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words.
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mywritingonlyfans · 9 months
Text
Teacher's pet. // Prof!Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut) Part 1 of 3.
prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.
words: 9.3K
a/n: Be aware that it's a smut but it has a whole context, so it's long. There are changes of the next parts being more smuts, this part was assembled around how they feel in front of each other and what they make the other feel. It is important to point out that I'm not native of the language, it is likely that there are some errors, but hopefully few because I try to be careful. In addition, I hope you enjoy!
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You were nervous; it was difficult to digest what he was explaining when all you seemed to notice in class was the timbre of his voice. As hours passed, his accent seemed to grow stronger and huskier, not to mention how he had taken off his blazer within the first few minutes and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. You couldn't quite tell whether you were enjoying the subject matter due to its inherent interest or whether it was him who had become your focus of interest.
You found the buttons on his white shirt alluring, the warmth adhering to his skin, and the occasionally tousled hair being lazily brushed away from his eyes exuded a charm. Watching him was intriguing; at some point, you had tried to avoid such distractions, but realizing your failure, you allowed yourself to be swept away completely.
"Did you hear me?" He asked a bit louder, trying to get your attention. He hadn't shouted; he never did. You were immersed in him, yet couldn't grasp the meaning of the disjointed words he had gestured. However, the movements of his restless hands and the prominent veins when he placed them on his waist had etched themselves into your memory. If someone requested, you could depict his fingers in oil on canvas.
"I'm sorry," you shook your head, waiting for him to repeat, as he often did with everyone else. He studied you more closely, even from a distance, his hands tucked in his pockets and your breath catching slightly. He didn't often make direct eye contact with students, maybe with no one. He was somewhat reserved, and it was evident that lecturing for hours wasn't quite his natural disposition. You found the stumbling over words and how he would look out the window or shift his gaze when someone met his eyes rather appealing. You feared that you had been thinking about him for so long that you had built up an image of him beyond what he could actually be.
However, he held his dark eyes on you, offering a gentle smile, a touch relaxed as if he had expected that from you, and playfully continued, "Well, I didn't expect that from you. I must have been mistaken in thinking you're a great one." He carried on with the lecture as your cheeks began to burn. Perhaps his not-liking for you was part of his nature too.
You couldn't bear for him not to like you. Not until the end of the semester; you considered his subject crucial for your repertoire. He just couldn't dislike you. Some nights were spent awake, but you were certain your paper was well-written, and your readings for his class were up to date; any question he might ask, you'd know the answer to. Your seat in the classroom was always the same, out of habit. Honestly, if you had known the distraction and nervousness that Mr. Turner would cause you, you would have opted for seats further back for your own good. But now it was too late, and besides, you needed a good grade in his class.
He was wearing a light blue blazer, a shirt with a few buttons open, and high-waisted slacks, the usual attire, but it never failed to soften your senses. He looked well-rested, his expression serene, no signs of dark circles, and his hair was even silkier than usual as his fingers brushed it back. You found yourself fidgeting, imagining what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair, touch his skin, and feel the texture of the beard that was just beginning to grow.
Realizing your mental drift, you closed your eyes tightly and buried your head in a notebook, trying to avoid looking at him. The rest of the class proceeded as usual, his voice pleasant and utterly hypnotic, and occasionally, he cracked a light joke to lighten the mood. Almost no one laughed, but you found it funny. There were only a few students, so he had no choice but to notice you.
You weren't foolish enough not to notice his eyes briefly passing over you, but you chalked it up to his duty to see if anyone needed help. So you avoided letting your brain jump to impossible conclusions.
And then there was the age difference; he was older, you couldn't say for sure how much, but the more pronounced lines on his face and his authoritative demeanor made that evident. Still, he was charming and, dare you say, a bit sexy. He had a well-sculpted physique, leaving enough room for you to describe him for hours.
"Could you continue for us?" he said, his voice distinct, making you look at him reluctantly. You didn't know it, but avoiding his gaze throughout the class had bothered him, but who was he to say anything about it unless you couldn't answer him?
You nodded, your hands sweaty; you knew what to say, just not where to find the courage. Your cheeks were already burning with anxiety. "I'm sorry," your voice was soft, and you stumbled over the first syllable. He seemed to understand. "It's okay," Mr. Turner leaned down to your level at your desk, his hands on his knees, and a somewhat encouraging smile. "I know you wrote an excellent paper on this; I know you know what to say," he said softly, turning toward you, his calm eyes and a nod of the head giving you confidence. His words made you look away for a moment, and your shy smile spread awkwardly.
Once you finished, he thanked you and added that you had done very well. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you speak, but perhaps it was just a product of your imagination. You even received a light applause from him, which didn't seem ironic. This made you feel more at ease and attentive during his classes; he was a great teacher.
At the end of class, he passed by the desks, handing out the respective papers we had discussed. Your face fell into a worried expression as you touched yours. Alex knew you deserved more, but he wouldn't make it easy for you. It wasn't his style as an educator to give out high grades easily.
Your smile disappeared in confusion; he felt a pang in his chest when he saw your reaction. He didn't say anything, just returned to his desk and said he was open to discussions. He hoped you would come to him and fight for the grade you deserved, but it was clear how upset you were about it.
Others left, content with their grades, and you still had the paper in your hands, looking between the notes. He avoided looking at you directly, yet couldn't help but glance at you from time to time.
"Mr. Turner," you sounded angelic as you approached him, your steps light as you handed him the paper. Your shirt was short, and when you handed him the paper, he couldn't help but notice the exposed skin of your stomach, which was briefly visible. "I thought I had done well; that's what you just said," your voice trembled, and as you got closer, he noticed your sweet scent. On the other hand, you couldn't focus on anything; minutes ago, you were sure you had done well, and things with him had been sorted out; he didn't hate you.
"It's not a bad grade," he said firmly, then immediately regretted it. It was brief, but for a moment, your eyes filled, and he could see how much it had frustrated you. He didn't blame you; in fact, he knew you were talented, and by the way you had written, he knew you had put in the effort. The problem wasn't you; any other teacher would have given you the highest grade. However, your grade wasn't bad; it just wasn't what you deserved and wanted.
"Do you think I can redo it? I can do better," he looked at your trembling hands and continued, "This grade is final; I can't allow you to do that." His words didn't match his tone, but you didn't notice; you wanted to rip up the paper in front of him and say you didn't need it.
You stood in front of him, disoriented, while he couldn't help but let his attention wander over you. He felt wrong, both because you were his student and because he was aware that you were over a decade younger. Still, without being able to explain it well, he found himself lost in thoughts of you from time to time, especially after having read what you wrote.
"Please," you pleaded softly as a last attempt, your eyebrow arched and your nose wrinkled in emphasis of your plea, and you looked so beautiful. "I can allow you to submit another," he confirmed, his face serious, the little furrow between his brows. Up close, you felt your breath catch as you noticed the exposed hairs on his chest. The scent of cigarettes and his cologne became more pronounced, and you liked it. Creating a new one would take so much time, but if it was your only option, there was nothing to be done.
Alex had only asked that in the hope of being able to explore more of your writing; by the end of the semester, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from letting you know that you were his number one fan if you allowed it. You had a beautiful way with writing; feelings seemed worth experiencing in your words. You nodded in agreement. "Okay, I need you to submit it by the end of the week." You didn't object; you seemed grateful, and Alex took mental note of how caring so much about that grade was something youthful; in the future, it wouldn't matter, but you didn't know that yet. Your smile, now smaller but still present, returned to your kind face, and he felt more comfortable, even dressed in his serious university professor attire. With that, he guided you to the door, his palm resting lightly on your back, not inappropriately, but gently, which caused him to blush a bit. You felt shivers run down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice, and both of you made your way to the exit. You thanked him once more, telling him that you wouldn't make him regret his decision, to which he assured you it wouldn't happen.
Your path to the next class was accompanied by a light and relaxed smile after his final words were simply, "I know you won't disappoint me; you didn't the first time," in his pleasant accent, followed by a pat on your shoulders. You felt like a fool, but you couldn't even think of trying to avoid it anymore.
"He's good, knows what he's doing. He follows my lead during, when I'm tired and breathless; he tilts his face and lets his nose graze my clit," your friend said casually, as if it were an everyday part of her life. Well, you couldn't relate. She was lounging on your bed, while you were on the floor with your laptop open to one of Professor Turner's published stories. As well as a valuable audiobook that was read by him between the navigation tabs, waiting for her to leave so you can have your moment of peace. You wanted to learn more about him, and your friend kept failing to get you to go out and meet new people. You were unfamiliar with the sensation of being touched, and she wanted to change that.
"I don't want to have to force someone to like me," you said, reconsidering what you had just breathed out, not wanting to sound offensive. You two were just different. She didn't mind; she just laughed. "I'll keep trying for you," and you appreciated that about her. You wanted someone in your life like that, but you didn't want it to be as insignificant as she described. She had already set you up with someone to talk to before, and the kiss was good, at least until you refused to have sex right away, which resulted in his friends laughing at you and whispering as you passed them in the hallway. You learned that sometimes it's better to wait and avoid certain situations.
"I'm okay like this, it's alright," you said, even though you weren't, but you wouldn't go through that again. She respected your decision. Your smile brightened as you saw a notification that you had received an email from Alex on the screen. You bit your lip, trying to contain your eagerness to click on it, making it something important that needed to be read slowly and appreciated. His notes on what he thought of your paper would be there, and he always made a point to highlight the positives and areas for improvement. It warmed your heart.
For a brief moment, his smile for you flashed in your mind, the wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, and his pointed nose following in harmony. You had to grip the fabric of your skirt between your fingers, soon having your friend's words echoing in your head. Professor Turner seemed like a good man in every sense of the word. You did believe he would treat his partners well in every way. Your friend pointed out that the boy she went out with listened to her, and you felt that he would too; both in listening and in other ways. You were sure, with what little you had learned about him, that he was observant.  There would be no need to tell him what to do, Mr Turner would understand your body and then he would not disappoint.  He could tell when a woman was tired or overwhelmed. An important one was that you also thought he was provocative, too impatient at times not to be.  You wanted to be able to know what it was like with him, even if it was through other people's experiences with him, just to get a little of that taste.  You didn't exactly feel good about the inconsistency of such thoughts. Still, you let yourself be carried away by them.
He made you wet with just his voice. If he were to touch you in that way, you were certain you would give yourself over completely. You sat up straighter, envisioning how good it would be to have his tongue on you, gentle and with relaxed moans because he wouldn't think going down on you was a bad thing or something to second-guess. You remembered how easily you could make your small vibrator slide when you were really excited, and you felt it would be the same with his fingers. They were longer and thicker than yours, but wet with his saliva and your body melting from his voice, they would be skillful.
The tip of his nose would surely brush deliciously against your clit as he savored your taste, following your cues. The beard that was beginning to grow would graze your sensitive skin, causing a slight burn that would remind you of his presence. Professor Turner would also shake his face into you, wanting to make sure he enjoyed pleasuring you as much as he did receiving. Oh, and you would love to be able to provide that to him. Unconsciously, you found yourself breathing heavily. Your friend laughed, "Are you this worked up over a notification?" She had gotten up to leave but returned when she noticed you were flustered. "Spill it, who's the lucky one?" You recoiled, shaking your head in denial, not wanting to admit that there was someone (or not exactly), but your smile was hard to hide.
"It's not really anyone," you still felt uncomfortable in your own skin, fearing you had done something wrong. She waited for you to continue. "Just an email about a paper I submitted, I got feedback on it now." She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "What a nerd." Then you felt like exploring the situation further, considering that she also had a class with him but in a different subject. "Was it positive feedback at least? What subject is this for?" You mentally thanked her for asking, giving you an opening to continue.
"It's for Professor Turner's class. He let me redo one of the papers to try for a higher grade," you answered, and she raised an eyebrow. "He gave you a low grade?" The girl seemed surprised but not entirely. "This guy is impossible, what a..." She used a strong word. You didn't quite understand. While you still thought there was a chance he might dislike you, he didn't seem so harsh. He wasn't the friendliest at first, but as you thought back, you realized you had never seen him smile at any student in your class except you.
"Do people think he's bad?" You asked, furrowing your brow. Deep down, you wanted her to reassure you by saying positive things about him and making you feel normal about having this confusing crush on him. She then talked about his strict grading style, how he acted like a difficult person to talk to, and always had a stern expression. She wasn't wrong; you couldn't deny that. But he wasn't like that with you; it was different, and you couldn't explain it.
"I talked to him about my grade, and even though he was reluctant, he allowed me to redo it and submit it by email. He talks to me during class as well, asking me to explain something or asking for my opinion on what he's explaining. I think he's talented, but I can understand your point," you defended, without taking a breath, as if it were already a formulated and concrete idea in your head. You did spend a lot of time thinking about him since the first day of his class. She quickly caught on to where this was headed. "You like him, he's your type. Charming, grumpy, and writes well." Your cheeks burned. "He likes you; in my class, he doesn't chitchat with anyone, just does what's necessary. He enjoys teaching, I can see that in him, he's just not so sociable and too strict for a subject that should be straightforward. I've never even seen the guy smile." You pondered for a moment, deciding to pay closer attention to see if he treated you differently from the others or if it was just your head playing tricks on you.
You shrugged and concluded before she left, "I like him, and he frustrates me sometimes for being so strict, but I don't think he does it out of malice. He seems like a good man." She got up, laughing at how you talked about him. "Then go for it, suck his dick, choose him as your thesis advisor; I'm sure he'd love to have you under his wing." Her tone indicated it was a joke, but it sparked your imagination. He would be a good advisor, and you liked the idea of him praising your work with that pleased, bright look on his face. Alone, you opened the email. Your joy went from extreme to controlled; he could be quite harsh when pointing out the negatives, and sometimes you wondered if he did it just to be difficult. But this time, he found more positives in your writing. He had marked the parts he liked the most and written next to them why he liked them. Your heart warmed, and your stomach filled with happy butterflies. The last comment read, "You give me pleasure in reading something," and you heard it in his voice, deep and drawn-out. You felt yourself grow warm and realized how messed up you were for feeling like this. Your mouth was dry, and in the end, you saw that your grade was the highest, even with the not-so-great notes he had made.
Maybe he didn't dislike you after all. You lingered on the blurry, not much clear photo in his email signature for a while, with a stupid smile of accomplishment on your face. Then you decided to write him a thank-you, and you weren't as brief as you would have liked. The sensation of comfort taking over your body, along with your pleasant but not entirely appropriate thoughts about him causing things in your breathing, made you contemplate what could be done.
You rested your head comfortably, your laptop placed beside you. In a new tab, after opening the audiobook website, you found yourself browsing through the selection that appeared when you searched his name. If his voice was enticing in an inappropriate context, it would be even better alone, wouldn't it? Your chest tightened, knowing that it was wrong, but you weren't going to stop.
You put on your headphones, clicked on the longest one you could find, and relaxed your tense shoulders as the first whispered words filled your head. It was even better; here, you had him all to yourself, complete silence, and his voice echoing, well-recorded and clear as it guided you. He sounded precise, with deep and marked pauses, his typical breathing between phrases, and, with your eyes closed, you could imagine him gesturing and occasionally touching his nose or mouth as he spoke. Just like the gentle adjustment of the necklace and shirt that made his chest more visible and room for more of your thoughts to be explored.  In fact, that necklace coming off his soft skin on top of you in sweat would be something so pleasant.
You felt weak but in a relaxed way; it was good, pushing the voice that haunted your thoughts about him into the background. Delicately, as if any abrupt movement might break the spell, you reached for your box under the bed. The small, pink object came to life in your hand, your throat already dry and his narration causing your head to tilt slightly to the side, as if he were caressing your face. You let yourself be completely carried away as you pressed it against yourself.
You swallowed hard, leaving it there for a while, immersed in how Mr. Turner seemed to be speaking to you. Everything was slow, every syllable that came from his rosy lips was cherished. You wanted so much for it to be him there, touching you and whispering while guiding you. You were sure he would say things like, "That's it, you're taking me so well, doll," or "Look at how good you are, you're such a good girl for me." And as cliché as it might sound, you had no doubt that he would make it sound like something the gods themselves would envy.
You pulled the thin fabric aside, pushing the vibrator inside you. Your legs trembled a bit, but as expected, the small object slid in just right. Your lips parted in a satisfied sigh, whispering his last name as you closed your legs slowly and felt the tingling sensation intensify. His name never felt so delicious and engaging as your tongue rolled out to the sound and went through your lips so vividly. Your head throbbed, and you could already see him sitting at his desk in front of yours, guiding you, telling you what to do and say, teaching you tricks to make it even better (you knew you weren't very skilled).
You got louder, whimpering because you wanted your thoughts to become real so badly, and then you saw nothing but white spots in your vision. Your chest heaved, your breathing completely out of sync, and the area beneath you grew wet as you felt too sensitive to continue with the vibrator.
This time, you didn't feel bad; you felt really good, actually. Your body relaxed, his voice still being absorbed by you in a therapeutic way. Then, you imagined lying on his chest, pulling your pillow to your arms, and how he would kiss you solemnly and have his hands in your hair, giving you comforting words until you fell asleep after he had made you feel so wonderful. 
Although you were feeling good now, the following morning would be a bitter testament to how you were digging yourself into a hole with no bottom, and the light wouldn't be there to save you.
 Alex received your email, and a pleasant blush crept onto his face along with a warm smile. He could picture you reading what he had written, your hands between your thighs, a happy expression on your face, and all giddy, unable to contain yourself in your chair. He appreciated how much you valued his feedback, but he knew how hardworking and intelligent you were. He wanted to help you realize that you were good on your own, not just because he believed it.
He ran his hand through his hair, feeling hot from the heat. Your notification had arrived on his phone, and being a seasoned university professor, he preferred to wait to access his laptop to read and respond to you properly if needed. He tried to get into the thing that he was used to teaching, but that wasn't entirely the case. While he found it tiresome to teach subjects he liked and found interesting when no one seemed interested, he enjoyed it when you were there for him, you were the exception (the teacher’s pet). The thought made him chuckle and bite his lip. It was tiring, but he liked it, except for all the social interaction that weighed on him.
He had just returned from the market after giving two lectures, and he had exceeded his limit for social interaction. Yet, seeing your email notification on the screen gave him the extra energy he needed for the rest of the day. Just the thought of your quick exchange earlier when he passed by you on the first floor during lunch, even if brief, brought a warmth to his chest. You smiled at him, waved, and whispered a "good day" or "have a good rest of your day, Professor." He always smiled back with a hand in the air, trying to keep his face relaxed, and he actually showed his teeth. He wasn't used to all this sweetness from his students and had never found himself making an effort for it, but with you, it was worth it.
Indeed, no one but you spoke directly to him out of pure, spontaneous will. If others did, he would remain serious, with a furrowed brow, and nod in agreement. He honestly preferred it that way, with no one besides you trying to have a small talk with him. He didn't dislike his students, but he didn't like flattery and dumb questions that could be avoided if they paid attention in class.
His head began to ache, and he noticed the sweat on his body, prickling and making him feel irritated. Stress was about to come back, but he remembered that he needed to read your email. He removed his belt, sliding it off his waist slowly and soon feeling relieved. He felt even better after unbuttoning all the buttons on his shirt and peeling it off. He quickly decided between taking a shower or reading your sweet words first, considering which order would leave him relaxed for longer so he could sleep. He knew that whatever he did, thoughts related to you would still linger in his mind until he fell asleep.
He sat on the bed, pulling the laptop toward him, and although he wasn't in a hurry, he found himself restless until the screen lit up, and he could access his account. Once he did, your simple message didn't fail to soften him. The excessive exclamation points reminded him of how young you were. It was like a letter, with your polite and correct punctuation. He could almost hear your voice as he read your words.
The way you called him "Mr. Turner" never failed to affect him. Others had addressed him this way, but it was different with you. Your eyes sparkled, your smile widened, your pupils got alive, and your pleasant face eagerly awaited for him to look at you and speak to you. He thought he was too old for this, and he certainly was, but he couldn't avoid how you had invaded his soul.
You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, but he felt like he was corrupting you. He felt dirty for getting so energized by giving you compliments he knew you liked to hear and then patting your back while seeing you happy about it. What the hell was he doing? And he couldn't deny that he found comfort in how beautiful you looked when you were frustrated, your eyes seemed more tired, and your breathing uneven when you were upset about one of his negative comments (sometimes he did it on purpose).
Feeling his own chest grow heavier and his mind getting increasingly lost, he opted for a shower, even though he was aware that idealizing you wouldn't end there. Now without clothes, under the shower, with you like a curse surrounding him, he realized just how messed up he was. He couldn't avoid it anymore, even though he didn't want to. He knew there was no turning back.
The words from your email clung to him as water flowed over his hair and down his shoulders. You had shown how much you appreciated him and knew his work, the care in choosing your words to praise him, and saying that you wanted to get to him in person soon to reinforce how much you had liked his feedback, the way would like to work through them and see you unravel in front of him because he noticed that your courage in emails wasn't the same as in person. He found that so adorable.
His overactive imagination was leading him to cute places related to you, but it was sparking other curiosities in him too, even though it was about how delicate and somewhat innocent he found you (although he would never admit it that way). Soon, he felt heavy, needing relief as the water splashed over him, and he sighed in exasperation at himself. He was being as pathetic as a teenager. Why couldn't he stop?
His breathing grew rigid, catching in his dry throat, and he allowed himself to be carried away by the flow of his fantasies. His hand ran over his abdomen, eyes tightly closed, hoping that this would make him feel less guilty about it. His thumb glided over the sensitive skin, and a soft sigh escaped his lips; he felt sore and swollen despite doing so little. He continued slowly but with precision. He believed that giving you pleasure wasn't such a difficult task; you would appreciate the touch no matter what. Not that it made him want to go easy on you. He felt like he could have his hands around your waist, squeezing your soft flesh with delight while admiring your breasts, giving them gentle bites and generous suckling that would make you gasp for air for extended periods. Your hands would be cradling the nape of his neck, fingers entwined in his tousled hair. He found comfort in this, feeling that he could make you feel the same way.
He also thought that your body would respond well to his. He was convinced that you were addicted to being a good girl, and that was not up for discussion. The way you melted under his compliments, listened to his harsh criticisms, and sought to improve upon them, you would deny any chance of being labeled a bad girl. As more moans escaped his lips, with the strength of his fingers unaltered, he thought about going a little harder on you, not to hurt, but to make you think about begging him to stop. The tears that would stream down the corners of your eyes as you tried to be good for him and take him in you just right. "You're doing so well, babygirl. You’re so good to me." You would open your bright eyes to him, feeling encouraged to continue being what he needed. He would clearly notice and slow down, accommodating his fingers on your clit and making you adjust to him with soft whimpers that made you endure and enjoy it until the end.
He also liked how you would react when he stimulated you to the extreme, your sensitivity and his desire to taste your essence on his tongue. He could say that you were as sweet as his last name sounded when you talked to him in class. He would tease you with his tongue, kissing you as if it were the only time and chance he had to touch you. And you would fight not to close your thighs around him, but as you were a good girl, you would succeed in keeping yourself spread open while he exhausted you a few more times. The thought of you reaching your peak, your eyes closed, and the tears he knew would be there because you did that when you got frustrated with his opinions on your writing, and your mouth slightly open with his name escaping, made him reach his climax. A deep, raspy groan echoed through the bathroom, his head heavy, and his shoulders feeling lighter and more satisfied. He worked his hand until the last drops came out and marked his stomach just before the water could wash it away down the drain.
He felt good, guilty, but his body wasn't saying that. "Fuck," he sighed, not knowing if it was relief or the headache that would come later due to this; it was getting worse to a dimension he hadn't imagined. He would surely ruin you if he continued; it wasn't as enjoyable as he wished.
Still, he got out of the shower and found himself picturing how you would snuggle up to him, your tired body and calm eyes enveloped by his, and how he would love to tell you stories until he saw you fall asleep safe in his arms or listen to you talk about your day. He liked your voice; it made him feel good. At this point, he desired you in all these ways, from the most profane to the most adorable, for your physical and emotional well-being.
You still haunted his dreams, so vividly that he reached out for you in bed. In his imagination, he had lifted you by the waist and placed you sitting on his desk. The remaining students had left, and he could revel in how your hands were trembling and your face was so delicate as you gazed at him. You used to wear knee-high socks with longer boots, and he found it sexy yet cute. He felt like you made things your own, that you gave life to them. And then he found himself pulling at that piece of clothing, your legs spreading apart, and he had to instruct you to stay quiet before someone noticed as his fingers touched between your thighs. He caressed over the damp fabric, nodding his head and waiting for you to do the same, indicating that you understood to stay calm and quiet. The door would be closed, but the glass window could still give you away. You were facing away from it, and if you behaved, everything would go smoothly.
Alex could feel you soaking through his fingers, making them slippery. You sucked on his finger skillfully, being such a great girl, and stayed still without him having to coax you into relaxing as he went deeper. Your sighs were adorable, and he felt himself getting hard. He woke up before he could make you reach your peak and realized that the dream had an effect on him. There, he knew that if given the opportunity, maybe he wouldn't be able to fight against what he wanted to do, purely out of morality.
The following week, there was no class with Turner due to some unforeseen circumstances of his. However, he was still around for the week. Being as observant as you were, you passed by the same spot at 12:45 on Friday, gave him a slight wave, and although you had planned to approach him and ask how he was, you didn't. That is, until he called out to you, causing your body to freeze and your heart to race, forcing you to get closer.
He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, his cheeks flushed and intense. You noticed his restlessness as you got to him; it was cute, not awkward. He held a coffee and had a cigarette between his fingers. He exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction to yours and got rid of it as soon as you arrived by his side.
"Are you good, Professor?" It didn't fail to make him nervous, but he still looked at you without understanding. "I'm sorry, I guess it's not my business; I just thought to ask out of politeness since I haven't seen you this week."
He laughed at how you stumbled over your words, and he didn't blame you; he felt the same way. The fact that he made you feel like your question was inappropriate even made his chest tighten a bit.
"It's okay, I had a routine check-up, but I'm fine," he replied briefly but nodded with a comfortable smile. He could see you swallowing nervously and how your fingers wouldn't stop moving while he had his eyes on you.
"I thought of a book for you, if you don't mind." Your eyes met his, and you seemed excited. "I really like it, and I thought you might like it too."
The idea that he had thought of you made your body tingle, and the rush of blood to your face drowned out the noise around you. You took the coffee from his hands, noticing how he fumbled with opening his bag, and the light touch of your skins made you wish for more—it was warm and soft.
He took out the book, handing it to you, and you nodded with a faint smile. You hugged the cover to yourself, avoiding his gaze for a moment. It felt insane being around him after all the things you did with him in mind. You weren't exactly proud of that. The collar of his striped T-shirt was carelessly folded, and the buttons you loved so much were unbuttoned, revealing his chest briefly. You wished you could fix it for him.
This time, he wore a dark blazer and flare jeans, and he was pleasant to look at. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, "I left notes in some parts so that I can know what you think later, if you'll allow me." Then you realized that he was doing this because he knew you needed to do well in his course to get into the master's program; still, you found it cute.
"Oh, yes, I can write to you when I finish, right?" He agreed, knowing that he would be waiting for your email in the coming weeks.
"I'm glad to know you're okay, Mr. Turner," you said awkwardly, your face fervently hot, and thanked him for the book. As you turned around, you felt his hand on your wrist; it wasn't as soft as before, but it was comforting, with the fingertips firmer as he squeezed your skin. Then, your eyes met his with a raised eyebrow.
"I need you to give me back my coffee, pet," he said playfully, and your knees weakened a bit. He felt pleased to be able to contemplate you in his mind.
The heat had taken its toll on Alex. He had left his blazer in the car and decided to visit one of the open bars near the campus. His hands rested inside his pockets as he patiently waited for his juice and water, yearning for the moment when he could finally get home and enjoy a cold beer. It was his final class of the afternoon, which meant it was getting quite late, and the students were scattered around. While the bar wasn't overly crowded, he could still recognize a few faces.
As soon as the chilled cup was placed in his hands, he caught sight of you with your back turned. You were wearing your signature knee-high socks and boots, but this time, you had opted for a skirt and a tank top, giving you a more relaxed and comfortable appearance. You looked stunning. With you engaged in conversation with a friend he had glimpsed from a distance, you were all smiles and animated hand gestures, bringing life to the scene.
Realizing he was staring, Alex chided himself and tried to divert his attention back to his juice. Yet, within a few minutes, his gaze involuntarily returned to you. Now, you were alone, engrossed in his book that sat next to you, its pages marked to indicate that you had already begun reading. A smile of satisfaction graced his lips; he had strategically placed notes between the pages for you to discover, hoping you would notice.
You sipped from an orange beverage, and Alex decided not to speculate whether it contained alcohol. However, he knew you weren't intoxicated when you suddenly turned towards him and greeted him with a friendly wave. He felt momentarily caught off guard but managed to offer a warm wave in return, nodding to acknowledge you. Your smile was radiant, and he couldn't help but notice how different you appeared outside the confines of the classroom. He longed for the opportunity to engage with you in a context that wasn't purely academic, but he was well aware that pursuing such a connection might be detrimental to both of you.
You turned back to your previous position, sipping your drink through a straw, while still sneakily stealing glances at him. Alex deliberated whether to linger a bit longer for your sake. The table you occupied was well-lit, offering a refreshing ambiance that was perfect for a summer day. The atmosphere was delightful, and he could easily imagine you enjoying such a setting regularly.
He held his bottle of water, pondering the ethical implications of sitting with you while you were alone. His initial plan was to finish his drink and then leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do that—not for his sake, but for yours. It wouldn't be fair to you. He feared the potential consequences would fall squarely on your shoulders rather than his own.
He shook his head and eventually decided to leave. As you lowered your head into his hands, he waited for a few more minutes, half-expecting you to look his way. But it didn't happen.
Then everything seemed to happen very quickly. He returned to his car, leaving behind the water and even starting the engine before realizing he had left his wallet inside. He hesitated but ultimately turned back, despite his frustration over forgetting his documents.
His wallet was still where he had left it. He retrieved it and then shifted his attention to you, curious and attentive. Your hands were fidgeting with your socks, as if attempting to wipe away sweat. A boy was seated in front of you, but your attention was elsewhere. The guy sported a smile that made Alex uncomfortable on your behalf.
Your discomfort was palpable, yet you seemed powerless to do anything about it. You turned to the side, your head moving away from the boy, and as you gasped for air, the guy's grin widened. Your elbows dropped onto your knees, and your hands moved to pull your hair away from your face. You appeared more sweaty than usual, and you felt increasingly weak.
As you realized your strength was waning, the boy signaled for someone else to assist you. You resisted, but they gently pushed you back into your chair to prevent you from collapsing. They weren't being nice about it.
For Alex, that was the tipping point. He strode over to them and forcefully removed the boy's hand from your arm. "Get away from her," his stern voice reverberated, and you didn't understand what was happening, but you knew you didn't feel well.
The guys attempted to speak over Alex, trying to explain themselves, even though there was no justification for their actions. Their chatter only served to irritate him further. He held onto you, his hand caressing your face, and your eyes were half-closed; you were clearly not in a good state.
After another remark from the boys, Alex glared at the boy with an even more intense hatred. His brow furrowed, and his tone grew sharper. "Just stay away from her; I won't let her be alone with you," he warned, making it clear that they should not attempt such behavior with anyone else either.
The boys exchanged nervous glances and silently agreed to leave, though Alex couldn't have cared less about them at that moment.
"What’re you feeling, pet?" He placed his hands on his knees, lowering himself to your level. You were dazed, your skin tingling, and you weren't sure what to say, or if you could say anything at all. Alex considered asking where you lived and offering to take you home, but he suspected you lived in the vicinity of the campus, and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to be seen with you in this state. Taking you to his own home didn't seem like a good idea either, but he did live nearby, and it appeared to be the most reasonable option.
He cupped your face in his hands, close enough to smell your scent once again. You smiled faintly, your eyes still distant but focusing on him. You were conscious, just not in the best condition. "I don't want to stay here; my head is spinning," you mumbled, not entirely sure what was wrong. It could have been due to poor nutrition or dehydration, you thought.
"Look, I'll stay with you ‘til you feel better, alright?" he spoke gently, as if soothing a baby. You nodded, his touch on your cheek making you lean into his warmth. As he thought about reaching out to your forehead with his lips, he realized where he was and quickly pulled back, rising to his feet with you leaning on him for support.
Alex gently sat you in the passenger seat, and you huddled in front of him, noticeably self-conscious about your attire. He chuckled warmly, pulling his blazer from the back seat. You felt cradled by his presence as he slipped the fabric over your arms and fastened the buttons around your midsection. It resembled a short dress, making you feel more comfortable, and it carried a pleasant scent. Your stomach still tingled, and you were aware that it was because of him and not whatever had happened earlier.
He rested your head against the headrest, his serene eyes guiding you, and he didn't seem regretful about helping you, despite the crease between his brows. Then he fastened your seatbelt and handed you his water bottle. Your vision was blurry, and sudden movements hurt, but he wasn't a saint, and he had a rough view of how you must be feeling. He'd been your age before, although thankfully, in his case, it had been a result of a spontaneous choice.
"I'll wait a bit before starting the car, alright?" he suggested, and you nodded. He gently led the bottle to your lips, encouraging you to drink a substantial portion of it. He wiped your chin and face with the hem of his T-shirt, and you followed his every move, your attention fixated on him. Without the blazer, he looked even better, and you lightly held his wrist. He seemed concerned, but you did it because you wanted to and felt that you could, even though you'd never been this close before. "Thank you, Mr. Turner," you said casually, as if it didn't affect him profoundly.
As he sat down on the driver's side of the car, he closed the tinted windows, feeling safer with that precaution. He still worried about putting you in danger. He waited, knowing that feeling dizzy along with drinking water wouldn't be a good combination, even though he had insisted on it to help your body recover more quickly. He could hear your calm breathing, which put him at ease. You had closed your eyes, your mouth slightly ajar, and he looked at you, allowing himself to be captivated by every detail. He carefully adjusted your hair to prevent it from catching on the seat and strands from being pulled, whispering, "You can sleep; everything’ll be alright, I promise, little one." You found yourself charmed by the pet name, involuntarily smiling, and he made a mental note that you like it. Your arms lightly touched, and with the comforting scent of him surrounding you, you drifted into a light sleep. It was strange to be in such a bad situation with an outcome that neither of you regretted. He kept the radio off until reaching your destination. He’d never drive without music. 
… 
Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as you realized you were leaning on him for support. Your forehead was resting on his shoulder, his soft T-shirt against your skin. He was more comforting to touch than your mind had led you to trust. He was kneeling in front of you while you sat on the bed. You no longer felt dizzy, but you were weak, with not all your senses fully present. Alex's hands delicately removed your earrings and necklaces, and it was nice to have him so close, a bit surreal. You almost believed you could be a doll with how he was treating you. He moved back, laying you down on his bed, and he smiled at you as a way to reassure you that everything was okay. You grabbed his arm, afraid he would leave. Alex quickly shook his head. "Hey, little one, I'm not going anywhere. I just need to get some water for you and something to dry your face." He sounded caring, making you want to cry because you knew this was wrong. But why did it feel so right?
"Promise?" You asked, not into the idea of falling into a deep sleep and when you wake up he wouldn't be there to call you little one anymore. He nodded, extending his pinky finger to seal the promise. The silence without him wasn't comforting; you felt like there were monsters under the bed. Still out of mind about time and space, you realized you were in his room, which made you feel even more fragile. The room had a light blue color, seemed well-lit during the day, had books scattered in an organized manner, and two guitars hanging on the wall. That made you put your hand over your mouth as you imagined how his fingers would behave playing those strings. You wanted to hug him, to let the scent and the soft chest lull you to sleep again. Your head was noisy, and you didn't like it.
When he returned, he moved in slow motion to you. He wiped your face and neck with a damp cloth, and you wondered why he was alone. He was a good man; you had thought about that before. Alex wouldn't sleep next to you, but he would stay with you as long as you needed him. He sat with his back against the headboard, looking at you for a moment. It was too late; this was no longer just a casual situation. You'd have to talk about it; you had formed a bond. Although you were scared, Alex liked it.
You asked him to lie down, and he complied. You were side by side, facing each other. Your eyelids struggled to close, but first they followed your fingers as they roamed his face. You traced the gentle lines at the corner of his eye, then the bridge of his nose. He was handsome. Sometimes you wanted to forget that he was older than you, even though you liked him that way. Your hand then touched his rough stubble, and he smiled when he saw you smiling at him. It was like a dream, like you had imagined and even better.
In an abrupt and unquestionably unplanned proceed, your hand hooked onto the collar of his T-shirt, pulling yourself closer. It was a light pull, and in the blink of an eye, your lips were on his, tender and airless. They lingered there, just touching, feeling each other's warmth and the mixing of breaths. Your hand pressed against his chest and held him to yourself, like he could heal you. You moved your lips with his slowly, warmly, and precisely, enjoying in a comfortable sigh every second of it, until he broke into a sigh of reality. He couldn't be doing this, not with you like this. Not wanting to startle you, he sealed your cheeks and nose a few countless times before planting small forehead kisses when he needed to refuse your touch. He felt guilty, but he wouldn't deny that it had been good, way better than he had fantasized. There were no words, and none were needed; both of you were aware of it. Although he thought you might not be as much, he feared you might not even remember this when you woke up.
Alex held your palm against his chest until you fell asleep. Then he got up, covered your body with a warm sheet, and left you there. Unable to restrain himself from touching your face before and stroking your hair. The next day, you would wake up, wondering if it had been a vivid dream or not. But his room would leave no doubts, with the guitars, the well-lit atmosphere, and his blazer still carrying his scent on you. You didn't know how you were going to talk to him after that, you thought about how he must think of you as a kid who doesn't know how to be in the real world. This time, however, you noticed a photo on the bedside table. He was hugging a woman while kissing her forehead. She had a neatly cut fringe and an angelic face; she was very pretty, and it made you feel insecure. She was around his age. You were wrong to be there, and then you got that the bed you were on was a double bed. You wanted to run away even though your head was pounding. Professor Turner might act like a good man, but he was still a man. Above all, you tried to think well of him; perhaps it was a divorce, right? You would have noticed the ring on his finger if he were married. He wouldn't take off the ring, would he? But why was that photo still there? You quickly got up, failing to remain composed when you saw that he had left a note and some money in case you needed to call an Uber. You couldn't just read it right away. You wanted to believe he was good, but it hurt. You felt used even though you hadn't done anything. Yet, you still felt like you wanted him around more often because you felt good with him. In the middle of class, Alex struggled with impatience, hoping you wouldn't leave without taking the note and the snack he had left for you, so you would have his number and be safe. But it didn't happen, at least not when he expected it to. 
...
taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams
(lmk if you want to be in or out of the taglist!)
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moviecritc · 13 days
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Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕
obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux
pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux
warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)
a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33
Remember that requests are open 💕💕
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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yourusername just posted!
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 145,824 others
yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙
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user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip
charlesleclerc 💜😍
user2 so dry
user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles
user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101
sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜
user5 IM SO IN LOVE
user5 that i might stop breathing
user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness
user7 GOALS.
user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out
user9 it's giving taylor and joe
user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations
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When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.
Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.
Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.
She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.
Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.
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Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.
Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.
So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.
When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.
yousername just posted!
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yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎
the comments have been restricted
alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙
sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩
gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.
chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.
laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.
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She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.
"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.
"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.
She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.
"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.
Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."
"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."
Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.
"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.
"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.
"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.
"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.
Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.
"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.
"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.
They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.
Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.
As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.
"No," she denied vehemently.
Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.
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Five months later
alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!
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[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]
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bellarkeselection · 5 months
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Best Solution to a Headache
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Y/n and Cole are best friends and dating. Y/n always gets migraines but this time the reader is in so much pain where she’s just being clingy and cuddly to Cole
Walking through the school hallway I tried to not bump into too many people since it would only make the pain in my head feel worse. My backpack was hanging over one shoulder when I bumped into somebody at the same time a sharp pain rang through head. “Hey, watch it.” The kid snapped at me where we tripped onto the tile ground.
I scramble to my feet trying to grab my stuff right before I caught sight of a familiar wave of blonde hair coming through the crowd. “Hey chill out man. It was an accident. Y/n, you okay?” He asked me offering me his hand helping me to my feet.
“Thanks Cole…ohh!” I winced covering my forehead with my free hand closing my eyes briefly.
His eyes focused on mine. “Here let’s get you somewhere else. So what’s wrong with your head. Is it the migraines again?” He draped his arm over my shoulder holding me close while we moved through the crowd and found an empty staircase sitting down on the steps.
“Yeah…it feels like my head is splitting so bad.” I groaned laying my head on his chest with his arm still draped over my shoulder.
Cole whispers running his fingers through my hair knowing that sometimes helps the migraine go away or not be as painful for me. “I’m sorry, baby.” Cole and I had just recently started dating each other a few months ago. But before that we have been best friends our whole lives. Erin was picking on me saying one day that she didn’t understand what Cole saw in me as a friend. He didn’t like hearing that and that moment he realized he didn’t want anyone else but you in his life.
“I just want to crawl up with you. The pain hasn’t ever been this bad and my medication isn’t helping very much.” I moaned shifting my body so my head was laying in his lap and he kept running his fingers through my hair.
He didn’t like that you felt this way and he couldn’t really do anything about it since you were at school. He had some of your medicine at his house. I had told him about my migraine when they started happening when we were in our first year of middle school. I got them from my mother since she occasionally got them too. “How about we get out of here and I take you home for the day?”
“You mean skip school. Cole, I can’t miss English we have a paper due in a few weeks.” I tried to explain covering my eyes with my hands feeling some more pain come when I attempted to sit upright.
He shakes his head making his blonde hair fall in front of his eyes. “I don’t care about that. Besides you don’t look like you are in any position to go sit through anymore classes. We are going home.”
“What about your siblings and Jackie. They’ll need a ride home.” I questioned him slowly sitting up when he got to his feet.
He tugs me up to stand with him. “I’ll tex Alex that I might be late picking them up.”
“If you say so, Cole.” I replied looping my hand through his and together we slowly walked out of the school backdoor to his truck. We drove to my house and I used my key since my parents were at work and wouldn’t be home until like five tonight.
Shutting the door gently I winced just wanting to lay down. I stumbled to the couch grabbing a blanket and just covering myself with it. Cole dropped our bags at the door grabbing some pain meds from the bathroom cabinet before coming to sit with me. “Are you feeling better now?” He asked softly once I take the medicine with some water.
“Yes much better…” I trailed off snuggling into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around my waist after getting underneath the cover.
Cole smiled laying his head on top of my head just holding me in silence for a minute. He wouldn’t ever say it out loud to others but he couldn’t imagine you not being in his life. “That’s good. I’m glad you agreed with my idea.”
“Cause otherwise you’d be worried about me all day but never show it on your face.” I responded lifting my head slightly so I could stare into his bright green eyes.
He leans down kissing my forehead when I lay my head back down in the crook of his neck falling asleep. “You’re darn right, darling.” He closes his eyes falling asleep with you cuddled up in his arms.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun @bbabycass
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fazedlight · 3 months
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Confusion (Late S6 vibes. I found a use for William… I’m sorry?)
The Catco elevators opened to a chaotic scene as Lena stepped out. Despite being afterhours - it had just passed 6pm - employees were shuffling around everywhere, with frequent murmurs and occasional shouts flying by.
“Looking for Kara?” Nia said, passing by Lena while holding a large stack of papers on the brink of falling. Lena opened her mouth to speak, but Nia didn’t wait for an answer. “She’ll be back in a few minutes, I think she’s meeting with Andrea.”
Lena nodded as Nia quickly disappeared into the backrooms. Guess this is normal when they crash the issue, Lena thought, making her way to Kara’s desk and setting down the mocha and pastries she had brought from Noonan’s. She had been lucky to get there just before closing, after Kara’s text that they’d have to skip movie night in favor of a late night at work.
“Lena,” came a deep voice behind her, “What are you doing here?”
Lena turned, nodding to William as he approached. “Just bringing Kara some stuff,” she said, gesturing to Kara’s desk. “Late night for you too?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Hopefully the last, before I move back to London.”
“You’re moving?”
“Looking forward to going home,” William said. “I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. Just enough time to hand off my responsibilities at Catco.”
“Going back to The Times?” Lena asked.
William nodded. His eyes drifted to the coffee and sweets, and Lena noticed a tinge of confusion. “I best get going,” he said, not remarking on what he was thinking. “The senator’s fraud case means I have an article to rewrite.”
“Good luck,” Lena said, as he waved and left. Lena turned back, finding Kara as she rounded the corner with Andrea. Kara met Lena’s eyes, and the blonde smiled wide.
---
“You smell like smoke,” Lena said, brushing ash off of Kara’s shoulder, eyeing the charcoal hues that tinged her supersuit.
“A forest fire will do that,” Kara said, practically shaking like a dog to get other ash off her hair. “Luckily we got it before it spread very far.”
William glanced over curiously from where he was jotting notes. He had been working with Alex and Brainy on mapping out city hotspots when Supergirl had arrived back from her firefighting. It hadn’t taken long for Lena to make her way out of the lab and go up to the super.
“I think we gotta spray you down,” Lena teased.
“Brainy said the nanobots can handle it,” Kara said, tossing her hair back. “I just gotta deactivate at some point.”
“Yeah, you gonna get around to that soon?”
“Will you two knock it off?” Alex said, her voice aggrieved. “Some of us are trying to get work done.”
The two had the good sense to look a little bashful, and William glanced over curiously. From his side, he could hear Alex mutter “just good friends, my ass”, and he watched as Supergirl threw her head up towards Alex, flushing slightly, and seeming suddenly unable to look a confused Lena in the eye.
This is going a bit too far, William thought, eyes darting to Lena. Flirting with Kara? And Supergirl?
---
“Well, it’s been great working with you,” Supergirl said, extending her hand.
William returned the gesture, then doing similar with Alex, and J’onn, and Lena. “Please do keep in touch,” he said. “I’d love to hear from you when you’re back in London.”
“Have a safe fli-” Supergirl suddenly turned her head.
“Something going on?” Alex asked. 
“Bank robbery downtown. Might be a big one,” Supergirl said. “Safe flight, William. We’ll see you later.”
William nodded as Supergirl left, J’onn and Alex following. That left him behind with Lena, who didn’t frequent the field unless magic was afoot. Which left him a bit grateful for the chance…
“Well, William-”
“Don’t break her heart, Lena.”
Lena’s brows furrowed, utterly perplexed. “What?”
“I see you,” William said, a serious expression on his face. “The way you flirt with Supergirl. The way you flirt with Kara.”
“Kara- flirt-” Lena’s eyes widened.
“Look, they’re both clearly interested in you,” William said. “All I’m saying is be clear with your intentions. Kara doesn’t deserve a broken heart.”
“I don’t have intentions. With- with either of them,” Lena answered.
William’s face tensed with skepticism. I’ve said my piece, he decided. “It’s been great working with you, Lena.”
---
William tilted his head back against the plane’s headrest. The 5hrs from National City to Metropolis had been annoying enough. Now it’d be another 6hrs to London. I hope I can get more sleep this flight, he thought, glancing out over the Atlantic Ocean. 
He looked down at the gossip rag he had purchased in Metropolis Airport, beginning to flip through it. It was mindless garbage, hopefully boring enough to lull him to sleep. 
As he turned the pages, he was surprised to find a picture of Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor - but then again, it was only a matter of time. It’s just so fucking obvious, William thought, wondering if the tabloid suspicions would force Lena to choose.
But he was also unsettled - it was an odd location. To any casual reader, it would simply be a random picture on the street, the two perhaps on the way to get a cup of coffee. But he knew they were just feet away from the Tower. A location that, according to Alex Danvers, Kara had no awareness of.
He stared, and stared. Would Lena be so foolish to ask Kara to meet there?, he thought, knowing the Luthor was too smart to make such a casual mistake.
That’s when his already-jetlagged brain began to scan Kara again. The blonde hair. The emphatic voice. The way she fiddled with her glasses. The way Lena flirted with her, just like- 
Wait, William thought, startling awake with a shot of adrenaline. Wait, WHAT?!
---
It was early morning when Lena took her seat at a lab bench, her mind still swimming from William’s observation the day before. Have I really been that obvious?, she wondered to herself. Does Kara know? And if she does, she hasn’t said anything because… 
Lena put her face in hands. God, I hope I haven’t been making a fool of myself.
“Are you okay?” came a voice.
Lena’s head popped up, finding Kara wandering into her lab, a hint of concern highlighting the blonde’s face. “Your heartbeat is fast,” Kara said, “I just came over to - to see if something was wrong.”
“I’m fine,” Lena said, her voice a high-pitched squeak.
“Lena,” Kara said, taking a seat next to Lena, pulling her into a hug. “Lena, I’m here.”
Lena sighed, relaxing into Kara’s arms. What am I so afraid of?, she thought to herself. That Kara doesn’t feel the same way? That our friendship will change? While the first was the only likelihood Lena could really see, the second… just didn’t seem like a real possibility. 
Lena pulled back from the hug, gazing into Kara’s face. Didn’t we learn we should be honest so long ago?, she thought. Even when it’s hard? “William… said choose,” Lena said slowly, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “Between Kara and Supergirl.”
“Choose?” Kara said, confused.
“I’ve, er,” Lena swallowed harshly. “I’ve apparently been flirting. With both of you.”
Kara’s eyes widened. “On purpose?”
“No…”
“Oh.”
She sounds… disappointed?, Lena thought, and she knew Kara could hear her heart beginning to pound a little faster. “I- I can do it on purpose? If you want.”
And this time Lena felt a growing joy in watching Kara flush. “I’d like that. And, um,” Kara paused, shifting shyly. “Maybe after we do that for a while, I can ask you on a date?”
Lena smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
------------------------
This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. I did do a 9-word fic for it - but then I figured hey, may as well write out the full thing.
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del-thetiredwriter · 1 year
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Mafia au/ Good Luck while running away from the mafia part 1
Intro , part 0.5 , part 2 , part 3
Notes: Guess what I’m back . To be honest I didn’t quite like it but anyway I’m posting it and I can’t write fight scenes ( ̄▽ ̄;). It’s so exhausting.
Tags: @loivre , @randomlyappearingartist , @serenity-loves-red , @hasty-desert , @moonlight-nightwing , @hrhqueenfox , @oceanside-pixie
Warning: cursing, fighting, blood, shooting, Yandere stuff…
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“Riddle-san, what are you doing, sir?”
At the question, Riddle briefly lifted his eyes from the documents and looked at you.
“I was just wondering about a thing.” He replied.
You looked around at the files arranged in order. All of them had one thing in common: betrayal, crime, wrong, etc. against the organizations punishments .
“I was really curious about what caught Riddle-san's attention. What could possibly make you go through even the files from the old manager Trein-sensei's time?"
Riddle smiled.
"Don't worry, you'll find out soon." said Riddle.
You were suddenly startled by the sound of footsteps. Apparently you fell asleep. You're not normally someone who sleeps a lot, but for the past two weeks you haven't been able to sleep properly.
After leaving the organization or rather escaping, you temporarily settled in a remote coastal city where you hoped they'd find you a little late. With a little help, you changed your identity, your phone line, everything. You've removed everything that indicates Y/n L/n.
Life here was calmer compared to your old life. You wished you could stay here forever. But you knew they would find you eventually. You lived ,one night in your sleep afraid that they would find you at your most vulnerable moment.
You were currently working in a cafe. Although it may seem a little illogical, working at the cafe, which was open until midnight, was actually a little better for you. The more people around you, the easier it is to avoid them.
"Yo!" You turned the way you came. Your colleague Alex was glaring at you with his arms folded.
“Yuu, what are you doing in the camera room again, are you skipping work again?”
'Yuu' is your new identity that you created to make it harder for them to find you while running away. You still had a hard time getting used to the name.
“No, Alex. I just- "
"Anyway, I'm going downstairs. You have the upstairs okay?"
You nodded and Alex left the room. You looked at the clock, it was 10:00 pm. You stretched yourself and yawned. Two more hours until the end of the shift.
As you were about to get up, your eyes were caught by the cameras. Your eyes widened in panic at what you saw. You watched three people enter the cafe. You'll recognize those red hair, those grins, those faces wherever you see them. Heartslabyul found you. No, they all found you. You clenched your teeth, your time was limited.
The reason you spent most of your time in the camera room was because you could see everything from here. You quickly grabbed your gun from the locked drawer and loaded it. Deuce and Cater took a table downstairs near the front exit. Ace was walking up the stairs.
You took a deep breath. You should have thought fast. You should have gotten out of here . But for that you had to go down the stairs first.
You went behind the door and waited. You waited for Ace to find you.
Look at the cameras. It was approaching. You gripped your gun tightly. And the door opened. You punched the poor boy in the face as the door opened.
“Agh-“ A bitter moan broke out from Ace.
Before he could draw his gun, you kicked him in the stomach and dropped it to the ground.
“Agh- it's been a long time and the first thing you do when you see me is attack me? Really Y/n.” Ace grinned . Clutching his nose, which was bleeding from your punch.
You muttered, "Bastard."
“Come on Y/n didn't you miss me? I missed you so much." He tried to punch you, but you avoided him. You both started to struggle. Ace might have been strong, but you were more experienced and stronger than him. You grabbed him by the head and knocked him to the ground. Before he could regain his balance, you took his tie and tied him with it.
“What am I going to miss about you, you sadistic bastard!”
You picked up the gun on the ground.
“What? Are you going to shoot me ?” Ace said in a tone you didn't like.
“You have to stop asking questions you know the answer to.”
At 11:00 pm, screams broke out in a cafe with the sound of 'bang' gunfire. Everyone in the cafe began to flee desperately, except for two people. The two men, one with red hair and the other with black hair, started to make their way to the upper floor of the cafe.
“Do you think who shot whom, hmm~” Cater asked the younger one.
As the two of them went upstairs, the power went out suddenly and the whole cafe was plunged into darkness.
“Looks like Y/n-chan won.” said Cater to himself.
“Let's separate . You stay here, Y/n has to use the stairs before they can get out of the cafe.” Cater instructed.
“Okay, sir.” said Deuce.
You held your breath under the table. You waited for Cater's footsteps to go away. You were the one who cut the electricity. Five minutes later the generator would start working . You should have gotten out of here by then. Finally, making sure that Cater was far enough away, you slowly came out from under the table. No matter how hard you tried not to make a sound, Deuce heard you.
“Y/n? Is this you ?"
Now that his eyes were accustomed to the dark, he could barely make out your silhouette. Everything happened so abruptly. You took a chair and hit Deuce with it. While he was stunned by the blow, you ran downstairs with your names and the electricity came back. Your five minutes were up.
When the lights were turned on, an unexpected sight was in front of you.
Riddle was sitting at a table eating strawberry pie as if nothing had happened.
“Ah, Y/n you finally came down. I was getting really bored waiting for you.” He said while taking a slice of the pie.
You pointed your gun at him. "Get out of my way if you don't-"
"It's been a long time since we've seen each other, Y/n, but will you put that gun down?" A familiar voice said as you turned around and saw Trey pointing his gun at you. As always, even in this state, he was smiling gently at you.
“Tch. What do you want ? Why are you here?" You asked questions that you know very well the answer to.
Riddle smiled.
“Y/n L/n you are posing a great danger to the organization right now. You also have cases of injuring my men. You understand what I'm trying to say, right?"
"Get out of my way or I'll shoot you."
Riddle laughed.
“You won’t t kill me, you can't. Just like we can't do to you. Now if you drop that gun, I'll do my best to mitigate your sentence."
This was clearly a lie. You grit your teeth. You smiled calmly and did as he said. You slowly put your gun down and raised your hands in the air.
“Well done, here it is. I wish you would always listen to my words like this. Now let's go back." said Riddle.
“Sorry Riddle but I won't be back!” You said and detonated the smoke bomb you were hiding. The area was suddenly covered with fog. You quickly walked out the front door through that mess and got into your car.
“Get them quick!” Riddle shouted.
You quickly drove away. There was no turning back anymore. The Game has started.
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berrybaps · 1 month
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Oc introduction time! Again :3
Meet iris! :D✨💕
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More info after the cut!
°Information i have of her as of now✨
Iris is 26 years old!
She works at pigsy's noodles! helps with cleaning and even cook the noodles as well, maybe also bake a few of her desserts for costumers to help with pigsy's business!
Yes, just like lian, she has a skill for baking as well
Although being a good baker, she actually doesn't like sweets that much, she likes her food a bit more salty
Her favorite food are just any noodles (y'know where that started)
Actually more timid and soft spoken than lian, she only speaks when necessary
Iris wants to build a bakery of her own but due to the events that has been happening at the recent seasons, SHE CANNOT ☝️
Acts like a big sister to the traffic light trio :3
She's half filipino half chinese!
Lives in an apartment near pigsy's noodle shop
Iris started obtaining the abilities of a red panda demon as soon as she puts on that neck accessory that was given to her by her grandmother.
Unlike lian who can control her emotions very well, iris cannot! She's very emotional so it was harder for her to deal with her newly found abilities.
As you can see from the ref sheets, her original hair color is reddish brown!
Some likes and dislikes✨
Likes
I already did state this but she LOVES noodles, it might even be considered an addicti—
She likes to draw too, not as much as baking though
Probably loves listening to songs from Alex G—
She loves collecting anything pink that catches her eyes, so as soon as you come in her apartment, prepare to feast your eyes upon many pink trinkets and plushies she has—
Dislikes
She HATES being compared, she used to be compared to a lot of kids back in her childhood so the hatred feeling of being compared to has stuck to her til she was an adult—
Probably dislikes loud places. with her newly found abilities her hearing became more sensitive.
She dislikes cutting her hair, she will trim it if it gets ridiculously long though!
FINALLY got to post her as well, Iris is the main oc i have that are involved with the lmk gang so it would be fun to figure out how she'll fit in on every episodes of the seasons :3, I'll have to post more ocs in the future hopefully YES I HAVE MORE!!
Bonus : Lmk Edits of her! (She looks a little different from these cause these are old ☝️)
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waytooinvested · 2 months
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Fic: Small Problem...
A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19
.............
There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.
She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.
As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.
Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.
Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.
J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.
And Kara was-
Not there.
Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.
‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.
‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’
Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.
‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’
Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.
‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.
Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.
‘Oh, that can’t be good…’
Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.
‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’
Lena froze.
The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.
‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’
‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’
‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’
They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.
‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.
The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.
It couldn’t be… could it?
She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.
Nothing.
Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.
‘Woah! The room’s moving!’
Ah hah.
Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.
‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’
‘Yes! How did you know that?’
‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’
They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.
Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.
‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.
And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.
‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.
She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.
‘I… shrank?’
‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.
Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.
‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.
In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.
Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.
‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’
Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.
Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.
‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’
‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.
She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.
‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.
Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.
Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.
As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.
It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.
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mswritergirl02 · 2 months
Text
Pure Paranoia 
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Summary: Y/n smokes for the first time and gets too high
->Reader Advisory: This story involves themes related to marijuana use. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to or uncomfortable with such content.
A/N : This is my very first post ! I’m excited to see where this account goes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n sat on the edge of Riah's couch, her fingers nervously tapping against her thigh as she watched her friends pass around a joint. The sweet scent of marijuana filled the air, swirling around her like a seductive dance, tempting her to join in.
Riah noticed Y/n's hesitation and leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Come on, Y/n, don't be such a goody-two-shoes. Just one hit won't hurt."
 Zela nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 
"Yeah, you've gotta try it at least once! It's not like you're doing anything wrong."
Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had always been the innocent one of the group, never straying too far from her comfort zone. The thought of smoking weed for the first time sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.
"I don't know, guys. I've never smoked marijuana before," Y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 
Riah rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can call it weed, Y/n come on, Live a little! You're always so uptight."
Zela chimed in, her voice gentle but persuasive. "It's not a big deal, Y/n. Just take a puff and see how you feel. You might like it."
With a shaky breath, Y/n reached out and accepted the joint, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. The smoke burned her throat, making her cough and sputter as she tried to inhale.
"Easy there, girl," Riah teased, patting her back as she handed her a soda can.
Five hits later Y/n found herself sipping on that same can, trying to calm her racing heart as the effects of the weed began to take hold.
At first, it was just a pleasant buzz, a feeling of warmth and relaxation washing over her like a gentle wave. But as the minutes ticked by, Y/n's world began to spin out of control. 
The room seemed to warp and distort around her, the colors bleeding together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and sound.
“Hey, have I told you about that guy I met last weekend?"
Zela's interest was piqued, and she turned to Riah with a grin. 
"No, spill the tea! What's his deal?"
Riah chuckled, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. "Well, his name is Alex, and let me tell you, he's got some serious charm. We hit it off right away."
Zela's eyes widened in excitement. "Ooh, sounds promising. What's he like?"
Riah's smile widened, her cheeks flushing with color. "He's funny, for one thing. And he's got this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you're the only person in the room."
Zela nudged Riah playfully, a teasing grin on her face. "Sounds like someone's got a crush."
Riah's cheeks grew even redder, but she couldn't suppress the grin that spread across her face. "Maybe I do. But don't tell anyone, okay? I want to see where this goes first."
Zela winked, her smile knowing. "Your secret's safe with me. Just remember to play it cool, okay? You don't want to scare him off."
Y/n tried hard to focus on the conversation swirling around her, but the words seemed to slip through her fingers like grains of sand. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she struggled to keep her composure. She felt as if every part of her body was twitching. 
How does anyone enjoy this?
"Y/n, are you okay?" Riah's voice cut through the fog of Y/n's mind, filled with concern.
Shit speak you haven’t said anything in 10 minutes
Y/n nodded, her mouth dry as cotton as she tried to form words. Taking another sip of her soda she mumbled, "I'm fine, just...just a little lightheaded."
Oh god, I feel nauseous. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n's heart raced with panic as she sat in the backseat of her friend's car, the effects of the weed controlling her mind. What would she tell Harry? Would he notice? With his friends over, the thought of facing their judgment sent a shiver down her spine.
Of course, he’s going to know your high anyone in their right mind could see you’re tripping fucking balls. 
God, I wish Riah would roll up her window I’m freezing.
As they pulled up to her apartment building, Y/n plastered on a fake smile and told her friends goodbye, trying to hide the turmoil raging inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. 
She dragged her now heavy feet up the stairs and pulled out her keychain trying to unlock the front door to her and Harry’s shared apartment but instead, her tangled keychain slipped from her trembling fingers and fell to the floor.
"Fuck," she cursed under her breath, pushing her now knotted hair from her face bending down to pick them up.
Why the fuck are there so many keys on this thing. I should really take some off... I don't even use half of these keys.
She finally managed to grasp the key and insert it into the lock, but her mind was so clouded with panic that she struggled to turn it.
Inside, Harry and his friends exchanged curious glances as they heard the commotion outside the door. 
Why won’t this fucking door op-
Before Harry could get up to investigate, the door swung open and Y/n stumbled inside, her hair messy and her bloodshot red eyes wide with panic.
As she entered, Harry's gaze met hers, and she saw the flicker of concern in his eyes. His raised eyebrow didn't escape her notice, sending a shiver of unease down her spine.
Act normal. Act fucking normal.
"Hey," she stammered, her voice barely audible as she tried to break the suffocating silence. She couldn’t help but feel as though all of their eyes were staring into her soul.
They know
Harry's expression softened slightly, but she could still see the worry etched into his features. "Welcome home love, you alright?," he questioned gently, his gentle british accent a soothing presence amidst the tension.
Y/n forced a smile, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, just had a bit of trouble with my keys," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze as she shuffled past him and his friends.
Harry frowned, but before he could press further, his friends' curious stares reminded him of their presence. Clearing his throat, he turned to face them with a forced grin. "Alright, lads, back to business. Who's up for another round of—"
But Y/n's voice cut through his words, her stomach growling loudly as she caught sight of the pizza box sitting on the kitchen table. Her mouth watered at the delicious aroma 
"Pizza?" she blurted out, her eyes widening with hunger as she made a beeline for the box.
Harry's friends exchanged amused glances, their lips quirking up in smirks as they watched Y/n's eager reaction. 
Harry chuckled, "Saved you a slice, pineapple ya favorite ," he said, his voice warm with affection. "Thought you might be hungry."
Y/n's eyes lit up with gratitude as she grabbed a slice, her fingers trembling slightly as she took a bite. The taste exploded on her tongue, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body as she savored every delicious bite.
"Thanks, Harry," she said between bites, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized how crazy she must look.
Soon she didn’t care as her taste buds were sent into a frenzy of delight. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before.
Fuck I could die happy right now 
Y/n couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure as pineapple juice filled her mouth and the second the sound escaped her lips, her eyes widened in horror, realizing she had made that sound out loud. She glanced around the room, and spotted Lucas, Harry's friend, standing in the kitchen, his gaze fixed on her.
Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with panic as she struggled to come up with an excuse.
Harry's warm laughter filled the air. "Enjoying the pizza, are we?" he teased, his voice filled with affection as he shot her a playful wink.
Lucas's voice cut through the air like a knife. "You look fucking stoned, Y/n," he exclaimed, a smirk playing on his lips.
By now y/n’s entire face was bright red with embarrassment as she averted her gaze, her heart racing with panic. Feeling the weight of Harry's curious gaze boring into her.
She rubbed her now sweaty hands on her jeans, once again struggling to find the right words to defend herself. "I-I'm fine," she insisted, her voice trembling slightly.
Just take a seat Y/n. 
Listening to her thoughts y/n made her way to take a seat, and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as now all eyes were actually on her.
Matt's eyes widened as she sat down . Her body carrying the heavy skunk like scent everywhere she went. "Dear God, Y/n, you smell like weed," he blurted out, his voice filled with disbelief.
Y/n's heart sank as she looked up, meeting Harry's curious gaze once again. She felt herself sinking deeper into the couch as if her body was not her own and someone else was controlling it.
"Love, you do smell like weed," Harry stated softly, as he placed a hand on her thigh. To be completely honest Harry knew Y/n was high from the moment she walked in. He could tell just by the way her eyes looked back at him. Of course he’d never accuse her of it.
Say something everyone is staring at you
 She was screaming at herself to open her mouth and speak but she simply couldn’t.
Sensing something was wrong with his usually calm girlfriend Harry made an announcement, "It's getting late, I'm a little tired”, his voice breaking the tension in the room.
Oh thank god.
Y/n felt a twinge of relief as Harry and his friends began cleaning up. Not bothering to help Y/n found herself lost in a trance, staring at the video game on the screen. The vibrant colors and lifelike characters captivated her, momentarily distracting her from the chaos swirling inside her mind.
So pretty 
Y/n's thoughts of the video game were interrupted by the sound of Harry closing the door behind his departing friends. 
Just tell him for fucks sake
With a rush of adrenaline, Y/n blurted out the truth she had been trying to conceal.
"I-I'm high," she confessed, her voice wavering as she looked up at Harry, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Harry's lips curved into a knowing smirk as he met her gaze. "I'm very aware, love," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Look at you, growing up."
Y/n's heart fluttered at his teasing tone, but her panic quickly resurfaced as she struggled to explain the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.
"I-I don't know what's happening," she admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I feel like... like I'm not in control."
“One minute I’m happy and the next I’m sucked into a deep black hole”
Harry's expression softened with understanding as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, Y/n," he murmured, his voice soothing to her frazzled nerves. "You're just having a bad trip. I've been there before."
Y/n buried her face in Harry's chest, trying to steady her racing heart. The smell of his cologne filled her nose and she felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that Harry was there to support her through the storm.
Harry lounged back on the couch, placing Y/n’s head in his lap. With a playful gleam in his eyes, he started telling stories of his most embarrassing high moments. Y/n leaning in, eager to hear, soon they were both laughing uncontrollably.
While drawing circles on her back Harry shared one ridiculous story after another, including the one where he thought he saw a UFO, and Y/n couldn't help but snort. Each story made her laugh harder, tears of amusement rolling down her cheeks.
"I can't believe you did that!" Y/n gasped between giggles, wiping away tears as she looked at Harry with admiration. The panic that had gripped her earlier seemed like a distant memory and a sense of peace wash over her. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the shared laughter and connection between them.
Masterlist
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therobotmonster · 2 months
Text
Chosen for What?
A short tale about chosen ones.
"There it is."
Johann's voice was barely a whisper but in the unnatural silence of the forest it might as well have been a shout. The knight took a step forward, oblivious to the crunch of his footsteps on the dry leaves or the sharp, almost metallic smell of the coming snow.
His focus was entirely upon the spear. It's shaft was made of white wood, polished so smooth he had mistaken it for marble, and the bronze spearhead was shaped like a elegantly stylized shark.
It was presently stuck within the ribcage of an obscenely oversized humanlike skeleton, which was itself entangled in the gnarled roots of a tree the size of a watchtower. The giant's bones were twice the size of a man's. More remarkably, they were made of pitted, rust-flecked iron.
Johann reached forward.
"HOLD!"
Johann froze. Even though the salvation of his people was mere inches away from his outstreched hand, he dared not ignore the voice behind him. He felt the wizard's hand grip him by the shoulder.
"You know it is not meant for you." Aldara said. She squeezed hard enough for Johann to feel it through his mail shirt. He remembered her saying that wizards aged only on the outside. He had no reason to doubt her on that point.
"And who is it for?" Johann hissed under his breath. "That scum?"
The scum in question was already walking toward the spear. Galen VonZent, the cutpurse and murderer. Galen VonZent, the spoiled, cruel son of a merchant house who killed his own father and nearly bought his way to freedom. Galen VonZent, who Alex 'sacrificed himself to save.'
"Galan, take the spear. You're ready." Aldara said, her voice heavy with the import of the moment. When Galan moved to obey, she slowly pulled Johann back away from the spear, step-by-step.
The tall, golden-haired man grabbed the spear with both hands, and began slowly pulling it free of the iron skeleton. To Johann's shock and disgust, the shark-shaped spearhead bent this way and that in a swaying motion, aiding in its release.
"The gods must be insane, or cruel beyond reasoning. If that beast is their chosen one."
"You aren't incorrect." The old woman chuckled. "But why say that now? Why not when we found him?"
"I had faith the gods had chosen well, that he'd grow into the role. But since we saved him from the gallows he has done nothing but confirm that he was right to be there. He has been cruel, selfish, cowardly, and petty at every turn." Johann's voice was a barely subdued growl. "And even if you do not believe me, he murdered Alex."
"I told you to give him a chance." Aldara said. Johann braced to be lectured about some hidden goodness or potential for redemption. "I'm glad you took my advice."
"What? You agree with me?" Johann gritted his teeth. "You should have let me at least try to pull the spear free. If he can do it, I certainly can!"
"Why is a prophecy like a worm on a line?"
"Again with your riddles! I don't know!" Johann barely managed to suppress a shout. "Is that why I am unworthy? A riddle?"
Aldara sighed. She smiled in that way that made Johann think of his grandmother, and his anger faltered. She spoke, clear and gentle. "Do you think the Gods would leave something this important up to chance?"
"Obviously not, that's why the prophecy-"
She squeezed again.
"Tell me, how do you ensure that a chosen hero isn't killed before they can save the world?"
Johann glanced back at Galan. The brute had managed to free the spear halfway, and was taking a self-congratulatory break. "Whisk him away as a child to be raised in safety? Assign a wizard to watch over him? Place other heroes along the path to help him?"
"So many moving parts." The wizard laughed. "The gods can try and play us like puppets, but free will is a wildcat in a burlap sack-"
"-you can take it wherever you want until the sack tears." Johann continued the adage. "And you'll get cut along the way regardless."
"The task gets no easier by adding more cats."
"Then how?" Johann asked, somewhere between sullen and frustrated.
"If you need to make sure only someone who is worthy can take the spear, you make the spear ensure that anyone who takes it-"
The wizard paused, a wide satisfied smile on her face. It was not the smile she had worn when they were joyously feasting with the elf-folk five days into the quest. It was the smile she had worn when she made Vorn the Destroyer's blood turn to water in his veins.
Johann's gaze was thusly occupied when the sound of Galan's sharp, anguished scream ripped through the air.
"-is worthy."
Johann turned slowly. As a knight he had heard enough death rattles and screams to know that he didn't want to witness the cause Galan's banshee-like shriek.
When he finally did turn fully, his gaze did not meet a horrifying eldritch mutilation as he expected. Instead, there stood Galan, holding the spear reverently with both hands.
Though nothing outward had changed, every aspect that Johann had found lacking was now plainly there in the lines of his face and posture of his body: compassion, thoughtfulness, maturity, competence, sincerity... even hope. Everything was there behind those eyes.
Everything except Galan VonZent.
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 10 months
Text
I And Love And You
Thank you anon for the request! I changed it a little bit to be about when reader was pregnant with Savannah because I already have Alex's birth story posted!
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, fear of giving birth, and just a whole lot of fluff
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You were pregnant with Alex during the football season a couple of years ago, and Travis was upset that he had to miss almost all of your doctor's appointments and major pregnancy milestones. You spent a lot of time alone up until you gave birth, and while you always reassured him that you were fine, it didn't help him feel any better about not being with you when you needed him the most.
When you found out that you were having your second child, Travis never left your side as early as six weeks. His hands were constantly on your stomach, a reassuring touch you always appreciated, and he was always talking to the baby as you laid in bed together. He was obsessed with your growing belly, and the thought of being a father again. The two of you never really talked about it much, but you were so glad that you were pregnant during the off season this time around, because you weren't so sure you could do this alone again.
Three Months Pregnant
"Good Morning", Travis mumbled into your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head as he watched you stir milk into your tea. His hand traveled down to your belly, his calloused fingers rubbing up and down against the fabric of your t-shirt. You giggled as he tickled your skin, leaning back in his hold. "Baby, I'm barely even 12 weeks, I'm not even close to showing yet."
"I know, I'm just excited. I missed a lot of your doctor's appointments when you were pregnant with Bub", he shrugged, grabbing a protein shake out of the fridge, "I don't want to miss anything."
You gave him a gentle smile, "You won't, I promise, but the baby right now is so tiny, you're probably feeling the burrito I ate last night more than anything."
Six Months Pregnant
"Travis, your hands are freezing, babe." You peeked one eye open, shivering as Travis put his hands on your bare skin as soon as he saw you on the couch. "Sorry, babe." Travis rubbed his hands together to warm them up, using his breath to speed up the process. He had just walked back inside after playing in the snow with Alex, his hands numb. You didn't even notice you had fallen asleep on the couch until you heard Bub running into the house.
You were exhausted, falling asleep as soon as you sat or laid down anywhere. The first couple of months of pregnancy had been difficult with Alex as well, and you were fully expecting to be feeling better now that you were in the second trimester, but something was definitely different. Your doctors assured you that the baby was fine, but you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something might be wrong.
"How are you feeling?" Travis pressed a kiss on the top of your stomach, resting his forehead against your sweater. "Shh, I don't want Savannah's first words to be "are you okay?", you chuckled, scratching Travis' head gently with your nails. "I know. I know." You winced at a sharp pain in your lower back, Travis grabbing your hand to steady you. "Hey, are you okay?" His eyebrows scrunched together in worry. "Yes, your daughter insists on using my back to practice her karate kicks."
"Hey, be nice to your mama, baby girl", Travis whispered. "You're still cookin' in there, we need her."
Seven Months Pregnant
As soon as you got the news that Savannah's lungs were underdeveloped and she might come earlier than expected, you were on edge, constantly worried, and forced to bed rest to make sure both of you stayed as healthy as possible. You started experiencing early labor at 30 weeks, and Travis went on leave to care for you full time.
The night that Savannah was born, you had been in labor for a couple hours, your contractions still too far apart to head to the hospital. You had been through this before, and determined not to panic, so you went through your nighttime routine like it was any other day.
Travis walked into the bedroom after putting Alex down to sleep for the night, walking over to you when he saw you struggling to open the cap of your lotion bottle. "Let me help you." You didn't even object, handing it to him and pulling your shirt up to expose your stomach. Travis was as careful as possible as he massaged the cream into your skin. "You look so beautiful baby", he gave you a gentle smile, steadying your hands when he he saw them shaking.
"I don't even know why I'm so nervous, this is our second baby." You wiped the tears that were beginning to build at your lash line. "I'm so glad you're here, I don't know if I could do this without you." Travis covered you with the blanket, laying down next to you and pulling you into his side. "You don't give yourself enough credit, babe. You're so incredibly strong, I'm in awe of you every day. I'm right here with you, and before we know it, we'll be bringing our baby girl home."
One Week Postpartum
You stood in Savannah's nursery, the room dark and cold. As much as it broke your heart, you had to head home after spending a week in the NICU with your brand new baby. Alex needed to get back into a routine, but you felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that a part of your heart wasn't here in your arms like you had planned. Travis leaned against the threshold of the door, watching you fold some clean baby clothes. "Don't even think about it." You held up a finger to stop him from asking you the only question you knew you wouldn't be able to answer honestly.
He held up his hands in surrender, walking over to you and pulling you into his chest. "I already know. I'm not okay either." You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into his hold. Travis' hand instinctively found your belly, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry, habit." He chuckled, lifting your chin to place a kiss on your lips. You stopped him as he tried to pull his hand away, patting it as he rubbed against your t-shirt again. "I know I'm not pregnant, but I've grown to love it."
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485 notes · View notes
queen-of-reptiles · 6 months
Text
𝙿𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂
description: Lauren runs through the same park everyday, at the same time everyday, but when she is an hour later one day, she finds her routine changing, so she can get one more look at the beauty hidden amongst pages of notes.
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lauren hemp x female reader
disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously
warnings: so much fluff omg, so much fluff, fluffffff
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y/n just posted
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liked by, y/f/n1, y/f/n2, and 388 others
y/n man fuck whoever told me to study law 🤓
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y/f/n1: girl ik, I've just eaten a tub of ice cream, cried and banged out an essay on civil justice in the 80's. 😝
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y/n: lmao loved the add on of cried 😌
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y/f/n1: felt like it was needed ☺️
y/f/n2: I don't get how you make everything look so aesthetic??? 😩😩
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y/n: because I am deffo failing this course so might as well make it look good ! 💙
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y/f/n3: Didn't you get an A in our last test? 🤨
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y/f/n4: I am a drama kid, and even I know she's fucking dramatic 😭
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y/f/n3: Such a drama queen this one!
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y/n: I hate both of you stfu 🙄
y/bff/n: That's my best friend, she real bad bitch, she don't got no money, cause at law she's shit... 😏
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y/n: how long did that take you? 🤨
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y/bff/n: too long honestly...
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y/n: 😭😭
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Lauren was running an hour later than usual, they had quite an exhausting game yesterday, so on her day off, she usually slept in until half eight ad was running in the park by nine.
Today it was ten am, and as Lauren jogged through, music pushing her through, she paused in shock. The most beautiful girl she had ever seen was lying on a picnic blanket, basking in the warm summer sun.
Rings littered her thin fingers, as well as several necklaces which hung from her neck and over the notebook she was writing in. Jeans and a sweet flowery top covered her, the mom jeans hanging on her body.
She had wired headphones in, which Lauren found odd, but the girl didn't seem to notice her as she stared, too focused on writing whatever she was writing.
Lauren briefly though about going over, but then she realised she was messy haired, red faced, and sweaty and thought better of it. So instead, she jogged on.
But suddenly Lauren found herself changing her routine, and every day off she had, which changed, she went to the park at 10am, and every time, other than Thursdays and Tuesdays, the girl was there, buried in pages.
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After Lauren's complete fail, the next day off they had, Chloe, Alex and Jill came with her to the park, the four in relaxed outfits and hoping to sit and relax together, as well as help Lauren with this painful crush.
As they got there, the mysterious girl was already there, writing out pages and pages once again, and Jill let out a light whistle, nodding at Lauren in agreement.
The girl was hot. Chloe and Alex both sat down near her, dragging the other two with them, y/n looked up and she waved nicely at Lauren, who waved back with a smile.
Chloe sighed in relief that Lauren had at least reacted normal to that, and as y/n went back to studying the four friends started a conversation as they relaxed in the sun.
Eventually the group got up to play some football, y/n having not moved since the turned up, Chloe had hit the ball slightly hard and Lauren blanched as she ran.
The quick blonde, only manged just to get to y/n, pulling the girl who had stood up to stretch out of the way of the incoming ball the football instead hitting one of her notebooks and sending loose pages everywhere.
"Oh my god." y/n gasps.
"Sorry!" Chloe calls. "I am so sorry!" She adds again, but y/n waves a hand kindly.
"Luckily I have my guardian angel!" y/n calls, smiling at Lauren gratefully, who blushes at the sweet nickname. "Thank you." y/n adds as she bends down to pick at her papers.
Lauren kicks the ball across to Chloe who restarts their game of up, with the other two, but Lauren stays by y/n leaning down to help pick up her scattered papers.
"Oh you don't have to." y/n starts but Lauren smiles and shakes her head.
"I want to." Lauren promises as she hands the girl her papers. "Do you maybe want to get coffee sometime?" Lauren suddenly asks, as if she had been forced to say it.
Truth is, if she hadn't of said it then, she never would have. y/n looked up at her and furrowed her brows slightly, as if trying to figure something out.
"Like a date?" She asks and Lauren nods.
"Unless you don't want to." Lauren adds.
"No I want to, I was just trying to figure out why Lauren Hemp is asking me out." y/n admits and Lauren winces.
"You know who I am?" She asks and y/n shrugs.
"My best friend is a city fan, though I am more partial to Arsenal I must admit." y/n teases and Lauren pretends as she's been shot dragging and heart-breakingly beautiful laugh from the student.
"How could you?" Lauren asks jokingly and y/n laughs again.
"Quite easily, I suppose I will have to make it up to you." y/n hums. "How about a date tomorrow, after coffee today?" She asks and Lauren grins.
"Uh, yeah, yeah that would be great." Lauren smiles, a bright gleam in her eyes.
"Cool, well can I get your number then?" y/n asks and Lauren jerks forward, quickly tapping her number in and sending a message to herself.
"Do you want to go get coffee now?" Lauren asks, y/n sighing in relief and nodding.
"Please, I look at anything else about civil justice proceedings, my brain is going to self-destruct." y/n says and Lauren chuckles and looks up to tell her friends.
However, she finds no one, the three having dispersed with shared grins as Lauren and y/n started talking, finding no reason to interrupt they left.
y/n packed away her notes, throwing her highlighters into her pencil case and standing up, she smoothed out her summer dress, the article stopping just below her knees.
"You're so pretty." Lauren said without thinking, and even though she had just said it aloud, it sounded so calm and meant.
"Charmer." y/n blushed, smiling softly as she held out her hand. "Come on." She smiles and Lauren takes her hand.
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twitter/ X
username1: has anyone seen Lauren's story???? 🤨🤨
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username2: YES - is she out on a date?
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username3: it looks like it !!!! 😏😏
username4: Lauren and a girl have been seen out in Manchester!!!
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username5: She is in my class at school!!! 😱😱
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username6: her @ is @y/n - She is so pretty! 😊
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username7: nahhh she's not 🙄🙄
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username8: yeah what if she is just using Lauren??? 😡
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username9: stfu it aint our bsuiness! 🖕
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lauren_hemp just posted
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liked by, chloekelly, leahwilliamsonn, and 487, 288 others
tagged y/n
lauren_hemp So proud of you baby <3 you deserve this after all the sleepless night and pages of notes! Also happy one year love - best WAG I could have asked for!
view 13, 711 comments
username1: has it been a year already??? WOah !!
username2: feels like just yesterday we were hunting her down ...
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username3: who would have guessed how much we would love her too! ☺️☺️
leahwilliamsonn: Well done y/n!!
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y/n: Thankooooo xxx
y/bff/n: SOOoooooooOO PROUD! 💙
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y/n: love youuuuuu 💙
y/f/n1: It seems like only yesterday you were crying with dominoes saying you were going to drop out. 🥹
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y/n: what a time, what a time. 😊
username4: This is all just so cute! 🥹
chloekelly: This happened because of me just so everyone knows 👏👏
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lauren_hemp: yes lets all thank Chloe for nearly knocking out my girlfriend 🙄
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y/n: thanks Chloe! Thought she would never come and talk to me. <3
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lauren_hemp: I would have! 😶
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chloekelly: nahhhhhh ☺️
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username5: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 😂
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END
loved this one as it is just cuteness honestly !!
-
Queenie xx
334 notes · View notes
dietmountaindewbae · 5 months
Note
hiii i LOVE ur fics omg pls never stop writing,
could you maybe do something You-ish (the TV show "You") (idk if you've seen it but it's amazing) something stalker-ish? where alex is joe and reader is his, soon to be, gf (cuz he makes her) (any alex era) 💌
hope ur well🤍💋
xxiii. obsession
alex turner x reader
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word count: 12626
summary: We ran into each other by chance or by fate, your clumsiness started something for me, something for us, and it's my duty to find out who you are. (the car! era) This story is written on Alex's narrative.
warnings: obsessions & rough s*x
song recommendation: tear you apart by she wants revenge
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Ever since that day outside of a party, when you fell into my arms, drunk and loud, I had never felt so high, I had felt something the moment you smiled at me and flushed from the embarrassment, your eyes watery from the cold, your lips red full of blood, alcohol running fast through your veins, my heart falling from my mouth, you pulled away and hugged yourself, too embarrassed from what had happened, you thought it was too much booze, I thought it was meant to be, right place and right time. You just said "Sorry," I helped you to get back on your feet, our hands lightly graze and we lock in a stare, but then your mates dragged you across the street, they had dragged you away from me, like parents and their out-of-control kid, you waved goodbye at me, and all I could do was smile and wave goodbye to you, I was a fool, I didn't know what to say, it was one of those 'what would have happened?' moments when I ask myself, 'what if I had just said "It's ok, don't worry, love"' Icould vividly picture us walking down the street, going for some food because we were pissed, I would've kissed you, and asked for your number, then we could be dating, holding hands in the street, laughing at everything, hanging out with your stupid mates, if they hadn't been there and taken you away from me, I probably wouldn't have found meself, hiding behind the threes in the middle of a cold winter in LA, hoping to be in the warmth of your arms than out in the cold darkness of the street. I can't help to wonder if you ever think of me.
Your name and your last name stayed in a constant loop on my mind, one of your mates, the one with the light brown hair had screamed it as she found you falling into my arms, it would be stupid if I didn't look for you, right? You're gorgeous, you were nice and interesting, It would be weird if I didn't try to find your social media. It was easy to find you, I hate to admit how easy it is to find everything online these days, I found your Instagram and Facebook with just a few clicks on my computer, it's too easy it makes me laugh.
I scrolled through every single one of your posts on Facebook, you had a few, not many, everything was mainly about your little family trips and your sister's child, I made a note that you might just have Facebook out of pressure from your mother and sister since they always tag you in memes or those annoying TED Talk videos and you never answer, I found your mother's page, widowed, 49 years old, looks 45, she gave you her face, older sister, found her page too, married with a toddler, awfully bitter since she has to post where she is at all times, even if her child had taken a massive shit and had the looks of a giant worm, she would've posted it, I left the best for last. Your Instagram, no one these days uses Facebook.
Your Instagram was private but empty with not a single sight of you... so it's no use, what about your friends?... Hello you... I could hold on to these group pictures Larissa posted, thank you internet! Your friend group was small but they knew how to get around, only 4 people, two girls called Julie and Larissa, and Julie's boyfriend Luca, 5 if you counted me in, soon, luckily for me, Julie had an empty page, barely any pictures, just her and Luca but her profile was public but that lead me to find your other friend, Larissa had pictures of her face and some of you and Julie at pubs, very self-centered I suppose, Luca only posted about being a gym addict. I took a more personal approach, your sister Nina, who loves you very much, she had plenty of pictures of you. Thanksgiving was at your house, you looked gorgeous in those pictures, you wore a white dress with red flowers and black platforms, your long hair in beautiful waves, if any pervert were to see it, you would be such an easy victim with that long hair, but you're not, you're not so easy to hunt down in the dark. There was a picture of you and your sister's baby boy, sitting next to the three by a bay window, great. I took note of the stores, houses, and historical buildings nearby and then reality hit me as I took a cab on the way to your house.
Come on Alex, what are you doing? You look like a creep with your cap and coat in the middle of the night, It's only just a crush it'll go away, just like all the others. But you see? That's the problem with you, you're not, this is dangerous but I'll take my chances for you, I'm not obsessed with you, like I said, it's only just a crush. I hide behind some trees in front of your house on the other side of the street, and I contemplate this wonderful girl in her bedroom, going round and round with a book in her hands. 
At night me head couldn't stop spinning, making all of these scenarios, about a girl who meets a stranger, and they fall madly in love in just a split second. I didn't need more, I could hold on to your light vanilla perfume and the softness of your hair, your lips, your collarbone, your shoulder, the curve of your breasts in the blouse you wore that night, I want to hold you close and kiss you hard.
For next few days I followed you around, I made you a time table, every morning at 5:30 you went for a run, and you finished off at home some with exercises you found on YouTube, you were visibly struggling, and that made me laugh but I felt bad for doing so, you worked hard, you finished around 6:30, you liked walking like a true new yorker, in your most sober looks, sometimes in a dress with a blue navy sweater on top of dresses , jeans, and a silky shirt, winter or no winter, you loved wearing tank tops, loved exposing even just a little bit of your body, even in the coldest days, your legs, your beautiful shoulders, a v-neck, mini skirts, checkered shorts or pants, and sexy patterned tights with colors like pastel blue, and even red to spice up your all black outfits, and you always wore that luscious and berry coloured lipstick on your lips, heels, motorcycle boots, ballerina flats, dresses, chunky sweaters, straight leg vintage jeans, coats, heels, shoulder bags, mini bags, but what a must was, something that never came off of you, your golden necklace, you're an everything girl, you dressed for the day, it told you exactly what to wear, even if you broke your pattern, you mostly dressed like Jane Birkin, jeans, white shirt, chunky purse, but you love leather, leather belts, leather jackets. Then you walk to your favorite café, and your drink depends on how tired you feel, black coffee for busy days or cappuccinos for the days you don't feel in a rush, then you take the metro, read a book and sip on your coffee while listening to your music, you are in college by 7:30, have 30 minutes to spare, but you're wise, and you use them organize yourself while you ease up with some music, I've never seen a longer playlist to be honest, there's a bit of everything there, you write your things in a red wine journal, I wonder what's in those little pink notes you stick on your notebook.
I made sure you got safely to your workplace after school at 4:00 pm, a bakery, you love talking to the people at the register as they ask you for your favorite dessert, and you always choose the same, tiramisu, rich coffee with some liquor, mascarpone carefully enveloped with delicious whipping cream, and a touch of cocoa sifted all over the tiramisu, and you juggle back and forward with doing school work, help in the kitchen, serve the costumers with a bright and friendly smile, you're tired and they don't pay you enough. And when you get home a 10 pm, you don't go to sleep, you stay up until you're finished but you never truly are, no matter how late or early, you can't sleep, why is that beautiful? Aren't your sheets made of the softest cotton? But I can see, that you are compromised to live in a city that never sleeps, you get ready for your next job at your nearest live jazz pub as a bartender, I'm very familiar with that type of job, you serve the customers with a kind smile as the music rocks you, you talk to other girls, and the artists flirt with you from time to time but you didn't submit, you knew better than that, you got paid well, the tips that fell on your back pocket from the nasty old men helped you to afford your apartment, barely making it to the next cut but you made it.
And every restless night when your mind couldn't stop thinking you went out to the nearest pub, and you made new friends, some men flirted with you until sadly, one night I had to watch you leave with one of them, he conquered your body before me, I wonder if you ever think of me in that way, a sexy stranger, that clouded your mind with ideas until you finally gave in. He did what he wanted to do, and when he left, you were still flushed and needy, that night I watched you hump your pillow with angst to get yourself off, a gorgeous picture to see, one that was engraved in my brain since then.
Every night when I crashed in my bed, and I prayed for this to go away but it continued to grow, I prayed for you to get out of me head, but your face, your smile, every curve of your body lived in me head, and if I don't something about it, you'll hunt me down forever. 
I walked down the street on a Saturday night, It's been a week since we bumped into each other, discreetly searching for you with my eyes, until, I found you, in your West Village, street-level, white, vintage but modern apartment that might be hard for you to afford but you keep on paying it because the creepy landlord has a massive crush on you, he cannot fool me, I know what it's like.
You live in such a melancholic part of New York and also warm, old, and historic, it holds so many stories, and memories that's why it reminds you of home, like the baby pictures your mom posts, your living area illuminated with yellow lights from you mid-century lamps, like the sky in a beautiful afternoon, laying in your sette in a white tank top and panties, finally, you get to relax and enjoy yourself.
I could see the outline of your body through your thin linen white curtains, you were wearing vintage headphones connected to your record player, reading a book, Bukowski's 'Love Is A Dog From Hell' Yes, it must certainly is. Then suddenly you stood up, I'm certain you're barefoot, through a crack in the curtain I can see you're approaching the window, I could see the left side of your face, soft, round, cute little pointy nose, and your eyes, a sparkle in them as you stare into the sky, pink pouty lips, and a little beauty spot in your cheek, your phone in the ear, moving your lips with a smile as if you were talking to the person in the other line in real life. You nodded a couple of times and then you hung up, I saw the outline of your body, running towards your bedroom, what's got you in such a hurry? But before you forget, you turn up the music so loud the whole neighborhood can hear it, you choose something classic 'Bang Bang' by Nancy Sinatra, shoot me down, your linen curtain reflecting the light, and you take out your top in one move tossing it away, the outline of your naked beautiful body stretching had made me think so many things to do with it in less than a second, you pick your clothes with care, hanging them in front of your mirror, posing with the clothes on top of your body.
You sit somewhere in your room, and I can hardly see you, something about your magnetism draws me to you, so I stupidly cross the street and find shelter behind a three, but I get even more stupid as I get to see you doing your makeup in the mirror, your phone rings and your face goes blank, you answer and I see how your expressions change like the way flowers rot, gradually you get darker and darker, until... you break into tears putting an end to the call, and you push your phone away, you look into the mirror, and I see a tear roll down your cheek slowly, your face scrunched, and your cheeks reddened, you look at yourself in the mirror, all I can see is hate and rage, and then, you're cold as ice, not another tear rolls down your cheeks, you clean them up with a soft cotton pad and continue to apply makeup on your face, I wonder who has made you cry? even if it was just one small insignificant tear, whoever that was...they still made you cry.
Before you leave, you check yourself one last time, the dress you choose to wear was way better than the typical night outfits women wear these days, less ostentatious, you like dressing feminine, classic but modern, but not so pretty that you look like a little girl, you were more than pretty, you were hot, steaming, boiling, no man would approach you like that, and that was the sad truth for you but good news for both of us, not as any man would approach you, they had to have big balls to do so, baby doll dress, platforms, and a racer jacket, cute, stylish, edge, as always, you were sharp as a blade to the skin. Your hair is straight and it looks longer than when it's on your natural waves, and the wind blows perfectly on it, but that velvet red lipstick on your mouth might be the death of me.
You went outside, took a cab, and went out, I waved my arm, and soon enough a cab passed by.
"Where to?" The man said.
"Follow that cab in front of you," He took off, it was sad, drivers these days don't even care for men like this, the ones that just order to do something like that, there were a lot of crazy people here, and I had to protect you from them.
I see you being dropped off at a crowded pub, I hand a good amount of money to the man, and he drives off, I see you go inside, and you find your mates, I sit across from you, not too close so that you can see me but, but not so far so I don't hear you. You hug each one of them and you sit in the booth next to Julie.
"What's the occasion?" You said, next thing, Julie turns and shows a sparkling diamond on her finger, "Luke, Luke, Luke!" You teased her in awe, you held her hand carefully, examining it up close to the ring, "It's stunning" You said with a kind smile, it was amazing how I wished to be that hand, the one you caressed with care.
"I wanna do something big for the bachelorette, and I don't know where to start, I mean..." It must be hard for you, everyone around you is married or has a serious more than the 2-year relationship you can't hold on to, everyone has a kid now, everyone turns 27 and suddenly they already have a house, a child, and a loving husband, I wouldn't be like that ever, things won't be like that with me, I promise, we can take it as slow and calm as you want, or maybe go fast, I can go both ways, I just have to wait for the moment I may finally introduce myself to you, maybe by tomorrow when you go out but it must be soon before you forget about that last Saturday night, and it looks like you are in the process of, you are emptying those glasses of wine like coke in a hot summer day.
"Ease up with the wine," Larissa says, "You're gonna end up embarrassing yourself like the last time, you always have to pull a seen," Here we go.
"What fuckin' scene?" You spit back, "I was tired and I had been wearing high heels for more than 2 hours, yes, I was drunk but it was a genuine accident" You were annoyed, why could no one understand that? Accidents happen, and it must be hard for you to stand that pain, if I had stayed over, I would've given you a lovely massage, and treated you the way you're supposed to, I'm starting to be not very fond of Larissa.
"Uhu, yeah, but do you remember the last time you went to that party and got so drunk you "accidentally" confused a cigarette with marihuana and cried in the street like a baby?" Larissa, you just had to make it worse, didn't you?
"Fuck off, I can do whatever the fuck I want, if you don't want to believe me that's fine, oh!... and a scene, Larissa, a scene is what you pull when you yell at everyone as if you were the fucking owner of everything and everyone" You took your purse and rushed out, I see that Julie went out to get you, so I discreetly follow her, and find you waving your arm for a cab.
"Wait, don't go," Julie says with a caring tone, "I know you're not ok, you can't lie to me, you know how Lari is..."
"But why does she have to be a fuckin' news flasher of everything I do, embarrassing me in front of everyone, making me look like I'm not fun to be around," Julie tried to hug you but you wouldn't let her near.
"You say some scary shit while you're drunk, that's the only thing I'm going to agree on, but I can see you're not ok," Intuitive, honest, and kind, good choice for a friend.
"He called me" Julie sighs, who is he? This is the prize of being old fashioned, just like me, that's another thing I like about you, you have a life, even if you spend time alone, you go out in the world instead of taking a picture of it and expose your life, you have a little life, but it's yours and only yours.
"What did he want?" You shrugged and searched for something in your leather purse, taking a cigarette, and desperately flicking the lighter on.
"He just asked how I was, while he's off... modeling and possibly fucking two to three girls every single night, and he asks me how I am, drunk and high, he's so... he's-" To find the right words to describe that wanker only made me think about the damage he must have done to you, come on, spill the name, "That's not really everything, he's just-"
"Part of everything" Julie answered back, hugging you close to her, a caring hug, sweet, I could take a picture of it, I'm glad there is Julie for you, "Go home, and text me when you get there," She holds her arm up, taking a cab for you and sending you back home, I did the same thing as before, and the man did as he was told. But the problem was, you didn't go home, you went to a nearby liquor store and bought more wine for yourself, you drank it straight from the bag and you plugged in your wired earphones to your phone, kicking your feet and humming to the music 'New Dawn Fades' by Joy Division, a sad post-punk classic, you should be glad I am here to be on the look for you as you waddle in the steers, an easy target, if anyone dared to do anything to you, well, you must be glad there is me.
You walked a few blocks to your house, but you didn't go in, you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, so you sat by the staircase, defeated since you were desperately looking for your keys in your little purse, and you stared into the empty dark street, and you cried, you kept crying so hard it makes me feel the need to go and help you, I didn't really think about what I was doing, you were desperate, and I was afraid of letting you stay outside like that, then you stood up, unpredictable as always, I see you taking a fast pace. What are you thinking about? Did you forget something? You walk a few blocks until you stay still on a crowded street, the cars on that street go by faster, and you stare into the void as the red lights flash before you in straight lines, your cheeks stained with black tears, the darkness takes you in like one of their children, your head wrapped up in horrible ideas, so dark they blind your eyes, so atrocious your mind can only find one way to make you see the light at the end, you can't find peace, your body is tired, your eyebags are heavy, and you don't feel like yourself, you've lost control and you murmur something over and over again under your breath like some sort of sick prayer...
"A loaded gun won't set you free"
I see you take a step forward, now standing on the pavement, my heart drops to my stomach, and I run to get you, the wind blowing my cap away, what are you doing? why are you doing this? I can fix it, I can fix you, I can help you, I'll make it all disappear, before you take another step, the bus coming your way was out to get you, and you closed your eyes, but I won't let you go like that, my hand grasps your shoulder tightly, and I pull you to my arms, you're cold, shivering, your wired earphones fall from your head and get tangled in your hair.
"Are you alright?" Your face is wet with tears, and you look at me with big eyes, flushed again from the embarrassment, but that sparkle, that little fucking sparkle just makes me so mad, I'd kill for you to see me like that over and over, your little nose red, your eyelids a bit puffy.
You quickly wipe your tears, "Erm..." You sniffed, and you stared into my face with a cute and educated smile, "No... I mean, yes... sorry, I'm just... I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry," You scan my face, the familiarity of it makes a grin spread on your lips, "If I sound like a creep please stop me, but, I think I know you" Your lips curl into a bigger smile, as you realize who I am, I am that man, I am the man who will always be there for you, "You're that guy I fell into the other day" I pretend as if am amazed over who small the world is.
"Hey you," You said to me with a smile.
"Hello you" We both look to our feet, and I feel some warmth creeping up me cheeks, "We gotta stop meetin' like this" I see you flush, looking at me through your lashes, you slowly bite your bottom lip as you brush your hair out of the way, flirty. You struggle to untangle your earphones from your hair, I take a step forward and gently untangle them.
"You just had to come and rescue me again huh? Who are you? Superman?" I hear your voice, and your laughter like a melody I would love to hear over and over again, gentle, a little deep, but beautiful, I can see that behind all of that dark makeup and those dark looks, you're a sweet but lost little girl.
"I'm Batman" You're laughing and blushing at my jokes, that means that you like me.
"I like your accent batman" That's nice to hear, some people say that it sounds too rough and I sound like a scumbag, but I'm glad your ears enjoy the sound of it.
"Thanks, love" You take a step forward, your eyes looking at mine and then at my lips, it's hard to breathe right now.
"What are you doin' so late, huh? Are you wearing your costume?" You tease me, and we begin to walk together, to nowhere, just where we want this conversation to take us.
"Sort of, and you?" You shrugged, what a hard night you had. I'm worried about you, you didn't need to apologize for "not thinking", we kept walking until the smell of food dilated our nose trails.
"Just went for some drinks with a couple of friends nothing too exciting... do you mind if we stop for some food?" My fantasies had become real, you wanted to get some street pizza, the nice old man smiling at you tenderly, he's nice, not creepy, just a nice man, you ask for two slices of pepperoni with Italian sausage and the man is nice enough to give you the most fresh and warm slices of pizza, "Here, it's on me... it's the least I can do"
"Thank you" You chuckled and waved it off, gosh I wish I could just freeze this moment forever.
"I should be thanking you..." You wait to hear my name, and I stay silent contemplating this moment for a second, this is how it starts.
"Alex" You shake hands with me as your tongue, teeth, and lips articulate your name, you have a lovely name, and I'm crazy about you, "Charmed" I hold my gaze at you as you slowly let go of me hand.
"So, what were your plans for the night before I had completely crashed them" Funny, dark jokes, sarcasm, you're really smart but you don't like showing it off, you make me laugh so much, it's clear we have the same humor, that's another reason as to why you're perfect for me and I am for you.
"Um... I thought about going out somewhere, anywhere, sometimes I can't sleep... I'm afraid of losing life by being a slave of me work, me house, everythin' but I found something exciting" You smile to yourself, and you smile at me, you see? We're perfect.
"I do that sometimes... whenever I can't sleep, I go to a bar and you know... try to meet new people, I hate having to post about it on social media though, everyone has their screens glued to their faces, and I just don't like that, I don't wanna breathe my phone, I wanna breathe air" If I were you I would write a whole book about this, I love that you think just like that, we can be people for once, and run around the world and make it ours, "What do you do for a living?"
"Music producer" You smiled at me, "And I have the gift of guessing people's favorite artists,"
"Really? What are mine's?" I have the chance to look at you confidently, I see you like that, I can see how fast your heart is going, how you try to calm it with your breathing, your chest rising and falling fast, as I stare into your eyes intensely making little goosebumps crawl like spiders, I hope you know how much I like you.
"Nancy, Lana... and summat dark like Joy Division Unknown Pleasures" You clap and you're amazed at how exact I am, I can smell it on you.
"Exactly, I love them," You began to hum their songs, dancing on the street, I follow your lead, as you spin, "I was listening to it a few moments ago" You turn dark again, I'm not going to let you, I immediately regret ever saying that, I don't know what that bloody song did to you, but you were listening to it before you attempted to get crashed.
"I'm glad I was there" Sweeten up, tell me what's wrong, I'm here for you.
"Yeah... me too, I wasn't thinking straight..." You clean your throat, you cross your arms, and furrow you're eyebrows, it makes you angry to say it, makes you sad, makes you frustrated, and even so since you watch me patiently waiting for you to tell me what happened to you, I didn't have to say it, you already knew "I don't think you would like to hear about my problems Alex, they're meaningless"
"Nothin' is meaningless just like us meeting tonight perhaps..." Shite, I take it back, I can see your face looking at me weirdly, but you smiled, you're fascinated? Did you like that?
"You're right," You warm up to me, I can see it in your body, I can see it in your face, I've given you no reason to not trust me, I'm harmless, I told you you can trust me, "But I want a ciggy, if you don't mind" You lean against a brick wall, your leg supporting your weight, I'm in love with your smooth and shiny legs, what's your secret?
"Mind if I steal one?" You say no with your head, you check your box again, and you curse in your head. The box has only one cigarette left.
"Sharing it is" You light your cigarette with your pink lighter, I can see some cute puppy stickers on it, you inhale the thick white smoke and exhale it, your whole body relaxing, feeling lighter, you feel calm, and you hand it to me, holding it between your index and your middle, you have a vintage silver rose ring in your middle, cracked red nail polish, and the cigarette butt was stained with your gorgeous red lipstick, I take it in between my lips, your lipstick tastes sweet like marshmallows, I savor it, Jesus, I hope I can taste your pretty lips soon.
"Talk to me," You sigh, and your mouth articulates each phrase, your voice tired and sad, I hear every detail of your story with care, a girl that can't control her alcohol, one that just wants to have fun, one that makes stupid mistakes but learns, I see beauty not only out but inside you, in your mistakes, in your intentions, in your life, you only got one, and you've made noble mistakes, I can see you're a whole woman, a hot and determined woman, but you have no road clear enough, no road to pick, you're chasing something you don't even know what it is.
"So now, I'm just trying to see what happens, I'm getting my degree soon, and then I'll keep working, maybe I'll start something on my own" Maybe if you don't love your work, at least you can come home back to me, I'll cook dinner, I'll wash your clothes, I'll set the table, I'll prep you a warm bath, I'll shower you, you won't move a single finger when you come home to me, "How's working as a music producer?"
"Oh, well, it's great... sometimes we have our differences but most of the time I just do what people tell me to do, in secret I make their music better, sometimes they don't notice and they just brag about how amazing was their idea" Your cigarette burns away into my fingers, I set it off into the wall and discreetly put it inside my pocket, you change the direction, we're going back, you're shamelessly eying me up and down, I swear if you don't stop...
"What are your favorite bands?" You're changing the subject, I don't like that, I don't like that you don't want to talk about what you've told me, but I keep you interested.
"Well... an old-time favorite is The Strokes" I answer firmly, you take out from your purse your earphones, plug them into your phone, and press play on the music as we walk together sharing your music, 'Call It Fate Call It Karma' on full volume.
"Might be basic for you, but I don't see a better song for this moment" You turn to face me, and we stop in the dark corner of the sidewalk, your eyes greedy and precious, that bloody spark in your dark eyes excites me, it's all in your eyes, I can see it clearly, I can see what you want from me, you blink slowly and wait for me to make the next move, and I don't doubt for a second, I close the space between us, and very gently press the palm of my hand to your warm cheek, it's warm and pink, staring into your eyes like stars in the black sky, kissing your lips, sweet as burned marshmallows in a bonfire night, you kiss me so softly at first, but you make that animal inside me come alive, I'm a man, I'm an animal, and I kiss your tender lips hungrily, I didn't expect for you to answer back with the same hunger, you feed me with your kiss, and your breath tastes like ecstasy, I'm a junkie, sweet sweet nicotine, I'm a chain smoker, "Take me home, Alex..."
"I'll take you anywhere you tell me, sweetheart" You grab my hand, fingers intertwined, and I feel 15 again, my palms are sweaty, my sweat is cold, and I feel so warm in my clothes, I can't wait to take them off, the anticipation getting the best of me, you make my dreams come true, and I'm so happy the world had chosen you to fall into my arms. I'm your protector, a guardian angel.
On the way home, we sneak to share some angsty kisses three or more times, you're getting me worked up, letting me touch you, grasping your hips, biting my lip, kissing my cheek, moaning my name into my lips, you're making my head spin. We walk up the stairs together, opening the door to your shelter, you have a lovely house, so clean that some things are allowed to be misplaced, it's big because you don't like having so many things out, your bed is on the other side of the wall were you living area is, the vague familiarity of it makes me feel like I'm imagining it all.
"This my girl cave, my crib" You joke, I take pictures of it in my head from bottom to top, every single inch, every place I imagine us being in, watching tele, cooking together, making a mess of the kitchen of course, dancing, fucking, scratching your wooden countertop, "What do you think?"
"It's-" We both get freaked out by the knocks at your door, some dickhead calling out your name, begging you to open the door, you roll your eyes, you know exactly who he is.
You swing open the door, cross your arms, and stand your ground, marking that he's not welcome here, you're strong, you're determined, go you! Show some teeth, "I don't wanna hear another one of your crazy fucking stories, tell them to your mother, Cameron" You were about to shut the door in his face but he stops it with his foot, that must've hurt Cameron, that's your ex isn't he? The one who made you cry, "Leave" You spit.
"I won't, you can't possibly ask for something like that... you and I know there's no one better than me, no better match than us" You stay silent, why are you thinking? why are you second-guessing? He takes a step forward, he's getting closer, you're face is a frown, you don't want him to touch you even though he keeps trying.
"I don't want you here, you must leave now Cameron, I want you out" He turns into hysteric laughter, he thinks you're crazy, he thinks you've lost your mind, well big shot, you're not it, Cameron only wants to hurt you with his words, he wants to make the most damage, he gets off at this, making you his only real standard, but Cameron will never treat you like you must be treated.
"Don't talk me to like that" I take his aggressiveness as a sign to take a step in, who the fuck does this wanker think he is to talk to you like that? You see that's a real scumbag, and I'll be his worst nightmare.
"Like what?" I come up from the back, cocky, sounding like a total prick, and I can see that you love it, when I sound like this, dominant, confident, "She's telling you to go, I'm telling you to fuck off. Now" I slam my voice at him, there are scary people in this world, there are men like Cameron, he has an intense gaze, but he wouldn't ever pick up a fight for anyone, yes... not even you, he's too vain, a narcissist, he is all bark but no bite, and then there are the men who would move mountains for their loved ones, he steps away, and I shut the door close, I can feel you shivering beneath my skin.
You stare at me, and I drag you in closer, that's what you like... you liked to be treated rough, you like being needed, I push your hips against mine, I can see it in your face, you've felt it, you've felt how hard my cock is, and it's hurting so fucking bad now, I can't wait for another second, I can't wait to take you to bed, you jump on me, wrapping your gorgeous soft legs on me, I decide to leave the first reminder of me on your kitchen table, laying your body on top of the cold wooden countertop for the first reminder of me and the things I'm about to do to you, my knuckles pull down your panties, ripping them off from your skin, your pussy glistening, bathed in your wetness, I can smell your flesh from the distance, like a predator and their victim, I'm a lion, "I'm gonna fuckin' tear you apart"
"Fuuuckin' please" You moan so loudly I bet it could be heard from across the street, and your voice shivers, I've barely even touched you yet, and you're already so wet for me, what are you thinking about? what's in your mind? I wish I could crack your skull open.
I lower myself in between your legs, I've been so busy admiring your body, the scent of the almond oil you rub on your smooth legs, I bet that you shaved them today, and I wonder what else have you shaved, your dress rides to your hips as you contortion under my touch, Jesus, you're desperate for it, but no, I want to enjoy you.
"Calm the fuck down, lay still and close your eyes" I order, and you stiffen up, staying quiet, and still, "Atta girl", I can finally see what's in between your gorgeous long legs, a pink and small pussy, Jesus, I bet you're so fucking tight by the looks of it, my ring and middle finger begin their assault, pressing down vertically against your clit, you hum and your hips writhe against me fingers, slowly, pushing them, you like that, rubbing yourself against them, and when I see you through the glass I lose my mind, I see how me fingers get coated and damped in your wetness, and I love watching you get so worked up by that, I can feel me cock just getting harder by the second, it's hurting and it's a pulsing pain, but I bare with it just for you, because now I'm going to show you how exactly you're supposed to get fucked.
I spread open your pussy, pink and warm, swollen clit I pinch in between me fingers, and you hiss but you only get wetter, if I pinched for a little longer you were sure coming all over the table. I open me mouth to taste your warm and savory juices, I suck and kiss your clit, picking up with my tongue your wetness, you're going to cum so good, I can feel it building up, you're in for a ride, and you've just begun to climb up the roller coaster.
"Oh... that's soo good" You gasp and sigh, I let my two fingers twist inside your pussy, me knuckles rimming your walls slowly, the bumpy and hard skin of my fingers make you gently fuck yourself into them, while I watch you with my tongue lapping over your clit teasingly, just those gentle touches make your legs shake, and your walls to contract, you're wonderful, you behave well, your hands slowly crawling into me hair, pulling it gently, your little whimpers get me worked up and I have to put in the biggest effort to not palm meself, I want you to feel every inch of me.
"You feel so lovely, babe doll" This feels so right, you bite on my lower lip, pulling my flesh until it bleeds. You're a sucker for my accent, you really are, you enjoy hearing me voice, doesn't it relax you? Doesn't it turn you on? I want to know what it is... I want to feel what it is, your legs keep shaking and your body keeps getting stiffer, your lower abdomen making pressure, and your walls are closing around me fingers, I shake them inside you, your mouth falls open, my lips sucking your clit harder and your body arches until I feel your cunt losing up, feeling your release leaking out of that tiny little hole, I'm eager to taste it, I eat your pussy eagerly, you know I'm hungry for it, my mouth eating your pussy like a soft and warm bun, and you taste just as sweet, just as good as I imagined, I won't let you rest, I will keep you on the limit. I drag you forward, making you kiss me lips, "Do you taste that? Taste how sweet you are... taste how good I ate you"
"And you're gonna fuck me just as good?" Your hand sneaks in between me legs, you love how hard my dick is for you, it makes you feel so thrilled, makes you feel good about yourself, and it makes you feel hot.
"You'll just have to wait a little bit longer, I'm not done with you" I'm certain about something, you're a kinky little shit, and I know you want something like this, I bend you over the kitchen table, and you're just ready for it, arching your back, spreading your legs, you're not putting a fight, my hand kneads your ass like dough, and spanks it hard over and over again, "You precious little thing, are you going to do everything I tell you to do?"
"No" You state firmly, earning another smack in your ass.
"Tell me summat..." I push my hips against your dripping wet cunt, that's oozing for another smack, "How much do you want it?" You sigh, rubbing your ass against my cock, you're killing me, you better stop now, the friction, the warmth, your goddamn smell, "Answer me you fuckin' cunt" You giggle, you do love it.
"I want you so bad" You whisper, no, I don't like that.
"Not enough" The smacks you earn are getting harder to bear, but you enjoy them, and so do I, you masochistic little shit.
"I need you inside me, Alex... I can't wait any longer" You rock your hips against mine, humping your naked pussy against my bulge, "Please..." You whimper so sweetly, I can't handle it any longer, I take off your dress, and you're wearing nothing but your tall black heels, looking like a fuckin' hooker, but I bet that's what you like.
"You want it you fucking slut?" You keep whimpering and rubbing yourself on me jeans, I bet that you've stained them already, "Come here" I turn you around and kiss you deeply, I can feel your hands unbuttoning my shirt as fast as you can, even in the heat of the moment you don't break my shirt but I couldn't care less, I take your hands and make fists ripping it apart and throwing it away, you're even faster to take out my jeans and leaving me on my boxers, that's the one good thing about me, I can see how your eyes lit up as you see how hard me fat cock is for you, you bite your lower lip and I pull you back up from your knees.
Time for reminder number two, the settee, I pull you up, and you sit in my arm until I put you back to the ground gently, I have to let you know that I was here, I need you to know how good I am, no other man could please you like that, I pull your leg up while you hold yourself up with the other, your pussy is so fucking wet my cock slides inside you so easily, I can feel the electric shocks that run all over your body, "Hard, please" You whine, I'm going to show you what hard actually is.
My hips thrust inside you so roughly the settee moves out of place, your nails dig into the cushions as I keep railing your tight hole harder, and you scream like bloody murder, I hope your neighbors don't call the police, I hope they can see how hard you're getting your cunt fucked, I want everyone that walks by to hear you, "You wanted hard babe!" You moan and scream, and keep getting your pussy pounded like meat being beaten up to get it tender. I dig your head into the pillows.
"Don't... d-don't-" Don't what?
"I can't understand you, babe, can you repeat that for me?" You pant trying to catch your breath, and your legs are numbing up, and I can see they've lost some strength, "Do you want me to stop, because I can" As I saw you didn't make a move, I began to pull out but you stopped, digging your nails into my wrist.
"Don't stop for fucks sake" Now for the next one, I stay buried inside you like that, you keep trying to fuck yourself into me cock but I just won't allow it, I pick you up once more, and your legs around my torso, and you press your warm chest against mine, I lean back against the giant bookshelf next to your bedroom door, you hold on into the shelves for leverage while I drive my cock inside you, your pussy feels so tight I wish I could let this last forever, I'll make that pussy mine.
"You want more, babe?" You hum and gasp, yes of course you do, you're loving every single inch of me cock, "God you look so beautiful with your mouth opened like that," I lick your bottom lip, "And that little cunt of yours is so wet for me, you're just making things harder for me..." I pushed meself too hard inside you, the shelf shook, and something hard dropped to the ground but you ignored it, you've lost yourself in my touch, and I feel embarrassed for dropping something. Your inner animal wakes up as I throw you into your bed.
I crawl on top of you but you gather up your strength to flip me over, I didn't expect that, you've taken the lead and I want to see you lose control, you writhe your hips into mine, your eyes facing the roof, and your mouth wide open, your hair falling into your head, you looked possessed, but you had lost the power to think about what you were doing, "For fucks sake" If you keep moving like that, you're going to make this end sooner, and I've already planned everything out, I try to sit up but you hold me down, chocking me so hard that it's almost impossible to breathe for me, but I love that feeling, my head feels light, my vision is blurry, but I'm not going to give in to you, I already have, you have got to give into me.
I flip you over so harshly, your head almost slammed against your headboard, "Listen to me you fuckin' cunt" My harsh tone makes your core shake, "You ain't the one on command, now... I don't wanna repeat meself" It's arousing you, I can feel it in between your legs, you're shamelessly getting wetter, "Don't make me repeat meself again" You love to play with me, I see that naughty little smile curling into your lips.
"You already did" You like to pull on my hair, don't you? And you will pay for that.
"Don't fuck with me" Your eyebrows push together and your little smirk makes me go mad.
"You know I love to" Love? You "love to"? Does this mean that you might love me? Even just a tiny bit?
"You do, huh?" I begin to rock my hips against yours, slowly, passionately, like a slow and steaming dance, I see your fingers grasping the sheets making hard fists, "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into" And I'm not lying, you really don't.
"Show me Alex" You whisper to me those three words so sexily, charmingly, I've already lost my mind.
"I'll show you how a real man fucks you, babe," Your oozing with the thrill, "I'll show you how to behave... you little fuckin' cunt" Your mouth opens to moan and I take advantage of it to spit inside your mouth, both my hands chocking you, "You're mine... all mine"
"I'd love to" You whimper, "Make me yours please... please just do, I want you Alex" You keep asking me that with your little weak voice, your body that speaks to me, I can read it so easily, it tells me that I'm doing exactly what you want me to do, it shivers, and it quivers, and it sweats, it screams, it tightens, it stiffens, in your eyes I can feel your fast heartbeat in my fingers, and it goes just as fast as mine, my body against yours sounds like I'm butchering you, your neighbors must think I'm holding a knife against your throat, but it does go as deep, it does penetrate and it hurts you in the most magnificently and pleasingly way, your eyes red shot, and your voice gets quieter, shit, I'm losing you, I am.
"Wake up, wake up!" I scream to you, my hand patting your cheek lightly, your pulse is barely detectable, I slap you across your face and you gain back consciousness in the blink of an eye, I didn't want to do it, I would never do that, but when your lips curl into your devilish smile, I know see how you really are.
"Do that again Al" You tease me, I love it when you call me like that, no one ever really does that anymore, is that my new nickname? Al? You're going to remember me forever babe, I hope you do, and tomorrow when you wake up, I'm still going to be there, I'll make your breakfast, and I'll do anything you ask me to do, even dishes, you won't pick them up.
"You're mad, woman" You giggle, and you try to pick yourself up, I can't let you, I did knock you over completely, my hand very gently caresses your cheeks, it's red and fragile, it must burn or at least sting, "Let me do the kissing for now, babe"
"And the fucking too perhaps?" You smile at me, your cute little button nose is flushed, your cheeks and chest are red, your nipples are hard, it turned you on to this point, you're dark, what else are you not telling me? "I'm crazy about you" Those words will echo in my head for the rest of my days.
I take no rush into fucking you, I'm not just a guy you'll sleep with, I'm your man, and I wanted to make sweet sweet love to you, but you won't let me, you like it rough, hard, fast, I don't want this moment to be over, at least not for me yet, you can cum as many times as you like, and like the real man I am, I am profoundly true to the saying 'Happy wife, happy life'
I hug you close to me, that's the least I can do, if I'm going to lose control, let my heart tell yours how much I love you, even if you dump me like a puppy, I'll stay loyal, I'll follow your scent everywhere, I will forever remember the scent of your vanilla hair, your Dior perfume, and the golden necklace around your neck, I counted 15 moles on your body, even the one in between your legs, my hands grab your hair into fists as I pound you harder and harder, you're losing your mind and I'm losing control again, your bed squeaks so loudly and the headboards slams against the wall so harshly, but I don't stop I can't stop now, I can feel you, I can feel it coming, you bring yourself to an end again, the palm of my hand slowly adds pressure on your lower belly, to ease you up, the bed keeps squeaking so annoyingly, and even after we ignored the several warnings, the legs of your bed broke and your headboard fell to the ground, we both break into laughter.
"Oh God!" Your little laughter is so bubbly and funny, it makes me smile and feel so ashamed at the same time.
"I'm so sorry, I'll pay for that" You rub the tip of your little nose against mine, and look at me tenderly, your fingers caressing the back of my head, if only you could see the hearts in my eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous... you know, I've never broken a bed before... you're not going to be easy to forget batman, I hope you don't disappear into the night soon" I'll get you off first, but there's one thing you should be certain of.
"I never intended to" Was that too much? Sorry if that was too much, maybe it was... maybe it wasn't, I'm having a hard time reading your face right now, you're looking at me very seriously, I don't want to get my hopes up, but you're killing me, I should focus now, finish the deed, "But I'm still sorry about your bed though"
"Shut the fuck up, and keep fucking me" Whatever she wants, whatever she wants... You're already the song on the radio I got stuck in me head.
I pull us closer to the safest edge of your bed, toss your legs over me shoulders, and bend them over, I lean over and pound the living shit out of you, I was balls deep inside you, and you like it, so much that you dig your nails into my back, scratching my skin until red and bloody, I don't care how much it hurts, leave as many marks as you want, the deeper the better, my hair falls over my forehead and you make the kindest gesture, your brush it back with your long nails, even if by now I'm sweating like a pig you keep bringing me closer to you, I can feel the light tingles of you breathing in me face, of you biting down on my golden chain making laugh, making me go insane, I keep pushing harder, and you throw your head back, almost letting go of me, but I won't let you, I'll send you to heaven if you want, but don't leave without me.
"Oh, Alex... I'm so close, please..." Your eyeballs turn into beautiful glossy pearls, and you crumble down into pieces as you coat my cock in your warm release, I can feel your walls pushing it out and running down your cozy hole, I stay buried inside you, watching your mouth fall open and choke out your last orgasms, they spin in my head like a tiny little music box, "You're next, Alex... you can't end things like that... you know how much I want it, you already did so much for me" Wait, what are you doing?
Your hands run up my chest, and you massage my shoulders, "You really want me to breed you, you greedy little fuck?" Your hands go down and you massage my balls, Jesus, you really do, I bet you're not even aware of what you're doing to me... or are you?
"Yes Alex, use it... use me" You know exactly what you're doing, I drag my cock out just rimming your walls once again, I better start warming you up, but you don't want that now, you're thinking about me, about what I want, you deserve a little star on your forehead for being so caring, a man and its needs, it's nothing compared to your needs, and I bet you needed someone to get you off correctly.
"You're mine... I want you to say it" I promised to you since the beginning, I won't stop until you're mine, "Are you mine?" I look at you with my big eyes full of hope for you to say it, please tell me now.
"I'm yours Alex" My lips taste your mouth, your tongue dancing with mine. You're made of the sweetest poison
God, I remember that time I was watching through your window, that night you were laying down on your settee, your hand was vigorously and shamelessly rubbing your clit in circles, fucking your little cunt with two fingers, rocking yourself into your touch with the desperate need to rub yourself against something hard, just like you were rubbing yourself against me hard cock. You keep squeezing my balls, your hands sneak into my ass squeezing it gently to keep me going, you love having me right at the edge of ending it all, I can't keep it up for another moment anymore, you're big stary eyes, your little sparkles, your touches, the smell, the noises, you're begging for me cum, I slam my fist next to your head, dragging your body up as I push myself deep inside you and coat your walls in me creamy cum, you're pure bliss as I feel us both coming together, a gorgeous after bliss surrounding us, you have this certain smell, a certain heat, and you're just so beautiful with your cheeks flushed like that.
"Let me clean you up, it's me mess, just lay down" You nod your head, laying gently on your broken bed to not let it crash completely into the ground, you point your finger telling me where the toilet is, and I rush there to grab a few paper towels and clean your skin softly, soothingly, I can feel you relaxing, I can smell my body in yours, the smell of my cologne, your almond oil, and your pheromones. And when I'm done you grab my hand and I can see you thanking me for even that tiny gesture, that's nothing you should be thanking me for, that's the least.
"Now the question is... where are we going to sleep?" We? You want me to sleep here, with you? You're not quicking me out, or at least not yet, this is my chance and I would be lying if I didn't say I was the luckiest man alive.
"Maybe the settee would be a nice place" Your gorgeous olive green settee, corduroy, soft, and marked, I can see you smiling at the space in between your two cushions, I see your giant ivory bookshelf, another mark. I lean forward to pick up what I had dropped when we assaulted the shelf, but it wasn't one of the thousands of vinyl records you've got organized by letter, it's a case... a guitar case. I didn't know that about you. Tonight made me realize that you're a hat full of surprises, the deeper I search the more I find.
"Want some food?... I've got some nuggets and fries... and-" You close your fridge and turn to look at me, "Oh, you know how to play?" I nod my head, trying to stay as noble and humble, you smack your hand into your forehead, "Of course, you do," You sigh and I can hear you whispering to yourself, "Stupid question"
"And do you?" You hum as a yes, interesting, I bet you do, but why do you hide your guitar like that? As if it was buried in this beautiful world with music, colors, words, and meanings.
"I did..." You turn on your air frier and toss some nuggets and fries in there, I'm so happy that you're not like one of those crazy keto girls, you pour us some fresh orange juice as you keep talking to me, "But you know, my mom always told me 'that's just a hobby', and when I moved here I hoped to find some people that wanted to share this fire to try to make some music... but I never managed to, and then I just gave up"
"That's a bit sad, love... you shouldn't have" You lean over the kitchen countertop, amazing reminder, I see you smiling over the edge of your shoulder, but you turn to look at me as you pick up some of our clothes, and then you run into my shirt and you decided to wear it as your sex shirt, you look beautiful, "I mean, being a music producer and making it was hard, but it was even harder to follow something I'm not passionate about" That's what's wrong, you didn't follow your passion, that's what you're missing, "Have you got any songs?" Your face lights up but it quickly slips away, and the redness crawls into your face, What? I'm trying to help you, I want you to be happy with me and with your life.
"I can't accept that" You quickly answered, your head said no but I know you want this, it's served on a silver platter, why can't you let your reserved self accept this?
"Accept what? I haven't said anything, I just asked if you could sing for me... I know you have a lovely voice" You laugh sarcastically at me, leaning over to fetch your guitar, and searching for a notebook on your vinyl shelf.
You sit next to me, legs crossed, guitar on your lap, naked with just my shirt on, your knees holding your notebook as you search for the perfect page for me, you make sure that your guitar is tuned before you start and your thumb softly strums down the notes, making a lovely rhythm, and only two chords, C and Em, your voice sounds like a million angels, and I feel like a lost man after serving the purgatory, your voice is so hauntingly beautiful, your lyrics are very forward, and I'm happy to know through your lyrics how truly you feel about things, you don't search for big words you choose the right ones, you're bold, and you're wise, you try to put an end to your complicated feelings, your questions, everything, all in one song with a few strums and two simple chords.
"That's all," You say putting your guitar next to you, I'm blown away, "I know I suck"
"No!" I answer immediately, "You don't... I think it's beautiful"
"You're just saying that because..." No, I'm not just saying that because I want to fuck you, no not at all, don't you ever believe that.
"I'm saying that because I think you've got it, and you don't want to quit everything to live your dream, I know it must be difficult... but I'm being truthful, you've got summat and we can work on it" Why do you keep saying no with your head? Stop that, if I could rip it off right now... no, don't think that, "Come on, I'm not takin' a piss" You break into laughter with me, throwing your head back, you jump up the moment your oven dings and you run to flip the nuggets and the fries, putting 10 more minutes into the oven.
"Takin' a piss" You laugh to yourself, "Well, if you're not takin' a piss" You imitate my accent and it sounds so silly when you try to do it, "I'm not accepting your help Alex, you have your own thing, and if I'm going to do this, I have to do it on my own," Perfect, I'll take that.
"Why don't you go to Panda's next Saturday? They're looking for some people to play some music, any style, any theme, you can do whatever you want... I'm sure everyone will love you, and you know, there's always someone on the hunt for summat fresh!" I see you thinking about it, I'm not saying I'll help you, I'm just offering the start of something great for you, this is it for you. And yes, I am going to get you the best deal you could ever imagine, but first I have to run things through your notebook, I secretly hide your baby pink notebook, your initials written with a black sharpie, and I stash it in between the cushions.
"I'll think about it" I'll think about it. I hope you do go, I can't wait to see you singing for everyone, you will charm them, "Dinner is served me lord" You're also a dork, just like me, imagine all of the jokes we can make together, they'll be endless.
"My! Thank you, very kind" Dinousor nuggets with a side of fries, the melancholic feeling of your childhood must be present every single day, you squeeze some Ketchup into my plate, squirting into my chest.
"Whoops! Let me clean that for you" You lean in, sticking out your tongue to lick off the ketchup from my chest, "Eat up!" I'm in love with you, "And then we'll get on with that" You look down, and I do the same, shite, look what you do to me, you make me get so hard like a little boy hitting puberty.
"Bugger" I whisper under my breath, you heard it since you giggled, "You know, I think the food can wait right?" You push your plate away and you immediately crawl on top of me, kissing my lips so tenderly, caressing my chin with your fingers, and enjoying the texture of the little hairs that are growing on me cheeks.
"Mmm ketchup" You laugh into the kiss, and our teeth collide accidentally, and us by casualty, "You taste yummy"
"Imagine yourself" You blush hard, something tells me no one has ever made you feel that good about yourself, and that's because no one will see you with the same eyes as me, you're my girl, you will be, I try to flip you but instead you stop me, have I done something wrong?
"We're not going to break this couch, I love this fucking couch, you understand that?" You firmly said, your eyes threatening to kill me if I do as such, "I'm on top" I squeeze your ass tightly biting my bottom lip.
"Whatever she wants... but if I broke the bed it's 90% your fault," You scoffed and laughed as I peeled my shirt from your body gently, making sure I don't break more buttons so you could keep it, "Because you feel so good, and maybe you could be on top, but I know sooner or later... you'll be the one giving into me" Quite intense, wasn't I? Fuck!
"But for now, it's me who calls the shots, so if we break this... it will be 98% your fault, how do you like me now, smarty?" You secure your arms around my shoulder, I pull you in, chest on chest, as I give myself a few more strokes before you slowly slide down my cock, moaning so gently, I like feeling every part of you, I can see how your body twists and shivers when I hit that sweet spot.
"How do you like that?" I rub it in your face, how good I'm making you feel, "I guess one round just wasn't quite enough for you," You start humping on my cock slowly, you're just teasing me again, but I enjoy feeling your body move against mine, your little cries and moans, everything piles up in me, I know this time I'll enjoy you, picture you going in slow motion, I can feel your rapid heartbeat, I can feel the heat wave that raises and wrap us in, I can feel your body begging to mine to stay as close as possible, because that's what your body and my body want, we smile, we laugh, and I fall deeper in a hole full of love for you, and I'm no donkey to use the dirt to get out, I rather stay buried deep inside you just like now. Your body is tired, it's been two hours since your legs worked for the last time, and you beg for more into my ear.
"You're so good, I-I don't understand" What don't you understand, babe? Your fingers intertwine in the back of my head, as you writhe your hips to mine, our bodies dancing together so wonderfully, your hips move in circles against mine.
"Neither of those assholes could ever come close to me, I'm a real man..."
"And you've got the size" You flirt with me so shamelessly, your walls keep dragging me in, your head falls into my shoulder, you're giving into me, fading into me, and it's me time now, I finally get to give you what I wanted since the beginning, make sweet and honest love to you, my hands on your thighs I keep driving your body against mine, I gently bounce you on me lap just to get you to stay up again, you're eyes are shutting, your mouth is falling open again.
"Look at me" I order, and you do what I tell you to do, you look at me towards your end, I hope you can read it in my eyes, I hope you can feel how warm the flesh is, how my eyes, my brain, and heart have no space for anyone else but you, how mad you've made me, I'm obsessed, and I'm not going to lie to myself about it anymore, I don't want to just use you, I hope you can see that, but if you can't, I hope this is enough for you to understand it, my eyes big and dilated for you, my body feels so stiff, it's overwhelming, "You're so beautiful, love"
"If you keep calling me that, you're gonna make me fall in love, Alex"
So I'll say it every single day for the rest of my life, you feel so good on me, your body fits into mine so perfectly, and I'm so close, and so are you, the flesh is tender, the flowers bloom, the sun rises and it's heat rains all over the world, and you and I bond together for one last time before your body crashes into mine, I make a mess, but that's a bit on purpose, "Ah, yes" You sigh into my ear as you let it rest on top of mine. I have the chance to clean your body once more, to clean you up with care and love, my touch is so gentle your body fills with goosebumps, "You really don't have to Alex" You put your hand on my hand, and I freeze, should I stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?
"Sorry... if I'm doing too much" Your eyebrows push together and before I can get away you drag me back by my wrist and smile at me. What do you think of me?
"No, I'm just..." You sigh, you're troubled by your thoughts, "Not used to the 'aftercare' part that's all, you know, sex for us girls... it's not like we see it in films, or read in books, maybe I don't have that magic to turn a beast into a prince, and... I just I dunno, I don't feel weird... you make me feel special, normally, they just leave" Are you... maybe falling for me?
I smile at you, my thumb grazes your cheek softly, "I'm a man, and I'm messy but I just don't like doing that there's an attraction, and if we have sex, unless you ask me to leave I'll leave" I put away the paper towels in the trash, and when I come back I find you waiting for me with my shirt on your body.
"Well, if that's the case" My heart pumps one thousand miles per hour, I feel I'm entering a trance, about to puke my intestines out if you ask me to leave, "You don't mind staying?"
Fuck yeah! "Not at all" I try to keep me cool but I just can't, my heart betraying as I lay down with you.
After we finally had the chance to close our eyes, the sun peeks through the curtains of your windows, the sky painted orange and ocean blue, you smile at me, and you get back up from our little love nest that was the settee, you're quick to find the vinyl with the song we were listening together, the song we kissed to, the perfect song to watch the sunrise.
"Come with me!" I've never heard you so excited before, you run to the kitchen and fetch my boxers from the ground, and I'm a bit troubled by the thought of me wearing my jeans with no underwear but I do nevertheless because I would kill to see you like that every single day.
I cover my body with my coat, and you grab my hand, we run out of your house, and we go through this tiny little white gate, into a garden covered in green chasmophyte, that's the place where the flowers bloom in little boxes of dirt, the perfect place to see the sun, the perfect place to hide, to dream in, it's wonderful, you pull out a chair for me in this old rusty table, you find place to put your music and we listen to Call It Fate Call It Karma as the sun rises from the horizon, I pull you to my lap, wrapping your legs around my arms and hum the song to your ear, the birds are chirping, and the sun warms us from the once oh so cold night.
"You're a lovely singer," You say to my ear, I was never one to watch sunrises, I haven't done that since I was 17, and now with my busy life, I finally get to taste this little piece of paradise that you've given me.
"Not as good as you, bunny" You kiss my nose with a big smile, and I take out from my jeans a box of cigarettes and my old zippo, you set on my smoke, and you love to play with my zippo as your hands run through my naked skin, you love playing with fire, don't you? I just hope someday, you don't get burned in the fire of my love.
A/N
Anon, I want to kiss you. You don't know for how long I've been trying to figure out how to write this chapter, I had to watch You again but it was totally worth it, so thank you!
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