#I warned you that after this documentary I was going to be hating | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidmania · 3 months ago

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use somebody 2 | spencer reid

part one here

summary; spencer dreaded the day he would see you with anything other than a frown on your face, when that day comes, spencer would do anything to bring your sweet smile back.

warnings; some mean police man being sexist and mean to fem reader, protective spencer, fluff, a little angst but like barley any, will there be a love confession??? read and find out!

an; idk im dying. thank u. mgg hand mention

Spencer wasn’t the biggest fan of the jet before you joined the bau. He didn’t have any particular issue with it, there was nothing he could really fault or use as an explanation as to why he wasn’t a big fan of it but it was just boring, he would read and then reread books, then try and sleep.

Then you joined the team and suddenly the jet was one of his favourite places, because you would sit next to him. You would ramble about a new show you were watching or a flower you had seen on the side of the road, and lately you would tell him about your dog. He would get to listen to you talk and get to watch you smile and flap your arms around as you got increasingly more excited as your ramble went on.

On the way home if you were feeling too tired to excitedly ramble about something random you would just sit next to him and let him ramble, the same excited smile on your face nonetheless as you paid the at most attention to whatever it was he was talking about, listening intently and asking questions almost as if you just wanted to keep him talking.

He didn’t mind.

Your plans to watch the documentary he recommended at your house were quickly ruined by the notice that you had a case that would take over the span of your weekend.You had apologised profusely to Spencer as if he didn’t technically cancel on you just as much as you did him. He didn’t mind, he got to spend time with you either way.

In a sort of twisted way, he preferred working a case with you. At least this way you were around him rather than spending your weekends around anyone else. He wondered if that was creepy and controlling and if he said it aloud it would probably end in him over explaining how he just hated the idea of anything happening to you, or you meeting someone else.

You were too kind, for anyone. Especially him.

Thats why he was immensely annoyed when the Police Sheriff of the station they were at in Louisiana, decided to nit-pick every little thing you did. He wondered if the Sheriff was just insanely insecure or if maybe it was a gender issue.

He settled on the latter when the comments ended up going towards Emily, and JJ as well. Just a little bit more towards you, maybe because regardless you continue smiling at him or muttering out soft apologies for whatever minor thing you had done that the policeman had an issue with.

There were many times Spencer wanted to speak up, or shove the old mans faced into a wall — but then you’d smile sweetly at Spencer and he remembered you were a grown woman, you were perfectly capable of taking care and defending yourself. Regardless of this information, Spencer stayed a little closer to you throughout the day.

“Alright, giggle guts, whatcha got for me?” Penelope said over the phone after she had heard your mumble out a cheery hello once it went through. Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, mostly because he saw your smile widen and a string of laughter leaving your lips, the sound melodic in his ears.

The sound of your laughter only made a small laugh puff out Spencer’s lips because it was so sweet and so beautiful that it was contagious and he couldn’t help it.

“Well, you gorgeous amazing girl. I need you to look up this guy’s medical history, please” the manner was added so sweetly and softly on the end. The compliments left your lips effortlessly, the sound of your voice and the evident smile in it made Spencer’s heart happy.

Penelope said something over the phone but it was inaudible over the sound of Sheriff standing in the corner of the room scoffing. Your eyes flickered upwards towards the sound, eyebrows pinching together in slightly confusion. Everyone’s expression mirroring your own.

Spencer felt dread fill his stomach and over every goosebump on his skin, dread to fear whatever spiteful unnecessary criticism the man would have to offer. The criticism absolutely no one asked for.

“Whats the issue?” Hotch spoke up, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down the sheriff. Was it in a protective manner? Nobody was sure really, the elder’s expression remaining unreadable.

The sheriff kicked off the wall to stand a little stranger, looking at hotch than back to you. “Unprofessional. This is why this is a man’s job. Sensitive squishy women who think life is all sunshine and rainbow are not fit for a job like this.”

Everyone went silent, your lips parted before closing, unsure of how to reply to something so unnecessarily mean. Spencer’s expression hardened. The room fell into an awkward tension, nobody moving or saying anything.

You pushed out a laugh, “Damn okay.. Tell me what you really think” You muttered under your breath, a joke.

Spencer would’ve laughed at your comment, your way to bring light to a room that had been made so dark but he could see the hurt in your eyes and he felt his heart strings pull against his chest, he wanted to reach out and grab your hand, reassure you that you were perfect for this job.

He was pissed. Actually. There wasn’t a lot that could make Spencer mad — this however was one of the few things that did. He shuffled uncomfortably, finding it difficult to hold his tongue. He could tell Emily and JJ was uncomfortable by the comment made.

Hotch opened his mouth to talk but Spencer had beat him to it. “You’re probably, what 65?” He said, his tone of voice curt and blunt it made your heart turn in Spencer’s direction.

The police officer furrowed his eyebrows, yet nodded anyways. Spencer hummed in response, sitting up a little bit straighter as he leant forward to rest his forearms against the conference table the team had been gathered around.

“Right, so by assumption and well — biology. You are actually probably the least reliable person in this room right now, despite age or gender. Your pace is significantly slower than anyone on your team, and i don’t think I even need to compare you to our team because I don’t wish to further embarrass you or hurt your fragile masculinity much more.” Spencer started.

Your head had fully turned towards his now, eyebrows quipped and eyes widened in shock because you weren’t expecting Spencer of all people to come to your defence. Not because you didn’t think he cared but because the boy could hardly defend himself, you just hadn’t expected him to defend you.

“And actually — we use psychology, which women are actually significantly more successful in because of their ability of understanding, gender plays little to no role in our field of work. Its also ironic since I know you heard Derek on the phone to Garcia, you had no issue with what he had said — so I’m very sure that whatever issue you have, is purely because your masculinity feels threatened by girls who are doing a job you couldn’t fathom. Either get your mind out of the 1800’s or get away from our team.”

“Spence” His head turned towards your voice, taking in your wide eyes and parted lips in shock. He had honestly lost himself in the midsts of his ramble, unable to help it because someone had made you upset. The sweetest, kindest, gentlest person was made to feel bad by a way too old male who was clearly unable to adjust to the way the world was evolving.

“Sorry” Spencer apologised for his ramble. The door slammed shut as the policeman left the room, and Spencer felt a strange sense of pride when he looked back up at you to see a gentle smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you pulled your eyes away from him back to the phone.

“Sorry about that pen.. Those medical records?”

Your smiled returned throughout the rest of the day, Hotch had gone out of his way to talk to the Sheriff and although nobody else had any idea what the conversation between the two included, it was clearly enough to make the Sheriff stay far far away from you and the rest of the team whenever possible.

Although your smile returned, Spencer could almost instantly notice the drastic difference. Maybe it was actually minor because no one else noticed, or maybe he just spent too much time admiring your pretty smile. Either way, he knew he didn’t like it.

“Spence” You said the nickname, a hint of curiosity lacing your tone. his head lifted towards yours with furrowed eyebrows and a small nod of acknowledgement. He repeated your name back to you in the same sort of curious tone.

He watched as you sat up a little bit straighter, meeting his eyes, offering him a smile before you head dipped down again and a gentle breath left your lips. “Do you think I’m unprofessional?” You asked, voice small and gentle and Spencer felt his heart ache so tensely it caused physical pain in his chest.

“No” He answered immediately. The rest of the team were out looking over the crime scenes while he opted for staying back with you while you looked for any connecting links between files. “I think you are very professional. You’re kind but that doesn’t make you unprofessional.” He added, quick to reassure any doubt that weighed down on your pretty mind.

You hummed gently, “But-“ He didn’t let you finish or come up with any sort of argument, he wouldn’t have it. He refused to let man who was balding make you feel any less about yourself.

“But nothing.” He said, his voice stern and final yet so gentle. “He was mean and sexist, if anyone is unprofessional it’s him. You are amazing at what you do, you are smart and kind and everyone who meets you loves you. You’re safe, for everyone. Victims especially. Not everyone has that about them” He said.

It was true, when working cases victims gravitated towards you and your comfort and kindness, if there was someone to trust it was you. Kids and witnesses were always more inclined to talk to you than anyone else on the team because there was something so sweet and welcoming and safe about you.

“You do” You said, tilting your head a little as you looked up at Spencer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion as to what you meant, but his heart skipped a beat anyways.

“You have that something safe about you.” You said, noticing the confusion that covered his features. His heart warmed and ached all at once. Spencer was glad, so so so glad that you found him safe, that he was able to make you feel that way — Honestly he was happy he had any effect on you whatsoever.

“You think so?” He asked, voice a little quieter as he held your gaze. He was scared that if he spoke any louder he may break the fragile moment. You nodded, a small smile on your face, a real smile.

“Mhm, I think thats why I got so comfortable with you so quickly. You’re so.. safe, and smart i think i trust anything you say so please don’t lie to me because that would end really badly for me, and probably give me trust issues and then i will never trust anyone again — and well thats just not good” You rambled out dramatically. Spencer’s smile widened for a series of reasons.

“I would never lie to you.” He said gently, voice carrying a hint of something more, honesty and truth and so much longing it was almost embarrassing, he hoped you missed the way his voice went up an octave.

“Okay good.” You smiled.

Your gaze lingered on Spencer’s for a moment before you turned your head away. He felt like the room had gotten too warm, he had to refrain from the urge to loosen his tie and rub the sweat away from his forehead.

“Did you like the book?” You asked, fingertips grazing over the folder of the case file you were supposed to be reading. Spencer’s eyes followed the movement of your hand before returning to the side of your face.

He nodded, mind going back to the words highlighted in blue and suddenly the room really was too warm, he could feel his palms growing disgustingly sweaty. “I loved it, actually.” Much less because of the context of the story and moreso because you had gifted it to him.

You shook your head as you lifted it to look at him, a smile playing on your lips. He was glad that was back, the sweet genuine smile on your face that could probably drown out any bad day.

“Im gonna be honest, I hate annotating books. I think pages should be left undrawn on, and crisp and beautiful but you like annotating books so i figured.. Um.. That it was a good way to tell you how I felt” You mumbled out, and Spencer was both insanely fond of you going out of your way to do something you disliked for him, and also immensely confused by what you meant.

“How you felt?” He furrowed his eyebrows and he watched as your face went through series of expressions before your eyes widened and your lips parted.

“Oh!” You huffed out, realising he had not understood what you were trying to do and you were now giving yourself away massively. “Oh thats— Really embarrassing actually.” You said as you smiled anyways, bringing your hands up to press against your flush cheeks to try and sooth the warmth.

His eyebrows pinched together as he sat up a little straighter, “No- What? What do you mean?” He asked, he found it sweet what you had highlighted and he didn’t see at all how that was embarrassing, or something he should be making a big deal out of.

You huffed out a laugh, “You’re smart Spencer, and a profiler. Im sure you can figure it out.” You said sweetly before pushing your chair out from the table, standing up. He wanted to reach out but he was stuck trying to figure out what the heck you meant.

“Im going to go get coffee.. Do you want some?” You asked, obviously relishing in his current confusion and obliviousness in order to get yourself out of this all too embarrassing situation if it ended in some sort of rejection you were buying yourself time.

“Um- What? No, No thank you” He answered confused, obviously his mind fixated on what you meant, on what he was missing and trying to figure it out.

You let out a laugh, “You’re sweet.” Before you left the room to get yourself coffee. Spencer’s cheeks warmed instantly at your compliment and if you had stayed longer he might’ve built the courage to argue how insanely ironic it was coming from you.

Instead, he sat confused. His mind going over the two lines highlighted in blue in the book you had gifted him, trying to understand how they referenced how you felt. He made you smile, that was good, he understood that.

But you always smiled. It didn’t take a lot to make you smile so how was that the big confession? Was there some context he was missing. Then he remembered the part of the story the line came from, a love confession. The context of the sentences used.

And suddenly he realised despite his iq, and being a literal genius, he was the biggest idiot on earth.

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fdelopera · 5 months ago

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Hamasniks are on track to become the next Jonestown

I've decided that I'm going to use a different strategy when I engage with Hamasniks.

I used to try to get them to feel empathy for Jews, thinking that maybe an experience of empathy for us would get them to wake up and realize that they are being Jew-hating bigots.

Maybe I could get them to feel some remorse for attacking Jews if I could get them to see that they are engaging in the same violent, depraved behavior that the Nazis engaged in during the 1930s, leading up to the Holocaust.

Maybe I could appeal to them using Rabbi Hillel's "golden rule": "What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah. Now go and study."

But I now know that these approaches were futile.

Why?

Because Hamasniks are in a cult.

The strategies I was using were all rational approaches, and Hamasniks are not behaving rationally.

They are in a cult that has compromised their empathy, which is a well-understood aspect of cult mind-control. And instead of feeling remorse for attacking us, these Hamasniks actually revel in harming Jews.

I started to realize this when I rewatched some documentaries about The Peoples Temple (aka Jonestown) and the Manson Family.

Imagine if Jim Jones and Charlie Manson were here today and had Instagram and TikTok, and you'll understand the scope of the cult that the Hamasnkis are part of.

Jonestown Massacre, explained

Jonestown Documentary

Manson Family Interviews

Manson Family Singing

Hamasniks are speedrunning both of these cults. And they are getting to the point where they will start being used as "sacrifices for the cause."

Aaron Bushnell was just a glimpse of what is yet to come for many of them.

So now, I am changing tactics.

I will no longer appeal to Hamasniks' empathy, because they have none. It has been beaten out of them.

Instead, I will give them a warning:

You are in a cult.

You may not fully realize this, which makes this cult especially dangerous for you.

The people running your cult are being very careful to "boil the frog" very slowly with you.

They started by teaching you some slogans to chant, and giving you some signs to carry.

They lovebombed you hard, and it felt wonderful to be part of a social group, especially after the extreme loneliness and isolation of Covid.

You didn't really understand what the "Pro-Palestine" movement was about at first, but you were just happy to be part of something larger than yourself.

Then Hamas carried out the October 7th terrorist attack, and within 24 hours, your cult leaders got you to chant their "Free Palestine" slogans in the streets, and they got you to harass Jews online.

You were told to tell Jews things like "Die Zio Scum" and "Hitler should have killed more of you rats."

You were told, "It's okay to attack these people, these people are Zionists, and Zionists are basically Nazis."

You were so lovebombed at this point that you didn't care that calling a Jew a "Nazi" is one of the worst things you can say to us. You showed your friends the hateful messages you were typing out, and you all giggled together at how much you were hurting these Jews.

Then your cult leaders got you to go out in the street and vandalize random Synagogues and Jewish businesses. They told you these were part of the "Zionist entity" that you were all trying to take down.

And sure, Jews were being attacked and murdered in the streets and in their homes all over the world, but you convinced yourself that their lives don't matter.

After all, your cult leaders told you that once Palestine is "free," every societal ill will somehow be "corrected."

And so, maybe you felt a little weird about spraypainting Nazi Swastikas on Synagogues, and maybe you felt a little guilty about smashing the windows of Jewish-owned businesses, but you did it anyway "for the cause."

Then your cult leaders got some of you to partake in University encampments, where they could indoctrinate you further. They controlled your food and water, and they deprived you of sleep. Those are some of the most well-understood methods of cult mind-control.

Then your cult leaders got you to take to the streets and harass and attack Jews in public places. Now you're no longer just spraypainting Nazi Swastikas on Synagogues or smashing up Jewish businesses, now you're are physically attacking Jews on the street.

That's all well and good, you might think.

You think you're just having some fun attacking Jews and larping as terrorists. You think this is just an opportunity to get some anger out.

But actually, that's not what is happening.

You see, this is not about you.

Your sense of "Main Character Syndrome" has blinded you to the obvious reality.

You are being primed to "give your life for the cause."

That is Hamas' entire strategy.

I suggest you get out of this cult while you still can.

The Islamists running your cult are warming you up for the final act.

Don't just take it from me. Learn about cults. They always end in bloodshed - and that blood is YOURS.

Don't believe me? Learn about Jonestown. Learn about the Manson Family. That is where you are headed.

You love to chant "Long Live the Intifada." Well, you should EDUCATE YOURSELVES about the Second Intifada.

You should EDUCATE YOURSELVES about what YOU will be forced to do in the Intifada that you are chanting for.

Hamas terrorists strapped bombs onto people and sent them into crowded areas to BLOW THEMSELVES UP in order to kill Jews.

And if you are not careful, that will be you.

That's where all this is headed.

Time to wake up, babes! You're in a cult.

#jumblr #hamasniks learn about cults challenge #it's so glaringly obvious #when will the hamasniks see that they are being used? ... probably at the same point that the jonestown cult members did #jonestown 2.0 here we come #jew-hate makes you stupid kids!

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 4 months ago

Note

Taking care of Jude after his shoulder surgery and trying to comfort him from the idea of not playing for 2 - 3 months, he is out of mood but you know how to cheer him up (maybe a bj)😉

Remedy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jude is sulking because of his injury and you have the perfect remedy to cheer him up.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.1k

Warnings! NSFW! FLUFF, slight domestic fluff, pouty Jude, he's hurting🥺 SMUT (18+), oral sex (m receiving),

He's quiet.

Has been since you came back from the hospital. The silence that now wraps around him is different from the comfortable, familiar quiet you used to share. It's thick, heavy, and it feels like a dark cloud is following you around.

He doesn't talk much. You're not sure if he even wants to. Every time you try to bring up something about the surgery or football, he just shakes his head and change the subject. You're starting to get worried; this isn't like him. You've seen him upset before, but he was never like this.

The doctor had said he'd be fine after some rest. That it was normal to feel this way after the surgery, especially given the length of his recovery time. Two to three months out of the game was going to be tough for anyone, let alone someone as dedicated as Jude.

You knew that this was going to be hard for him, but you were ready to support him. If that meant taking care of him and doing all the things he hated, then you were happy to do it.

You knew it wasn't just about the surgery, or the recovery time. It was everything else. Being away from his teammates, away from the game, it was hard for him. He felt useless. Inactive.

The only thing that brought him a little joy was you. He always smiled when you were around, and you were always happy to see him. Even if he was still in pain, even if he wasn't talking much. You could see it in his eyes. He was happy to see you.

And right now, he needed you more than ever.

The room is dimly lit when you walk in, casting a soft, amber glow over the furniture. The faint hum of the air conditioning mingles with whatever show he's watching on the TV.

Jude lies in bed, his left shoulder heavily bandaged and propped up with pillows. His face is still pained, but he's not using the morphine anymore. He's trying to tough it out, and it makes your heart ache to see him like that.

You sit down on the edge of the bed near him, smoothing the blankets with your hand. The sheets are crinkled, the bed is a mess, and you think about making it for him, but you know he doesn't want you to fuss. So, instead, you just smooth the blankets down, running your fingertips lightly over the fabric.

His eyes flicker over to you, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Hey,” he says, his voice raspy from lack of use.

You smile back, leaning over him. “Hey,” you say, pressing your lips softly against his forehead. He closes his eyes at the touch, a sigh escaping from between his lips.

“Do you want anything?” you ask, running your palm down his arm. “Painkillers? A glass of water?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I'm fine.” He smiles weakly at you and you nod.

“Are you watching anything interesting?” you ask, gesturing to the TV. The show is some sports documentary, something you're sure he's seen a thousand times before. But it brings him comfort so you hold back from making any comments.

He shakes his head again, reaching up to run his fingers over your cheek. “Just background noise,” he says. “I missed you,” he murmurs, pulling you close.

You settle next to him, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the coolness of the room. His touch is gentle, almost fragile, as though he's afraid to press too hard. Afraid of being hurt. You wrap your arm around him carefully, mindful of the bandaged shoulder.

You smile, running your hand down his side. “I missed you too,” you say.

He hums, turning his head to press a soft peck to your lips. The first kiss he's given you all day. “I'm sorry,” he whispers as he pulls away, his hand sliding up under your shirt.

You look up at him, confused. “What for?”

He sighs, his brow furrowing slightly. “For being a dick.”

You frown, shaking your head. “You weren't a dick,” you say.

He rolls his eyes, giving you a look. “Don't lie to me.”

You shake your head again. “I'm not lying,” you say, cupping his jaw in your palm. “I know you're upset, and you're not handling it well, but you weren't a dick.” He looks away, his shoulders hunching forward slightly.

He lets out a deep breath, like he’s been holding it in for too long. “It’s just,” he starts, but the words seem to get stuck somewhere between his heart and his mouth. He lets out a heavy sigh, his good hand clenching into a fist. "I just… I hate feeling useless. Watching the team from the sidelines, not being able to play… it's killing me."

You nod, understanding more than he realizes. “I know,” you say softly. “And you're not useless. You're healing. But you’re going to get through this. You’re the strongest person I know.”

He looks at you, his eyes tired but appreciative. “I don’t feel strong,” he admits. “I'm scared” his eyes look distant. “I feel like I’m losing everything that made me who I am.”

The honesty in his voice hits you like a wave, and you take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not alone,” you tell him, your voice steady. “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together.”

He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. You can see the worry in his gaze, the fear and the uncertainty. It breaks your heart to see him like that.

You give him a soft smile and press your lips to his once more. This time, he meets you halfway, his mouth opening to let you in. He sighs into your mouth, his arm wrapping tight around your waist as he deepens the kiss.

His kisses are slow and tender, careful not to touch your lips too hard. You let him lead, letting him control the pace as you kiss.

You press closer to him, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. His hands roam freely down your back, squeezing your ass and pulling you into him.

He breaks away from you, his breath hot against your face. “I missed kissing you,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. You laugh, and he smiles. It’s the first real smile he’s given you today.

“I missed kissing you too,” you say.

The room is quiet once more, but this time it feels different. The air is lighter, the atmosphere changed. The cloud that had been following you around has vanished, and in its place, there’s a sense of relief. Of calm.

Jude’s fingers trace light patterns on your back, a touch that is both tender and tentative. His breath, warm and uneven, mingles with yours as you stay close. You can feel the faint tremor in his hold, a reminder of the pain he's so desperately trying to mask.

He’s trying to be strong, to fight through this.

You wish you could take all his pain away. You think for a moment, searching for a way to lift his spirits. An idea forms in your mind, and you smirk. You know just what he needs to cheer him up.

The doctor strictly forbade sex for the sake of Jude's quick recovery. But he never said anything about Oral sex. You internally cackle at your own deviousness.

You break away from him, leaning back to give him a sly smile. He doesn't see you, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

You smirk, letting your gaze wander down his body, letting your eyes linger on his crotch. You can just barely see the outline of his cock in his grey sweatpants. He's soft, not aroused, but that's okay. You can change that.

You lean up on your elbow, propping yourself up so you can get a better view. He shifts next to you, his eyes flicking to you. His mouth opens to say something, but he catches sight of the hungry look in your eyes and closes it again.

He smiles, raising his eyebrows. “You’re staring,” he says, his tone amused.

You nod, not ashamed. “I am.”

His smile grows, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

You smirk, letting your gaze travel further down his body. “About sucking your cock,” you say, watching as his expression changes from amused to surprised, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline.

He swallows hard, his eyes dropping back to your mouth. “I didn’t…” he starts, trailing off when he catches the look in your eyes. You smirk, biting your lip, and he trails off once more.

He looks up at you, his face still surprised, but there’s something else there now too. Desire.

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Do you want me to?” you ask, watching as he shifts next to you, adjusting his position in the bed.

He licks his lips, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard, trying to act nonchalant. “I mean,” he starts, “if you want to.”

You grin, leaning over to press your lips to his once more. This time, you kiss him harder, more urgently. He groans into your mouth, his good arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You're careful of his shoulder, mindful of the bandage.

He lets you lead, following where you take him. Your hands slide up under his shirt, your fingers tracing over his abs. He's lean, his muscles defined from hours spent working out. He shivers beneath your touch, his cock hardening in his pants.

You pull away from him, giving him a heated look as you straddle him. You lean up, running your tongue over his bottom lip before biting it gently. He groans, his hips jerking up into yours.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to watch the trajectory of your hand.

You chuckle, leaning back to run your palm over his cock. He lets out another low groan at the touch, his eyes closing as he throws his head back. “That feels so good,” he says.

You hum, your fingers brushing over the waistband of his pants. He shifts beneath you, his cock twitching in response. You lean over him, running your lips down his neck. “Do you want my mouth around your cock?” you ask.

He gasps at the question, his eyes flying open. “Jesus,” he says, his voice hoarse. He nods, his head bobbing up and down. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

You grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his neck. “Good,” you say.

His hands slide up under your shirt, running over your back. “Take your clothes off,” he says, his voice still hoarse. “I want to see you.” You smirk, leaning up to pull your shirt over your head.

He groans, running his hand up over your breast. “Fuck,” he says, squeezing your nipple between his fingers. “You’re beautiful.”

You smile, leaning back to take off your pants. “I’m going to take my clothes off,” you say, sliding the fabric down your thighs. “But then, you have to take your pants off.” He nods, his hand slipping down your stomach as you slide off the bed.

He shifts next to you, his eyes following your body as you move. You kick your pants off and stand up, your fingers hooking into his waistband as you lean over him. “Your turn,” you say, pulling his sweats down.

He lifts his hips for you, wincing slightly as you tug the fabric over his cock. The skin sensitive from the lack of use in the past few weeks. “Sorry,” you say, trying not to hurt him.

He shakes his head, smiling. “I’m fine,” he says.

You hum, leaning over to press your lips to his thigh. He shudders beneath you, his hand sliding up to rest on your head. “Please, baby! Don't tease.” he says, his voice a low whine.

His cock is hard, standing straight up from his body. The head is a deep, angry red, his veins visible under the skin. A drop of precum glistens on the tip, and you can't help but lean closer, your tongue darting out to lick it away.

He moans at the touch, his hips jerking upwards. You smirk, running your tongue around the head before licking down his shaft. He groans again, his head falling back onto the pillows.

You lean down further, licking the sensitive spot underneath the head. His hips jerk up again, his thighs clenching around you. He groans, his hand tightening in your hair. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You hum, licking him once more. You want him to feel good, to take his mind off the pain and the surgery. You want him to focus on the pleasure.

Your fingers trail down his shaft, curling around him to hold him in place. Your tongue moves faster, flicking against the tip of him before licking down to his balls. They’re heavy and swollen, hanging loose under him. He groans when you touch them, his hips twitching with each brush of your lips.

You tease him for a minute, licking and sucking at his balls before moving back to the head. You swirl your tongue around it, sucking the head into your mouth. He groans again, his hips rocking into your mouth.

You take him deeper, sucking harder as you bob your head on him. His hips jerking upwards as he groans. His hand tightens in your hair, holding your head in place. “Fuck sweetheart. Take me deeper, be a good girl,” he gasps, his cock twitching in your mouth.

You hum around him, sucking harder as you move your head faster. He groans again, his thighs shaking under you. “You're so good at this baby. Don’t stop, please,” he says.

You don't plan to, sucking him deeper into your mouth. Your lips slide down his shaft until they meet his trimmed pubes at his base. The dark hairs dust your nose, tickling it. Your mouth is stretched around him, the tip of his cock bumping against the back of your throat.

You swallow, your throat closing around him. He gasps, good hand coming to cover his face, the pleasure too much for him. His shoulder starts to ache behind his jerky movements but he doesn't care. He wants more. “Fuck, that feels good,” he says, his hips rocking up into you.

You pull back, your mouth popping free of him. His cock is shiny, slick with your spit. “Gonna make you cum down my throat,” you say, looking up at him. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide as he looks down at you.

"Yeah?" he whispers, his voice a low growl. "Go ahead then. Take me all the way in that pretty little mouth. Gag on it." His words send shivers down your spine, your own body growing hot in response to his. You're soaked, your pussy dripping wet and aching to be filled.

You lean down, sucking him back into your mouth. His head falls back, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You gag on him, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Tears fill your eyes as he fucks into you, using your mouth as he likes. He’s rough, his hips slamming upwards to meet you as you bob your head on him.

You gag again, drool soaking his cock as you choke on him dripping down his thighs. It's messy, wet. Just the way he likes it He groans, his cock twitching in your mouth. “Oh shit, baby, I’m close,” he says.

You suck him deeper, your tongue working overtime as he fucks into your mouth. He’s getting closer, his movements growing more erratic as he teases the edge. You can feel the pleasure building in him, the muscles in his thighs tensing under you.

He’s so close now, his cock twitching in your mouth as he gasps. “Baby,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m about to come.” He moans again, his hips jerking up to meet you.

You swallow around him, taking him deep. He cums down your throat, his cock jerking in your mouth. His hips slam upwards, filling your mouth with his seed. You swallow it down, taking it all as he comes.

When he's done, you pull back, gasping for breath. He relaxes back on the bed, his head falling back on the pillows. His chest is heaving, and a light sheen of sweat is covering his skin.

“Fuck,” he says, his voice breathless. “That was so good.” His cock is softening now, tip red, pulsing and glistening with spit.

He sighs again, his eyes opening to look down at you. “Thanks baby,” he says, his voice low and soft. “That was amazing.”

You smile, crawling up his body to rest your head on his chest. “Welcome,” you say, kissing his skin. “I’m sorry again, about your shoulder. It's going to suck not being able to play.”

He hums, his good arm coming to wrap around you. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head is a soothing. His breath, steady and deep, caresses your cheek, and you can feel the faint pulse of his heartbeat as you nestle in closer.

“I’ll be alright,” he says. “I just need some time.” His fingers run through your hair, his touch comforting. You lean into him, your body relaxing. You’re comfortable here, wrapped in his arms.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, looking up at him. His eyes are closed, his chest still rising and falling in a slow rhythm. “Jude?”

He opens his eyes, looking down at you. “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I could eat.”

You smile, crawling off the bed. “I’ll go make some lunch,” you say, bending down to pick your pants up off the floor. His hand slides up the back of your thigh as you stand. You shiver, your body responding to the touch.

You straighten, pulling your pants on, still shirtless. “Don't even think about it,” you say, laughing watching his eyes glued to your chest. “Your shoulder needs to heal.”

He sighs, flopping back onto the bed. “Fine,” he says, grumbling.

You laugh again, pulling your shirt on. “Be good,” you say, walking over to kiss him. “I’ll bring your food up.”

He nods sulking, but smiles. “Love you,” he says, his voice soft and low.

You smile, leaning down to kiss him again. “Love you too,” you say. You walk out of the room, him watching your ass sway with each step. He’s smiling when you leave, the pain and frustration forgotten.

For now, at least, he’s happy. And that's all that matters.

-Bianca🌻

#footballer x reader #football #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude x you #jb5 #bellingham

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foldingfittedsheets · 7 months ago

Text

We had lunch with a friend who was relating a story to us about a friend of hers who lives in a rural area populated by a very large number of mountain lions.

She and her husband were at home when they watched a mountain lion jump their back fence, dead deer in tow, dragging its prey to their back shed. They watched with horrified fascination as this apex predator started absolutely going to town on this deer carcass. Honestly, same. I’d have watched too, I love a free nature documentary.

But after several hours as the cougar continued to lounge they started to be concerned. This was not a neighbor they wanted. They didn’t want to call animal control so they did what any rural American would do and grabbed their guns.

Their first several warning shots were met with unimpressed ambivalence, the cougar regarding them with the smugness of a fat and happy cat who’s heard a gun before.

Frustrated, they went back to the drawing board. Then they decided to stand on the back step with two different speakers at max volume blasting the cougar with sound waves. While also firing their guns in the air. This finally achieved the desired result, the cougar hightailed it away at top speed.

What were they blaring, you ask? What scared the lion from its den?

NPR.

Our friend was laughing as she said, “It didn’t mind the guns but it hated NPR, it was one conservative cougar!”

#ramblies #ffs foibles #funny #story

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zegrasdrysdale · 1 year ago

Text

[ one day ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) accidentally distracts Jack while he’s being interviewed in their home for a day in the life of a Devils player documentary that's being filmed, and Jack brings up the idea of a proposal

warning(s) : a quick mention of suggestive content but no actual sex

author’s note : i don’t understand how this plot came to be and tbh it's kinda stupid but i’m taking it and running with it

༺═──────────────═༻

Jack being one of NHL's most popular players has it's pros and cons. Today is one of those cons that they both hate. Jack is being followed around for the day to film a Devils documentary that follows players during their off days. Jack being one of the Devils' star players means he had to do the documentary.

That was before (Y/N) talked him into it. She didn't realize how intense it would all be. An entire film crew has set up in their living room with big cameras and lighting. They have made themselves very much at home after knocking on their door at the crack of dawn.

The two of them were having a really good morning in bed together when the film crew came knocking. Lots of naked cuddles and kisses were exchanged when a knock rang out through their apartment. It ruined both of their moods.

They stand in their kitchen and watch the crew finish setting up from the island counter. Jack is now dressed in a dark grey Devils hockey t-shirt with black sweatpants that have a Devils logo on the pant leg.

"Do you want me in this?" (Y/N) questions. Jack looks over at her with a confused look on his face. "I mean, we've been mostly quiet about our relationship so I completely understand if you don't want me to be apart of your episode of the documentary."

Jack shakes his head as soon as the words pass her lips. "No, I want you in this, (Y/N)," he tells her. "It's a documentary about a day in my life and you're a really big part of my life so of course I want you in this. Just let me do the interview really quick then we can act like it's a normal day."

The woman doing the interview is one of the Devils reporters, but (Y/N) can't remember her name at the moment. She sits opposite Jack in the comfy chair. The camera over her shoulder is pointed at Jack.

While Jack is being interviewed, (Y/N) goes to her room to get ready for their insane day ahead. She needs to put on some actual clothes too. All she's been wearing since she got out of bed is one of Jack's t-shirts and a pair of really small shorts. Not exactly what she wants to be wearing if she's going to be followed around for most of the day by people that work for the Devils.

She can hear some of the questions being asked while she's getting changed. They're the usual questions. Asking about how the season is going for him, how he's been recovering from that shoulder injury that kept him off the ice for a handful of games, and how it's been having his brother on the team with him. Sometimes Jack's sassy side comes out. He's never been the one to hide how he's feeling when answering questions.

To mess with Jack a little bit, and to kind of surprise him when he's done with the interview, (Y/N) grabs Jack's Devils hoodie that he wears to practice sometimes. His number sits on her chest and it's a little too big. She pairs the black hoodie with a pair of jeans that are ripped at the knee. She throws her hair up into a high ponytail and puts on light makeup just to cover any blemishes or pimples that'll pop out on camera.

When she leaves their bedroom, Jack is talking about how amazing it is to be considered one of the league's best players.

"It's always the goal to be one of the best in whatever sport you play," Jack is saying as she walks through the living room. "I, um, didn't think it would happen, uh, so early on in my, um, career." (Y/N) looks over and sees that Jack has his eyes on her. "Sorry. Got distracted." There's a smile on his face when he sees what she's wearing.

The reporter turns and looks at (Y/N). "I didn't know your girlfriend lived with you, Jack," she says as she turns back to him. (Y/N) smiles and starts to make some coffee.

"One of the best decisions I have ever made," Jack says from the living room. "Getting to fall asleep with her in my arms and waking up with her wrapped around me is an honor. We've been together for over two years now and it's been incredible. My parents and brothers all love her, but not nearly as much as I do."

(Y/N) smiles to herself as the coffee brews. Her back is to him at the moment so he can't see the smile.

The way Jack talks about her sometimes makes her fall in love with him a little more. She talks about him like that all the time to friends and family, but knowing he's saying all of this in front of a camera for a documentary makes what he'[s saying a little more special. He isn't holding back because he's on camera.

"That's so cute," the interviewer says. "Could we be expecting a Jack Hughes proposal soon?"

"We'll see what happens," Jack replies. That causes her to spin around immediately and look at Jack. The smile that was on his face is still there as their eyes meet from two different rooms. Her smile grows bigger.

They've never talked about marriage. Both of them are very happy with where they are at in their relationship so they both not rushing to walk down the aisle. Plus, they're 21 and 22 respectively so they're still really young. They don't have to get married right now.

The interview goes by without another mention of marriage, or (Y/N). She's okay with that because this is about Jack and his accomplishments as NHL's rising star. He's come a long way since his rookie year.

(Y/N) was around that year but they weren't together. They were close friends at that point so she saw every day how Jack struggled his rookie year. He struggled with hockey and he struggled with what people were saying about him online. Calling him a NHL bust despite being drafted first overall.

They grew closer that year and it was during his sophomore season when they got together. She's been super supportive of him since he got drafted, but especially after his rookie year.

Jack quickly excuses himself before he gets mic'd up for the rest of the day. She's pouring coffee into two mugs for both of them when Jack comes up behind her and wraps his arms around his girlfriend.

"I know we never talked about it but-"

"Yes, I'd like to get married to you one day, Jack," (Y/N) interrupts as she turns in his arms. He presses her against the counter with one hand and takes his hot coffee in his other. "We don't have to rush into anything though. I'm happy with where we are and you're still trying to prove yourself in the NHL."

"So one day?" he asks.

She leans forward and kisses him softly and quickly. "One day."

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fanfiction

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ludwig-van-gaythoven · 8 months ago

Text

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader)

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, implied ED

Parts

Part 1// Part2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

School trips were never really your thing. Sure it was good to be out of classes but to you it just seemed like an extension of school and honestly you’d rather be anywhere else.

One of the teachers thought it would be a bright idea to take you all out of school for a week to spend it in a forest ‘immersed in nature’. Possibly their tactic to get everyone to stop being at eachother a throats especially after the whole Cady incident a few months back.

It didn’t help that your best friends Janis and Damien both ended up getting sick at the last minute so couldn’t come with you , now you had to stay in your shared cabin alone. At least you didn’t have to room with a random person the whole trip, small mercies I guess.

The coach drive there was boring. You sat near the front, making sure to put your bag on the seat next to yours so nobody tried to sit with you. Of course Queen Regina and her minions took ownership of the back of the coach, that’s why you decided to sit upfront. Best to stay out of the firing line.

It’s not that you hated Regina, you understand why she’s the way she is. It’s a smart move to position yourself at the top of the food chain to avoid being mauled. Your tactic has always been to just steer clear of the food chain entirely which has worked so far.

The coach finally comes to a stop after a few hours and everyone shoves their way off and mills around in groups before a teacher starts to call out names and lodge numbers so people can go and unpack.

As soon as you turn the corner you hear Regina’s shriek of horror.

“Eww, what the fuck are these. I thought we were staying in chalets”

You roll you eyes. The cabins were clean, neat, maybe a little rustic. Of course Regina would still have to be dramatic about it.

“I’m sure forcing us to stay in one of these is some form of neglect.” She snarks at Mrs Norbury as she takes her hot pink suitcase over to her accommodation.

Luckily you get assigned one of the cabins at the edge of the forest, it’ll be quiet. Unfortunately it’s the next cabin over from the plastics. Not that they’ll even notice you there, I’m not sure any of them even know your name. It feels safe to be invisible, if not a bit lonely.

Once everyone is settled, a teacher comes round to each cabin explaining that tonight you can just get settled. No hiking or activities today, just a campfire and dinner later. That suits you perfectly. You sit on the creaky bed in your cabin, pull out your Switch console and start to get lost in a game. Hours pass before dinner call and you make your way, alone to the campfire.

You sit on your own, out of the way of all the different high school cliques. At this point you wish Janis and Damien were here. It feels vulnerable sitting alone.

To distract yourself you watch the other groups like a documentary maker. Noting the way they interact, the tension between them and the clique next to them. However nobody quite catches your eye like Regina.

She’s like a lioness. She has this invisible hold over everyone. They can all fuck about in their own groups but as soon as someone steps a foot out of place she roars and swishes her mane and everyone scampers back to obedience.

Currently she’s sitting at a bench with Gretchen and Karen, they’re talking enthusiastically about their plans for the trip; makeovers, cabin decoration, girly shit. Regina seems zoned out, she’s been pushing the same bit of food around her plate for a good 15 minutes. Every few minutes it’s like she’s trying to solve a puzzle, rearranging everything until teachers tell us to go back to our cabins and rest for the evening. You’re not sure you saw her eat a single thing, the food is probably not up to her standards.

Regina stands and suddenly seems snapped out of her trance, flashing a grin and summoning Karen and Gretchen back to the cabin with her.

You follow, a good distance behind. No point getting too close to danger, and slip back to your Cabin unnoticed.

There’s not much to do alone in a forest so you end up putting on a movie and start a new page in your sketchbook. Janis and Damien are the only ones to know you draw. That’s how you ended up speaking with Janis in the first place. If that news ever got back to Regina she’d probably have something to finally pick on you for, but so far you aren’t even on her radar.

You lose a lot of time sketching out some of the trees you can see out of the window, lots of tall, looming pines fill the page, you start to sketch a lion between the trees.

Eventually darkness creates a blanket around the forest. There’s a soft glow from many lamps outside of cabin doors, but past that, the forest seems endless in the dark. It’s 10:30pm. Teachers are fast asleep. Students definitely are not.

You hear snickering coming from the plastics cabin. Their lights are still on, not that you care at all.

Since all the teachers are asleep you decide that it’s probably safe to sneak out and have a cigarette. You stand down the side of the cabin so that your silhouette is obscured slightly by a bush and hunt through your pockets for a lighter. Finally you light the cigarette, trying to blow the smoke downwind, away from the teachers window.

“Karen! Fuck! Would you just stop puking, shut up!”

You watch from the shadow as Karen falls out of the door and begins to heave into the bush next to their window. Gretchen follows quickly, shaking Karen by the shoulders, desperately trying to get her to shut up so they don’t wake anyone. Regina steps out too, slightly loosing balance and nearly falling down the steps after them.

Clearly they’re all drunk. Someone must have snuck alcohol in.

Regina tries to keep a composed look but you see panic flash across her face briefly as her eyes scan around them, watching for any witnesses. You stay completely still against the cabin wall.

Karen finally stops for a second and they grab her by the arms to try and get her back inside. Their balance isn’t very good either and on the way in Regina’s foot connects briefly with a terracotta plant pot which wobbles for a second and then crashes to the ground, smashing over the front step. A sound that cuts through the night air.

The light to the teachers cabin flicks on.

You quickly drop the cigarette and stomp it out before silently scrambling back into your room, making sure the door closes soundlessly, watching intently through the window.

Mrs Norbury storms over to the plastics lodge, already suspecting they caused the noise.

You can’t make out exactly what’s being said. There’s a lot of shouting, from both parties. Then Mrs Norbury leaves, and the plastics light goes off too.

You quickly get into bed. It’s unlikely anyone will check in on you, but you decide it’s time to sleep anyway, it’s late, and drift off to the sound of the wind through trees. The wind sounds faintly like a roar.

In the morning you shower and begin to get changed when there’s a knock at your door.

“Regina will be rooming with you for the rest of the week, make sure she doesn’t try sneaking out.”

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #renee rapp #mean girls fanfic #regina george fanfic #lesbian Regina george

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pixiesfz · 8 months ago

Text

inspired by canada's new series

camera shot j.f x reader

plot: you are hired to help film the canadian womens soccer teams documentary throughout the gold cup and end up socialising with the players

warnings: none

“Oh c’mon Joan I’ve been looking for a promotion for weeks and I know my way around San Diego, my auntie took me everywhere and I-“

Your boss put her hand over your mouth “Shush child” she said, her British accent thick “If you had let me finish my sentence I was going to tell you that you’re coming with me to film a short documentary”

Your eyes lit up “Really? Like you’re not fucking with me?” you ask with a smile and your boss nodded with a smile “We know you’ve been stepping up and you deserve it”

You smiled brightly “Thank you so much!”.

“Meet me at five in the morning for the plane ride” She called out as you started walking away and you shot her a thumbs-up.

When you got home to your apartment in Portland, where you had recently moved with your boss who got a better offer and took you with her you started packing, asking your neighbour to look after your cat muffin.

You only knew little about your neighbour, you knew she played soccer professionally and you knew she was Canadian, she’d had some more friends over recently, and now you were scared to open the door and have someone else open it.

Luckily Christine opened it with a smile “Hey y/n” she smiled before seeing the fluffy cat in your “and muffin”.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but I just got this documentary series for one of the teams in the ‘gold cup’ thing and I need someone to look after my cat” You smiled shyly, holding muffin up like he was a prize.

“He only scratches when you don’t give him belly scratches when he wants it” you instructed and the older woman just nodded, grabbing the cat out of your hands “You’re filming Canada by the way,” she told you and you smiled “are they all nice?” you asked and she nodded “extremely, way more than me,” she said as she started playing with your cat's ears.

“Yes, because you’re so scary”

Christine gave you a deadpan stare before dropping the cat onto her floor which he then immediately ran onto her couch and made himself comfortable.

“I can give you a rundown on everything if you’d like,” Christine said as she saw your shaky hands, you were very nervous and you nodded “Yes please, I just need to pack,” you told her “You can tell me whilst I do that,” you told her before running back to your apartment, Christine walking behind you before closing the door on Muffin who had now fallen asleep on her couch.

“Okay so I retired from my national career last year so I’m not there”

“oldie” you teased and the woman threw a Canadian scarf at you, which she had grabbed on her way out “I’m not old, and that is if you need to go to a game” You folded it into your suitcase “Thanks”

She explained to you the new girls and the younger ones before she went in depth about some of the others “And then there’s Jessie, she’s the new captain, I like to call her a mini-me” You smiled “Well that’s cute”

“She hates it though, so don’t call her that”

“I hardly think I’ll have a conversation with her or any of them,” you said with a shake of the head “They’re Canadians, they love to talk also Jessie isn’t the biggest fan of social media so maybe keep that in mind when she found out about the series she called in a nervous mess,” Christine said and you took a mental note to remember it “she is the captain though so that might be hard” you mumbled.

“You’re talented I think you can do it,” Christine told you before looking at her phone “It’s twelve, go to bed, where’s muffins food?”

“Next to the potted plant in the front” you sighed before zipping up your case.

Christine got up from her seat and rubbed her hands on her lap “Just look after Fleming for me, she can get in her head sometimes” she said softly and you nodded “I can do that”.

Christine nodded before leaving the room, you heard her pick up the food before she left.

The next twenty-four hours were a bit of a blur for you, you boarded the plane with Joan and two other camera guys and flew to San Diego where the Gold Cup was being held, and arrived at your hotel where Joan let you all take a long nap before you were needed in the meeting room.

You roll out of bed, putting a pair of jeans and a sweater on before walking down with your camera.

“You must be one of the camera people?” a voice popped up and you turned to a blonde woman “Yeah I’m y/n” you introduced yourself and the Canadian nodded “Chloe, I can walk with you to the meeting room, you look a little lost”

You gratefully nodded and followed behind the girl who you learnt played for Arsenal which Christine had told you, but you didn’t want the players knowing their ex-captain gave you a lesson about all of them.

When the two of you walked in, you felt people staring at you before Chloe smiled “this is y/n one of the filmers?” she asked and you nodded “Pretty much”

Some of the girls who arrived early started asking you questions right away.

‘Where are you from?’

‘Do you support a team?’

‘I like your sweater’

“Guy’s leave her be for a second she just got here”

A voice popped up and you looked across to a girl who had brown short hair, a little bit shrivelled up and her hands were in her pockets. She must’ve just woken up from a nap.

But you recognised her from Christine’s ‘lesson’

You smiled shyly at her before the Canadians gave you all sympathetic looks “It’s okay umm to answer your questions Uhm unfortunately I’m not that into sports, I’m from Los Angeles and thankyou I like this sweater too” You smiled and some of the girls laughed, including Jessie who still seemed tired, or maybe nervous.

You excused yourself to set up your camera and started to film once the meeting began, there were little introductions and you smiled and waved when their coach announced your name, catching eye contact with Jessie, both of you quickly looking away.

Their coach announced Jessie as the captain as you did your job, zooming up to the girl who glanced at you through the corner of her eye before being congratulated by friends.

Once the meeting finished you started to pack up your camera as Joan told you to interview some of the girls as she saw you talking to some of them.

When she left you saw another figure approaching you “Hi” a Canadian voice popped up and you whipped your head around to see Jessie “hi” you smiled and she looked down at your feet “Do you live in Portland by any chance?” she asked and you quickly zipped up your bag.

You didn’t want them to know you were friends with Christine, you felt like it would effect your job as their interviewer.

“Uhm yeah, why?” you asked and Jessie blushed “Oh I just- I just thought I had seen you before that’s all” she said, one hand brushing her hair back behind her ear.

“I’m guessing you live in Portland then?” you ask, standing up and she nods “Only recently though, I used to live in London before” You smiled “I have friends from college who live there, they say it’s nice but just really cold” Jessie nodded with a smirk “They are not wrong trust me”.

You just laughed and pulled your bag across your shoulder and Jessie looked to the door “I can walk you back to the room, It’s a bit hard to navigate” she offered

You thought back to when her teammate had found you at a loss because of that you had remembered how to get up but for some reason, you didn’t want to say no to the girl in front of you.

“Sure”

Jessie smiled before setting off out of the room, you beside her.

“What room are you?” she asked “307” you replied and she smiled “I’m 310” she revealed and you laughed “maybe we’ll run into each other more, “I really want to go to the hotel pool and spa but there's no free time during the day, the schedule is packed”

“Late night swim then?” Jessie asked and you nodded “maybe”.

You didn’t realise you had made it to your room before Jessie stopped walking “Well have a good night and maybe don’t try to wake me when you go the the pool” she teased and you rolled your eyes

“Maybe another night, I am dying for some sleep,” you said and the girl laughed as she reached her door.

“Bye Y/n’

‘Bye Jessie”

The first couple of days in camp were full of training for the Canadian team, sometimes you would pull some of the girls out for one-on-one questions which they always smiled and answered with full honesty.

Sabrina and you had to take a break from how much she made you laugh with silly comments.

After the first game, Canada came on top and you tried hard not to scream out in cheers as you were filming but once you stopped you greeted the girls with hugs. Squeezing Jessie a bit harder and congratulated her first game as the official captain.

“It’s um- It’s-“ she stuttered before shaking off her nerves “Thanks” she smiled and you laughed “Nasty black eye” You pointed at her eye which was red and blotchy, already bruising in some parts, Jessie lifted her fingertips up and lightly pressures the skin surrounding her eyes “Hopefully it will make me look badass” she laughed and you tilted your head to get a good look at it.

“Hopefully it’s not too bad for a coffee date tomorrow”

Jessie’s face turned red “What?” she asked and you blushed as well but laughed “Your interview at the café” you explained and Jessie looked at her feet “Oh yeah- I- I forgot” she admitted running her hand through her hair.

“I’ll leave you guys to it then, see you all at the hotel” you yelled out to the team before running after Joan who was already out of the arena.

Once you were sitting in the car your phone buzzed “Is that from Jessie?” Joan asked and you swivelled your head “Umm what no!” you said quickly, and your boss laughed “I’ve seen you two mingling”

“Please never say that word again”.

In the morning you were excited to get out of bed, even if the sun was still rising and it was weird because you were not a morning person.

Then you thought about your boss's comment.

Have you started to have a thing for the Canadian captain?

You hesitantly knocked on the girl's door which she quickly opened right after “Hey” she smiled and you waved your camera back at her “Hey Fleming” Smiling Jessie stepped out and closed her door “What café are we going to?” she asked “I chose a good one don’t worry”

You both tried to ignore stares from the public eye once you started setting up your camera and Jessie pretended to be preoccupied by her phone.

“all done” you smiled sweetly at Jessie “Can I press record?” she asked, confused by the video camera on the tripod, you found it adorable “Absolutely,” you said and the girl dived in.

“What does this button do?” she asked, and you peered your head over her shoulder, not realising that the impact made the girl red “That switches the brightness” you explained, brushing your fingertips to show her.

“I think if I wasn’t always so busy with soccer, I’d be taking pictures and videos of beautiful things all the tim,e” she told you and you nodded “It’s my favourite thing to do” you told her and she smiled, finally finding the record button.

“Can I say action?” she cheekily asked, and you nodded, laughing “if you really want to”

“Action!”

Jessie walked away from the camera, and you took over the camera as she walked over to the barista “hi” her cheery Canadian voice sounded, and she ordered her chair but turned back to you “do you want anything?” she asked and you popped your head up

“You don’t have to”

“I want to.”

You went silent before you remembered you hadn’t drunk or eaten anything yet “Just a hot chocolate please”

The barista smiled between your interactions as Jessie added a hot chocolate to her meal.

You both moved outside to start your interview, you smiled as Jessie talked about her passion, catching her eye a couple of times which made you both blush.

When your drinks came out you thanked the waitress who smiled at you both before telling Jessie she supported Chelsea but quickly came back with “we’ll miss you on the pitch”.

You laughed as Jessie got embarrassed, happy to catch It on film.

“That was sweet,” you told her and she laughed “Some Chelsea fans aren’t as sweet,” she told you and you hummed “I can imagine, as I’ve heard it’s a very hard on club”

You both went back to the interview before finishing up “Can you see my black eye?” she asked and you shook your head “Only when you looked straight at the camera but you hardly did that”

“I’m not the biggest fan of being filmed or doing social media” she admitted “I can kind of tell” You laughed and Jessie picked up your camera “Can I try and film?”

“film what?” you ask “Beautiful things” She shrugged “Like you said” she added and you felt a weird tingly feeling in your stomach.

You weren’t sure if it was from her words or the way her arms flexed when she picked the camera up and turned it towards you.

Jessie seemed to make it evident that she was filming you, making you blush “I see the appeal” she hummed before passing it back to you.

“Have you gone to the hotel spa yet?” Jessie asked and you nodded “I swam around the night after the game but I’m planning on going again” You responded, “Maybe this time I’ll join you?” Jessie asks hesitantly.

You smiled at her question “I would like that Jess” you told her, and she turned to you, slightly shocked “Yeah?” she asked and you nodded “yeah it be nice to have some company”.

Throughout the day you couldn’t stop smiling, thinking of Jessie and your conversation in the coffee shop but you tried to dial it down, filming the girls training as if nothing happened.

You will admit you found yourself filming Jessie more than the others at certain times.

You joined the team huddle next to Sabrine and Janine, Sabrine whispering ‘action’ in your ear, her arm around your waist making you laugh, catching Jessie’s attention as her eyes glared daggers at her Canadian teammate, which did not go unnoticed by Janine who pointed her brows at her friend.

To which Jessie ignored.

When the small meeting ended between the group you filmed everyone leaving, getting ready for the game against the USA.

Jessie was watching as you panned the camera around, not seeing her best friend behind her “Jessie” Janine said and the girl shrieked, the sound going from nowhere “Where did you come from?” the ex-Chelsea player said, her voice slightly raised from panic.

“Well you would’ve noticed if you weren’t too busy ogling the camera girl,” the blonde girl said, her eyebrows raised “Her name is y/n,” Jessie said with her eyes looking to the floor “Right, y/n” Janine nodded.

Janine looked back over to you as you were now packing up, cocking her head as she took a good look at you “She’s familiar” she hummed as Jessie span her face around “Stop looking at her, or else she’ll know we’re talking about her”

“Oh calm down Jess, she’s probably into you too” Janine brushed her friend off who was now blushing “I’m not-“ she tried to lie but her friend shot her a look “Okay I’m into her”.

Janine gasped “I know how I know her now!” Jessie bulged her eyes, slapping her friend “Shut up” she said before running away into the rooms, blushing as you looked over, waving to Janine who held a smile and ran up to you.

“You’re Christine's neighbor!” she said loudly, proud of herself as you stuttered “Y-yeah I am” you smiled and Janine stepped back “Oh did you not want people to know” she cringed and you shook your head “No it’s fine I think, I just didn’t want to bring it up or brag about it” you explained and the girl nodded and you continued, finding a flow in the conversation “I tried to be very professional coming into this and not really talk so I didn’t think people needed to know but you guys are all nice” you shrugged and Janine nodded “I just recognised you, I’ve been to Christine’s a lot”

You nodded “Yeah she’s looking after my cat right now” you laughed and she joined you, silently judging your character for her good friend.

“I need to see a picture”.

The weather was horrendous for the American game, limiting your access to filming in certain area but you were still drenched under your big raincoat that covered you. Filming as all the women practically swam around the ground.

Some of them even apologized as when they kicked near you, a gush of water fell on you from the impact.

You just responded with a smile and thumbs up. Hoping your camera won’t break soon.

You got up for penalties, finally going inside with your camera as you were called in “They lost?”

You asked as Joan walked in, helping you check the camera’s and nodded “I would allow you to check on Jessie but the two guys I had come with us have disappeared somewhere so you’re all I got right now” she sighed, the feeling of defeat on everyone’s shoulders.

“So we go home tomorrow?” you ask and the woman nodded

“We go home tomorrow”.

When you were sat in your room you watched the digital clock as it hit midnight, but you weren’t tired, you weren’t tired at all.

So you got up, put on your triangle bikini and the hotels dressing gown, grabbed a towel and walked out. You thought about knocking on Jessie’s door but elected not to thinking she needed her time.

She was probably asleep anyway.

You sat in the spa, your head laid back on your shoulders before you heard the door open, revealing a tired Jessie Fleming.

“I can leave if you want” you said, not sure if the girl wanted alone time but she shook her head “I was actually hoping you would be here” she gave you a half smile and you smiled back before she jumped into the spa with you.

There was a comfortable silence before you looked at Jessie “You okay?” you asked and the girl shrugged “This was just my first tournament as captain” she explained “can’t help but feel I let them down”

You nodded “You didn’t let anyone down Jess”.

The girl nodded, smiling at the nickname. “Can we talk about something other than football?” she asked and you smiled “sure, do you have a big family?”

The both of you talked, bringing smiles on each other’s faces, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting next to each other both of your thighs touching.

“I can’t believe you took dance classes in college” you laughed, looking at the girl “I had moves” she defended herself but you just gave her a look, your eyes quickly looking at her lips as you saw she did the same.

The lights had been off the entire time as it was night but as you both started leaning into each other the lights turned on, both pulling away from the brightness as a worker walked in, oblivious to the two of you.

“What’s the time?” You asked, hiding your eyes “Five in the morning!” the worker yelled out to you both as your eyes popped “I’m on a plane in two hours!”

Jessie watched as you panicked, quickly jumping out of the spa and grabbing two towels for you both “here” she threw it to you and you wrapped yourself before quickly turning to the girl “I’m sorry”

And you left.

Jessie was sitting in Christines kitchen playing with a bowl of cereal after her flight.

“So you met a girl, flirted with her and didn’t kiss her” Christine listed as Jessie groaned “well technically I tried but we were interrupted” she said and Janine laughed “you shoul’ve seen it she was so into her it was insane”

“It wasn’t that obvious”

“We had a bet going on, her workmates were in on it!”

Christine furrowed her brows …workmates?

“What was her name?” Christine asked but her doorbell rang, Christine going up to answer as she knew someone was coming “wait my neighbours getting her cat”

“I was wondering where this cutie came from” Janine cooed, scratching the cats head.

You were at the end of the door waiting for Christine to open the door, if there was anything that could make you feel any better right now was your cat.

“Hey y/n!” Christine cheered opening the door before two heads peeked through

“Y/n?”

“Jessie?”

“Oh I forgot to mention she was Christines neighbour”

And that’s how you met your future wife.

#woso #woso soccer #woso x reader #woso community #jessie fleming #jflem #baby with jessie #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #canada women #sam kerr #janine beckie

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wileys-russo · 10 months ago

Note

KCC, “Will you carry me to bed?”, at home ❤️

couch nap II k.cooney-cross

"ky are you sure? you hate watching stuff like this." you chuckled as your girlfriend returned, dumping a bowl of popcorn in your lap with a block of chocolate held securely in hand.

"maybe, but i love you. and they make you happy and you had a shit day, and if you're happy i'm happy because i don't want you to have a shit day." kyra explained as you melted, leaning up to kiss her and melting into her side.

"but can we not watch one about the ocean please? i'd still like to go swimming when we go home without worrying about whats underneath me." your girlfriend quickly added on as you flicked through the documentaries.

"and here i was about to click into mysteries of the deep!" you teased, choosing one about africa and accepting the piece of chocolate offered to you from kyra's fingers. "i'm aware only 5% of the ocean has been discovered but i don't need to know anything about that 5%." your girlfriend shook her head stubbornly.

"oh elephants! mad." kyra perked up a little as the documentary started making you smile and kiss her cheek appreciatively. "see? they're not so bad." you promised, shoveling a handful of popcorn into your mouth.

"can we start narrating training like this? oo we could make vlogs for my close friends story!" kyra suggested excitedly around an hour later, the next episode starting.

"the allusive snakehipped wally lurks close to the corner of the pitch, watching with beaded eyes as the younger, better looking, wildly successful kyra cooney cross sprints across the midfield. is it pride in her eyes? or a bitter jealousy she's been surpassed by her protege." kyra mocked in her best david attenborough voice making you laugh.

"i'm so telling her you said that." you teased, moving the now empty popcorn bowl off your lap as your girlfriend stretched out, her head dropping onto your thighs instead.

"no don't! she promised to teach me how to rainbow flick on monday." kyra pouted up at you with a whine and her best puppy dog eyes. "shut up and watch the monkeys cooney-cross." you tutted, squishing her cheeks in your hands and nodding to the screen.

"ky, baby go to bed. i'll be up after this episode, your necks gonna get sore." you warned gently another couple of hours later and shaking her softly, your girlfriend now sprawled out in a strange curled up position in the corner of the sofa.

"no m'fine." kyra mumbled, forcing her eyes open again and shuffling around so she was sitting up a little more as you looked on amused. "ky, go to bed." you laugh, kicking her gently as she shook her head stubbornly, gesturing for you to watch the screen again.

you rolled your eyes knowing this was a bad idea but not bothered to fight her on it, glancing over a few minutes later to see she was once again dead asleep.

the episode finishing you left your girlfriend on the lounge as you washed up your bowls, flicking off all the lights and locking up before returning, chuckling at her very awkward position.

"hey, ky." you squatted down and shook her again, poking her cheeks as she groaned tiredly and swatted your hands away. "come on, time for bed." you smiled, tugging on her hoodie as she sighed deeply.

"will you carry me to bed?" the midfielder asked quietly, opening her arms as her eyes stayed shut. "babe you're like a foot taller than me." you laughed softly, shaking her again as she whined. "i've done it for you so many times, its your turn." kyra mumbled.

"fine, but you need to help me out here and sit up a little baby." you shook your head with a smile, grabbing her hands and tugging her into a sitting position. "okay." you nodded determined, wrapping her arms around you and grabbing under her thighs.

trying to lift her you grunted, your girlfriend purposefully rag dolling to make it harder for you as you finally picked her up but stumbled sending the two of you crashing back to the sofa.

"kyra!" you groaned, smacking her leg as her body vibrated with laughter. "you're making it harder on purpose." you huffed glaring down at her, cheeky grin plastered on her face despite the obvious exhaustion in her eyes.

"piggyback?" kyra tried again this time her smile more charming as you let out a deep and exaggerated groan. "get on then, but carefully!" you warned, standing to your feet and bracing as your girlfriend climbed onto your back.

"this is so romantic." kyra sighed, patting your chest as her chin rested on your shoulder, letting out a yell as you reached the bedroom and dumped her on the bed.

"don't get used to it, i'm the one who gets the princess treatment in this relationship cooney-cross."

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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sweetbans29 · 3 months ago

Text

Flight - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You hate flying (based on THIS request)

Warnings: Soft CC, also kinda sorta cliche

Word Count: 2.9k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Our girls smile is everything.

Since meeting Caitlin, she has gotten you to do a lot of things that were out of your comfort zone. Most of the time it was willing. It was only on a select few times that it was unwilling. This was one of them.

Your leg is going a mile a minute bouncing up and down, as you wait for what is going to be the last few hours of you on earth.

"Calm down," Caitlin says as she hits your leg. Your leg tapping doesn't waiver as you just stare at your best friend.

Leading up to this moment has been you trying everything in your power to get out of this trip. The only issue with that was there is only one person on this planet that was more persistent than you and that was Caitlin. That is how you ended up waiting to board a plane to Cancun.

In your mind, you were still trying to find a way out. It didn't matter than you were already at the airport or through TSA, you had not gotten on the plane therefore could still go home. Forget the fact that Caitlin paid for literally everything on this trip to get you to go, including first class seats. Forget the fact that half of her team was already there awaiting your arrival. Forget the fact that you would literally have to fight her to leave the airport any other way than on the plane heading to Cancun.

The wait was even longer as Caitlin is always one of the last to board to avoid slowing down the boarding process.

When one of the flight attendants comes in to the lounge to get the two of you, you don't move an inch. Caitlin stands and slings her backpack and begins walking out when she sees aren't by her. She turns around and sees you sitting still.

"I'm not going," you say, not looking at her in the eye.

"Come on," Caitlin says ignoring your statement.

"I can't," you say.

Caitlin circles back, trying with every fiber in her being to not be annoyed with you. She got you this far, she is getting you on this plane.

"You can and you will," Caitlin says while grabbing your bag and waiting for you to get up.

You look up at her and she sees the pure fear in your eyes - she immediately softens. She puts the bags down and crouches in front of you, almost as if you were a child.

"You can do this," she says softly.

Caitlin knew exactly how much to push you, she knew what you could and couldn't take. It came with the 10 year friendship that the two of you held. This though, she knew this would be borderline.

"I can't," you say as your leg finally stops tapping. "I'm sorry."

Your eyes fall to the floor and Caitlin pulls your arm to stand up. You feel defeated. There was no real reason you should be this afraid of flying considering nor you or anyone you know has ever gotten in a plane accident. You fear came from a stupid documentary of a plane crash that happened in the late 50's that wasn't found until decades later.

Caitlin pulls you into a hug and you sigh into her shoulder.

"I will be right next to you the whole time okay?" Caitlin says and you give a small nod. She quickly grabs the two of your bags and grabs your hand. Partly for comfort, partly to make sure you don't run away from her.

The two of you board the plane. You initially sitting next to the window but then have Caitlin sit next to the window so you could be in the aisle. You then remember that if you hit any turbulence and there are carts in the aisle, they could hit you so you have Caitlin sit in the aisle seat while you take the window. After switching 2 more times you finally settle in the window seat.

"Thank you for not getting annoyed with the switching," you say as you buckle your seatbelt and make sure you are securely strapped in. You tighten it more than you should and Caitlin notices. She leans over and unbuckles your seatbelt. You are about to say something but she shushes you and loosens your seatbelt to it is not cutting off your circulation but still tight.

"You made it on, I am proud of you," she says as she removes her hand from your lap and sits back to look at you.

The captain tells the flight attendants to take then seats for take off and your eyes shut. You grip the armrests and try to control your breathing. Your nails are digging into the leather of the seat when you feel a force trying to get you to release it.

Caitlin takes your hand in hers and you bring to grip the life out of it.

"Dang, you might break my hand," Caitlin jokes. She tries to get you out of your head but it doesn't work.

"Should have just let me gripped the armrest," you say. Your eyes are still tightly shut but you can feel Caitlin sigh.

Caitlin begins to use her free hand to rub up and down your forearm, hoping it will calm your nerves. You would do that for her whenever she was nervous and it always worked.

You finally begin to ease on Caitlin's hand but then the plane begins to speed up. Your grip tightens again as you mutter affirmations to yourself. You feel Caitlin's fingers run along your forearm and you have to tell yourself to not break her hand which takes your mind off the fact that you are about to go 10000 feet up in the air.

Once the plane comes to consistent speed and altitude, people start moving around. Your hand stays firmly planted in Caitlin's, not that it bothers her at all.

The thing is, yes, you and Caitlin have been friends for a decade at this point and Caitlin would be lying if she said that she wasn't in love with you. She would be lying if she were to say she hadn't been in love with you for the past 10 years but that didn't matter because she has never had the courage to say anything. She has been there with you through so many things that your friendship became more valuable than her feelings.

"C?" You ask, pulling Caitlin out from her thoughts.

"Hmmm," she hums as she looks at you.

"I need to pee," you say and Caitlin can see you are scared to get up.

She unbuckles her seatbelt, her hand never leaving yours as she does. She looks at you waiting for you to undo yours and you do extremely slowly. Caitlin stands and guides you to the restroom.

"You are going to have to let go of my hand," Cait says with a small smile. You nod but don't let it go immediately. You stand in the doorway as you take several deep breaths before finally releasing her hand.

"I will be right here," she says as you close the door. You are back out in record time and slam the door open causing Caitlin to laugh. Your hands were still wet and there was a slight panic on your face.

Caitlin laughs at you and you shoot her a glare. The two of you head back to your seats and you let Caitlin do your seatbelt again.

"Want to watch a movie?" Caitlin asks and you nod. She puts on a movie and you lean your head on her shoulder. She sighs and offers her hand for you to hold. You take it but instead of intertwining your fingers with hers, you take her hand in both of yours and begin to play with her fingers.

Caitlin can feel her heart flutter and butterflies soar in her stomach. She was wrapped completely around your finger and you had absolutely no idea.

A ding sounds in the cabin and the captain tells the cabin that they would be experiencing some turbulence and asks the flight attendants to sit down again.

Your heart rate picks up.

You try to keep your focus on the movie but it seems to be a challenge as the plane begins to shake. You sit straight up and and your hands grip the arm rests. Caitlin tries to pry your hand off the armrest again but you don't budge this time.

The turbulence picks up and the bumps and drops grow. Caitlin can tell you are in a full blown panic and she feels helpless. It is when the turbulence gets really bad that she realizes you might have a heart attack.

At this point, it is the worst turbulence that Caitlin has been in. There are others in the plane who are screaming when a drop comes and you can all hear the luggage move around.

"We are going to die," you say on repeat and Caitlin is saying your name, trying to get you out of your own mind. You don't hear her.

"We are going to die. We are going to die. We are going to die," you say.

Before you know it, you feel yourself being pulled out of your chant to Caitlin's hands on your face. You don't have enough time to think before you feel Caitlin's lips on yours.

The second you feel her lips, you relax into her. Your hands release the armrests as they come up to hold your wrists. Her lips move slowly against yours and you feel her smile into you. You move your lips and realize how perfectly the two of you move together. It is the first time since leaving the house that morning that you have felt peace.

She begins to part from you and you immediately pull her back in. The two of you get lost in each other that you don't realize the turbulence calm until the captain comes back onto the speaker letting everyone know they would be landing soon.

You finally let Caitlin part from you and her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen.

The two of you just look at each other and smile. Caitlin dips her head and hides it in your shoulder.

"You should have just done that from the start," you joke.

She groans into you. There are so many thoughts going through Caitlin's head she as she has just revealed the one secret she had been keeping from you for so long. It doesn't help that if you didn't feel the same way the two of you were stuck together for the next week as you are rooming together in Cancun.

Meanwhile, there is one thought going through your head and you make it know.

"About damn time," you say and Caitlin's head shoots up to look at you.

Her eyes meet yours and you smile at her. She squints at you.

"What do you mean, 'about damn time'?" Caitlin asks.

"Caitlin, I have known you for too long," you say and Caitlin starts to piece it together. "I know your are in love with me."

Caitlin looks at you with wide eyes as she feels a blush wash over her face. She opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out. There have only been a few times when you left Caitlin speechless.

"Caitlin, have you ever slowed down to think about if the feelings were reciprocated?" You ask with a little laugh. "Think back."

Caitlin sits there, thinking back on all the years of your friendship. You hand comes to play with one of hers again.

"High school graduation, we were invited to Maggie's graduation bash which was going to be the biggest party of the year but your parents made you stay home to hang out with family - who stayed with you?" You ask.

"Well you were by best friend," Caitlin says remembering the night. You laugh as Caitlin's eyebrows began to furrow.

"Ever wonder why in college I wouldn't go on more than 2 dates with someone?" You ask. You would go on a max of two dates before realizing they weren't Caitlin.

Caitlin remembers waiting up for you to come back and tell her all about the dates, waiting for you to say why you weren't interested in them. She would hold her breath until you would tell her it wasn't going to work out with whoever it was.

Caitlin smiles.

"Or what about when I helped you when you were dying of food poisoning and..." you begin but Caitlin stops you not wanting to relive that ungodly time.

"Okay okay, you don't need to bring that up," Caitlin says meeting your gaze.

"Not only have I known, but I have reciprocated your feelings for quite awhile now," you say.

"Why haven't you said anything?" She asks.

"I didn't want to rush you," you say shyly.

"Rush me? It's been ten years," Cait practically yells.

You laugh at her being too distracted in the conversation to realize the plane was landing. You only realize when the wheels of the plane hit the ground and you look out to see you were back on solid ground.

"So what does this mean?" Caitlin asks.

"Nothing," you say and Caitlin is confused.

"Nothing?" She says immediately feeling defeated.

"Well nothing since you haven't asked me out yet," you say and Caitlin's defeat is immediately washed away.

"So that is all I have to do? Is ask you out?" Cait asks. You shrug.

"Okay, will you go out with me?" Caitlin asks.

"No," you say as you stand to de-board the plane.

"No? You just said all I have to do is ask," Cait says as the two of you walk off.

"That was lame C, if I were to ask you like that would you have said yes?" You ask.

"Yes! I would have said yes because I have been waiting for this for so long," she says in shock. You laugh.

"It's not funny," she says with a little pout.

You look around and see a hallway, you grab her hand pull her to it. Once you are out of public eye, you capture her between you and the wall and she looks at you in surprise.

"See if I were to ask you, I would ask you like this," you say. Your hand comes to cup her face.

"Caitlin Elizabeth Clark," you say, swiping your thumb across her cheek. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

Caitlin melts. She is a puddle in front of you. She has been dreaming of this moment for as long as she can remember.

You look at her expecting an answer. Caitlin clears her throat.

"Yes, Absolutely yes," she says with a smile.

"Too bad that was only an example," you say stepping away from her, leaving her speechless yet again.

Before you can get too from her, she grabs your hand pulling you back, now capturing you between her and the wall. You are now the speechless one.

"See if we were in high school or even college, I would ask like you just did. But since we are adults now, this is how it is going to go," Caitlin says looking in your eyes. You can't look away from her eyes.

"You are mine, end of story," Caitlin says as your eyebrow quirks. "You are mine and I am yours and I will be taking you out on our official first date while we are here in Cancun."

Caitlin has a sense of pride that creeps onto her face. You love confident Caitlin.

"Okay Clark, deal," you say and she rolls her eyes.

"You know I hate it when you call me that," she says and you laugh. The two of you leave the hallway hand in hand.

"I don't get why, everyone else calls you that," you say.

"You aren't everyone else," Caitlin mutters.

"Okay C, I won't call you Clark anymore," you say.

The two of you walk hand in hand out of the airport. When you get to the airbnb that everyone was staying at everyone can instantly see a change in the two of you. Caitlin takes your hand in hers and it causes a whole commotion.

"Aliyah you owe me $20!" Nalyssa yells running to find Aliyah.

Both you and Caitlin look after her confused. Katie Lou comes up.

"Nalyssa bet Aliyah that Caitlin getting you on the plane here would reveal her feelings for you," Katie Lou says and Caitlin blushes.

"You guys bet on us?" You say. "On if we would would hook up?"

"Not hook up, but finally admit feelings," Lexie says.

Lexie hands Katie Lou a $10 bill. and you raise your eyebrow at them.

"I thought it would happen on the trip but Katie Lou thought it would happen on the plane ride since you were so scared of flying." Lexie says.

"You are all unbelievable," Caitlin says hiding her face in your shoulder.

"That's cute" you said. "Should have brought me in on the action."

Caitlin's head shoots up as she slaps your shoulder.

"I can't believe you," she says to you.

The three of you laugh at Caitlin but you pull her in for a hug.

"I'm just messing with you," you say. "Let's go see out room."

Caitlin nods as she begins dragging you in a direction away from Lexie and Katie Lou. You wave to Caitlin's teammates as Caitlin is eager to have all of your attention back on her.

AN: I would really like to play with Caitlin's hands - as innocently as possible. Let me know what you think about this one! And as always, thank you for your love and support

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark concepts #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark masterlist #caitlin clark x reader

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reidmania · 3 months ago

Text

in between | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot masterlist.

part one, part two, part three

summary; after being together for two months, you and spencer had yet to go further than making out, until now.

warnings; 18+ mdni, soft dom spencer, no actual sex. fingering, slightly inexperienced reader, a tiny bit more experienced spencer, mentions of bad sexual relations in the past, references longer hair on reader

an; i suck at writing smut so i refuse to be held responsible for this cause ik i asked but u guys really gave me no choice ‘100% for yes part 3 should have smut’ MY ASS. y’all hate me and want me to die.

‘She toes the line between 'em, he says he's new at this, there's holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss. He hates it when she's crying, he hates when she's away, even at their worst, they know they'll still be okay.’

In the two months that you and Spencer had been together you had seen him four times. Which was a disgustingly low amount, you both hated it — That wasn’t a question, but with him working so much and you living in a different state, you both did your best.

You saw him on weekends when you could, when he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes he would take a day trip to see you, just to get coffee or go to the library together. He never didn’t make an effort, anytime you two could see each other, you did.

Like now, Spencer knew it was almost silly to celebrate two months together in an extravagant way, but it gave him the perfect excuse to see you — Not that he needed one, but he wasn’t gonna waste it either way.

He had made it very clear to Hotch that if a case came up, or if anyone from the team called him — He wouldn’t be answering, after the two of you had been interrupted one time you came to stay at his place, he got a call about a case, by the time he got home you had already left due to the time of your flight.

He refused to have that happen again, not this time.

You had got to the airport maybe an hour ago, he was there to meet you just like every other time. Now, you were sitting on his sofa, legs crossed as you rested your head on his shoulder, some documentary playing on the tv. A lot of the time you spent together was like this — just enjoying one another’s presence while you had it.

Spencer arm was over your shoulder, his fingertips drawing soft shapes on your arms which left goosebumps in their trail, their movements never faltered.

“Hey” He said gently, as if not wanting to break the comfortable silence that surrounded the two of you. You turned your head, still rested on his shoulder but now looking up at him.

“Hello” You said back, the same soft tone, the corner of your lips tugged upwards into a smile. Your eyes held his gaze, your stomach full of something so familiar. Something you felt every time he was around you— Anytime you heard his voice. Comfort, warmth, safety. All of the same sort.

He smiled back, then as if he couldn’t help it his head lent down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, only causing your smile to widen. He pulled away to reposition slightly so he could look at your face better. “I wanna take you out” He said gently.

You hummed, eyebrow raising a little in curiosity. It wasn’t that you and Spencer didn’t go on dates, you did. Bookstore, library, cafe, flower shop, bakery’s. All the soft romantic things you both adored to do together, although by the way he spoke you assumed he had something different in mind.

“Do you?” You teased lightly.

He nodded, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, your cheeks flushed at the motion. He did that a lot, the small soft kisses as if it was just habit. You adored those.

“I do. Tonight, is that okay with you?”

He asked, and you smiled.

A soft nod came, before you were speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t have anything nice to wear” You mumbled gently. You packed everything comfortable, you had nice things, but not like extremely nice, nothing fancy.

He shook his head gently, free arm that wasn’t wrapped around your shoulder coming up to brush gentle hairs away from your forehead. “Thats okay, We can get you something, or we can go in pyjamas, make a statement” He mumbled out, a playful smile on his lips as his forehead bumped yours gently.

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. The same playful smile on your lips mirroring his. Your forehead came to nudge his back. “Mm, don’t hate me” You hummed, smiling gently. His head tilted in curiosity of what you were going to say.

“I didn’t pack pyjamas.” You admitted, the last few times you had been here you ended up wearing one of Spencer’s shirts to bed anyways, so you ultimately decided this time there was no point even bringing your own.

He smiled, knowingly, understanding why you didn’t, but then he huffed out playfully, tsking gently as he shook his head. “You had one job, one. job.” He mumbled, faux disappointment lacing his tone only making your smile widen.

“Whoops?” You suggested, shrugging your shoulders.

He let out a snort at your half assed fake guilt, his hands came down to grip your waist, his fingers digging into the sides of your skin making you squeal gently and squirm under his touch. Your hands came down to grip his wrists, trying to tug them away from your side.

After a moment, he gave in, letting you push his hands away, to which you instead interlaced your fingers, holding them up in front of you. “I hate when you do that” You huffed out. You did partly, but not enough to actually be upset about it.

He raised his eyebrow, squeezing your hand gently. “Do you now?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, nodding. He knew it, you knew he did because you told him every-time he did it. For some reason he just enjoyed making you squirm, watching you get frustrated for a total of three seconds before it all turned playful again.

“You know I do” You muttered. You turned slightly so you were facing him, your gaze held his and any doubt you could possibly have washed away just by the look of love and admiration in his eyes.

“Okay, I wont do it again” He said softly, his hands pulled away from yours to instead gently cradle your jaw in his hands, leaning down to place another gentle kiss on your lips.

You knew he would do it again, and you were okay with that.

Spencer realised he had made a mistake. A big mistake.

Buying you a dress, wasn’t the mistake but thinking his thoughts would stay innocent when seeing you in it was. He had let you pick out whatever dress you wanted, insisting on paying for it, he let it remain a surprise. Keeping his gaze away as you used his card to pay for it until it was hidden away in a bag.

Now, seeing you standing in his bathroom, the dress on, your hair falling perfectly to frame your face and your smile. He was having a hard time focusing. He leant against the door frame as he watched you fix your hair.

He wondered if it was possible for you to be any more perfect.

Then you made eye contact with him in the mirror and raised your hand to wave gently, and he decided it was.

The entire night was perfect, any time with you was, but tonight it was exactly what he wanted it to be. The place the two of you went to was fancy but not extreme, the two of you ate and joked throughout the entire time and Spencer knew he was in love with you.

He had always known that, but the words begged to leave his lips more then ever when you were sitting in the passenger seat in his car, using a plastic water bottle as a microphone as you sung out the song playing on the radio as he drove the two of you back to his place.

At a red light, he turned to look at you. You were busy peeling off the wrapper around the water bottle to notice, a small thing that made his heart warm. His gaze dropped down to your thigh, one his hands moving to rest on top of it, then his eyes were stuck on the way it had ridden up your thigh as you were sitting and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

His hand rested against your thigh innocently, although his thumb moved to tuck under the hem of your dress slightly, rubbing the skin there soothingly. Your eyes moved from the bottle to his hand, then to his face.

He had turned back to the road now, when the light had gone green, he could see you looking at him in his peripheral. He was trying to remain calm but he felt as if the car temperature increase massively in seconds.

“You’re pretty” You mumbled out and he knew he was done.

His gaze flicked from the road to your face. A smile on his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wondered if maybe he should pull over because he was struggling to pull his eyes away from your face.

“You’re pretty.” He said back, his gaze flicking back to the road as he turned down the street his house was on, thankful in a few seconds he would no longer have to worry about crashing the car because he was too focused on you.

You hummed, scrunching up your nose slightly at his compliment. He was pulling into his driveway and you were turning your body to face him in the passenger seat. “Im serious. You are really pretty.”

He smiled as he put the car in park, he undid his seatbelt before mirroring your actions turning to face you. “Im serious too. You are also really pretty.” He said in the same tone as you, before he was leaning in to press his lips against yours. His hand left your thigh to instead rest against your jaw, fingertips curling into your hair.

You hummed into the kiss, your hands coming to either side of his neck. Your heart burst at the feeling of his lips warm and gentle against yours the feeling of his cool hands pressing against your warm cheeks.

Your hand left his neck in order to undo your seatbelt, and reposition slightly so you could lean in closer while still not breaking the kiss. One of his hands trailed from your jaw to the back of your head, cradling it as his fingers tangled in your hair, encouraging you closer to him.

After a moment, his lips pulled away from yours but he stayed close, hands remaining in place and his forehead rested against yours as he spoke almost breathlessly, in a way that made your heart beat quicken. “We- We should go inside.” He said.

You nodded, “We should.” You said in the same breathless tone. He stayed in place for a moment just looking into your eyes before he nodded again, pulling back in order to open the car door.

Then he was out, walking around to open the door for you. You smiled as you took his hand, he closed the door once you were out and his hands then moved to your waist, staying close behind you as the two of you walked to the door.

He huffed out when he had to pull his hand away in order to pull his keys out of his pocket, his chest pressed against your back as he leant in to unlock the door after fumbling to find the right key for a moment. His hand moved to press against your stomach as he did so, holding you close against him.

When you were inside he loosened his grip slightly, walking to the kitchen he freed his pockets of his wallet and phone, and keys, he left them all on the kitchen counter before his eyes looked back at you.

You were wandering towards his bedroom, he smiled at the sight before he was following you. He walked fast in order to catch up, hands gripping your hips making you jump in shock, you turned your head to look at him.

“That was mean- Don’t do that” You huffed out, he grinned, his hand moving from your hip to the side of your cheek in order to turn your face more towards him, then he was kissing you again.

You allowed it for a moment, before your neck began to cramp at the uncomfortable positioning. You turned so you were facing him, chest pressed against his as your hands came to rest on either side of his jawline.

His hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you against him while his other hand, re-tangled in your hair. Then his feet were stumbling toward and yours back as he led you both blindly to his bedroom. His hand left your back to push the door open.

His tongue pressed against your bottom lip searching for entrance, your lips parted as his hands moved to press against the back of your thigh, your arms moved to wrap around your neck.

His lips left for a moment, but stayed close so you could feel them moving as he spoke quietly and breathlessly, “You’re so beautiful” He said as his fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, pulling you upwards so he was holding you, your legs wrapping around his torso.

You hummed and then leant back in to press your lips against his again, this time there was no build up, it was instantly more messy than it had been any other time, desperate, yet soft.

He walked to the bed, not breaking the kiss as his tongue mapped out your mouth, as if trying to memorise it. He got on his knees on the soft foam of the mattress, laying you down on your back, lips never leaving yours as his hands came to rest on either side of your head, cradling you in.

Normally, this is where the two of you would stop. Any other time he would roll off and make a comment or offer to put on a movie, read to you, make you coffee or something. Yet his lips stayed against yours as he remained on his knees in between your thighs that had remained parted once he laid you down.

His hands trailed down to your shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the strap of your dress softly so it draped down the curve of your shoulder. He pulled away, leaning back to look at your face.

His eyes trailed down every feature, the way your lips had gone slightly puffy and red from the kiss, the way your cheeks were flush, hair a mess, eyes lidded, it made his heartbeat increase.

“Is this okay?” He asked, voice quiet and husky in a way that made your stomach swell with nerves. His fingertips brushed over the empty space of your collarbone and shoulder where the strap had fallen from.

You nodded, looking up at him. He smiled gently and leant down to press a trail of gentle kiss down your jaw, then he moved down your neck, his hand moving to the other strap of your dress, pushing it down your shoulder.

“Spencer” You mumbled out, looking down at him as his kisses trailed down to your collarbone, hand coming to rest on either side of your waist. He looked up at you through his lashes and you swore your heart stopped.

He looked at you, his lips pressed against your skin, you felt his breath as he mumbled out a gentle ‘Mhm?’ In response.

You were at a loss for words honestly, eyebrows furrowed in deep focus, this was new, with Spencer it was new. You hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t gone past making out, you hadn’t even really talked about it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you did. You were just nervous.

He noticed your silence and pulled away to sit up, looking down at you. You instantly missed the feeling of his lips on your skin and the close proximity of his body against yours. His fingers ran gently down the side of your waist as his eyes stayed trained on your face, searching for what had you so choked up.

“We can stop.” He said gently, he wanted you to be comfortable and the last thing he would ever want you to do is feel pushed or pressured into doing something you didn’t want to do. You shook your head.

You didn’t want to stop, actually you really wanted to keep going.

“I still have my shoes on” You stated quietly. instead. He paused for a moment, before he let out a gentle laugh, nodding his head as he shuffled away in order to take off your shoes for you.

“You still have a lot on” He mumbled out under his breath but you caught it and it made your cheeks warm. You perched yourself up onto your elbow to watch him as he pulled your shoes off your feet, dropping them at the end of the bed before kicking off his own.

Then he was pulling his suit jacket off, and undoing the first few buttons of the white dress shirt he had been wearing before he was leaning back up to press another gentle kiss on your lips.

“You’re quiet” He said, taking note of it. You shrugged your shoulders. You were nervous, you had a lot going through your head and that mixed with his hands on your body and the sight of him made you rather nervous and a little light headed.

You looked up at him, “Is that bad?” You asked. It wasn’t that you hadn’t had sex before, you had, just not.. Good sex. It was with a guy you dated for a short while who had very little care for anything other than his own pleasure, and before that when you were freshly 18 and graduating.

Neither were very good.

He hummed, leaning up to brush hair away from your face. “You tell me, sweet girl. You okay?” He asked. He wanted you comfortable, feeling good, if you weren’t then there was no point in doing it.

You nodded again, “Im okay- Not a bad thing.” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away. He moved down to rest on his heels between your thighs.

You watched him, “Can we take this off?” He asked as his finger tips hooked under the hem of your dress. You nodded again, he smiled and lowered himself a little to press a soft kiss against your stomach over the fabric of the dress before his hands bunched the ends of it to pull it up over your stomach, then you were tugging your arms out of the straps and sitting up as Spencer pulled it off over your head.

His eyes trailed over your body and you swore the house had gotten too warm. Your head was spinning as you watched his face, his eyes as they trailed over every aspect of you.

“You’re- My gosh. You’re beautiful, you are so beautiful” He mumbled, it seemed like it was more to himself than it was to you but it made you smile and feel a little less revealed.

“My socks are still on.” You said, uncomfortably away of everything touching you at the moment, the way the bedsheets felt under your back, the way your undergarments sat almost uncomfortably uncovered, the only thing seemly comfortable was Spencers hands.

He was the one to nod this time, he leant down to rest on his stomach in between your thighs, pressing gentle kiss to the plush skin of your thighs as his hands rested over them, rubbing softly over the skin. “I know” He mumbled out against the skin of your thigh.

You huffed, leaning back up on your elbows in order to look at him. “Isn’t it like a thing? That people don’t have socks on during sex” You mumbled the thing you had heard around, you couldn’t pin point where you had heard it from but you knew it was talked about.

He hummed, trailing soft kisses against your thigh, hands pushing them gently more apart. “Would you like me to take them off” He asked, voice muffled against your skin, you huffed.

“I don’t know. Why haven’t you?” You asked, wondering if there was a specific reason for him removing every other aspect of your clothing, besides your underwear, and just leaving your socks on.

He hooked his finger under the hemming of your underwear, his eyes flickering away as he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for consent to take them off. You nodded gently.

He placed another kiss to your thigh before he was pulling your underwear down. “Studies have shown that wearing socks during sex can help with better orgasms. Cause of your blood circulation” He mumbled out softly as he tapped your knee, you lifted your legs up so he could pull your underwear the rest of the way off before tossing them somewhere in the room, your legs returning spread around him.

“Really?” You asked gently, voice hitching as his hand came to rest against your inner thigh, pushing it open a little more to allow him better access. He hummed and nodded.

His fingers brushed gently over where you needed him the most, his focus completely on you and making you feel good as his fingers rubbed gently over the wet folds. He relished in the way you breath hitched.

“When your feet are cold, your body signals a fight or flight response, it sends the blood to your feet rather than anywhere else. When your body is warm-” His thumb moved to rub soft circles over your clit, his eyes flicking upwards to search for your search. A soft smile on his face when he watched your lips part and your eyes flutter shut.

“When your body is warm, you are instantly more relaxed and more comfortable, your feet are always gonna get cold first, so if they are warm, chances are the rest of your body will be warm as well. Then you get more blood flow where you need it, right here” He mumbled out, one finger presses gently and slowly into you making your eyes squeeze shut and your legs threaten to close.

He let out a soft laugh, pushing your thighs to remain open. “That feel good?” He asked, almost teasing you. You opened your eyes to glare at him, making him only laugh again.

“You don’t have your socks on.” You pointed out, breath shaky as you spoke, his finger moving slowly eyes focused on your face and every little reaction.

He nodded, “I don’t think I’m gonna have any issue.” He smiled. You let out a breathy laugh and smiled back before he pressed a second finger into you.

“Y-You think I will?” You asked, voice wavering as you tried to continue the conversation but honestly your mind was fading in and out of focus as you felt yourself clench around Spencer’s fingers.

He shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss against your thigh. “No, I am pretty confident” He mumbled out, a teasing smile on his lips as his fingers curled, a soft sound leaving your lips at the feeling. He only grinned wider. “But I don’t wanna take any chances. If it helps, then it helps, if it doesn’t then it doesn’t. Just want you to feel as good as possible.” He said gently, his fingers pumping up into you.

You hummed, moving off your elbow to rest on your back. Your eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan passed through your lips when you felt his fingers curl upwards against your g spot. He realised pretty quickly and continued his movements hitting that spot.

“Are you okay?” He checked in again, as his thumb came up to nudge your clit again, his fingers still curling against you. You hummed out in response as your back lifted slightly off the bed. He let out a soft laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach.

“I was thinking about getting a cat” You huffed out. You knew it was probably the worst time to bring it up but the way your body was tensing as the knot in your stomach tightened it made you feel like you needed to relax your mind a little, and there was no better way to do that then to talk as if Spencer’s weren’t curling inside you.

He snorted as he looked up at you. “Have you now?” He understood the need to deflect. He was smart enough to know when things got intense in your body, calming your mind was helpful.

You let out a soft ‘mhm’ Followed by a small sound. “I wanna name it teddy.” You huffed out, chest rising and falling heavily as the tension in your stomach built, you could feel it in your thighs.

He smiled, “I cannot believe you are talking to me about cats when I am fingering you.” He mumbled out, his tone teasing and playful as the speed of his fingers increased.

You cringed at his words, “Thats so graphic Spence. Don’t say it like that” You huffed, squirming slightly as the pressure rose between your legs, you clenched subconsciously around Spencer’s fingers. His thumb flicked your clit gently, a playful grin on his lips as he watched you gasp.

“Sorry. How else would you like me to describe whats happening here?” He mumbled gently as he leant down to kiss your inner thigh, the pace of his fingers increasing the tighter you clenched around him, he could tell you were getting closer and he was making it his prime goal to get you there while keeping your pretty mind relaxed, even if that meant talking about cats.

You hummed, a gentle moan rolling off your lips. “Just- Don’t” You huffed, as your back arched in order to press yourself further against him. His fingers curled as your thighs got tense and begged to close, he had to hold them open.

He smiled. His focus now on making you finish. His fingers curled over your g spot repeatedly while his thumb moved against your clit, in circular motions.

“Spence.” You mumbled his name breathlessly, almost like a warning and his understood instantly, he continued his movements before he heard you moan, and then you clenched around him and gushed over his fingers.

He continued his movements a little slowly throughout your orgasm, enough to keep you going without overwhelming or overstimulating you. He pressed an abundance of gentle kisses against your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.

After a moment, his fingers pulled out of you. He kissed up your stomach. “Are you okay?” He asked again. Eyes trailing over your face, cheeks red and eyes closed, soft harsh breaths left your parted lips. You looked beautiful and Spencer wanted to tell you that a million times and more.

“Yes.” You exhaled, peeling your eyes open to look at him, “Thank you.” You mumbled, leaning up. He smiled and met you half way in order to press a gentle kiss against your lips before pulling back.

“Im gonna go get a rag okay, clean you up.” He mumbled out gently into your ear. You nodded half processing his words, your mind a bit of a mess as your focus was purely set on calming yourself down.

When you felt him leave the bed, you looked at him. “Wait.” You mumbled out, lifting yourself to sit up a little. He turned to face you, eyes trailing over your face to search for any indication that maybe something was wrong.

“Whats up sweetheart?”

You huffed out, looking up at him. There was a sort of blissed out expression on your face. “I love you” You said. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You loved him, whether he loved you back yet or not. You loved him and you wanted him to know.

His features softened, a soft smile on his lips as your words settled in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. Acutely aware of everything; yet only focused on you.

“I love you.” He replied in the same sort of tone, certain, no question about it.

You smiled, “Okay- You can go now” You mumbled, laying back in bed now allowing him to go get a cloth to clean you up, you knew you’d have to get up to pee in a minute, but you figured that could wait.

He snorted, “Thanks for your permission” He smiled, You nodded, closing your eyes as a gentle exhale left your mouth.

He loved you. You loved him, you never wanted that to change and you didn’t believe it ever could.

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w2soneshots · 8 months ago

Note

Hey there can you please do something like y/n (also a YouTuber and she’s a very nice a sweet girl )y/n and Harry r dating and living together and Harry is doing one of those videos he does with Stephen,Chris and Will and maybe it’s just like she’s kind of in the background and cute little moments of her being in the video.

Lockdown -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: none.

summary: you and Harry spend an average day in lockdown together.

notes: thank you so much for your request my love! I hope I did it justice💝🫶🏼

Liked by tobjizzle and 349,120 others

y/username: good morning🌅 @wroetoshaw

-comments-

freyanightingale: morning beautiful💞

-> y/username: 🫶

y/nfanpage21: you're both practically matching🥺

user81910592: what's Harry filming??

I've been with Harry for around a year. We got together just before January 2020, and when covid hit Harry asked if I'd move into his apartment with him. We spent all of the first lockdown together and became even closer, due to spending every day practicing trapped in his room. When September rolled around constrictions were being lifted but we were still spending a lot of time inside.

Harry, Chris, Will and Stephen have recently started doing group videos on YouTube. I've been in the background of lots of them but usually go into the living room (when Cal isn't doing something in there) and watch tv. Today they're filming "Ranking the top 10 YouTube videos of all time".

"I'm gonna start filming in a sec, are you gonna stay?" Harry asked, his keyboard clicking. "Mhm," I hummed "I'm just gonna put my AirPods in." I said. "Ok." He glanced at me with a smile. "Alright boys!" He said loudly to the computer, a few minutes later. After around ten minutes Harry said my name "y/n?" "Yea?" I said pushing myself up from the mattress to lean on my elbows. "Can you quickly react to this," he pointed to the screen "for the video?" He asked. I nodded "sure." I got up from the bed and Harry moved his chair back so I could sit on his lap. "Here." He said passing me his headset. I put it on and immediately the boys said hello.

I reacted to the video with a loud laugh as I leaned back into Harry. Then I said a quick goodbye and passed the headphones back to Harry. I sat back down on the bed while Harry finished the video, which seemed to be taking a lifetime.

Once he was finally done he plopped down on the bed. I took my earphones out and smiled at him. He smiled back "I'm gonna get in the shower, wanna join?" I raised my eyebrows then giggled "yes, yes I do." I said and we both got up off the bed. As we stepped into his bathroom we stripped our clothes off.

After we finished "showering" we dried ourselves off, got changed and headed into the kitchen to get some dinner. "You alright there Cal?" I asked the man stood looking at the oven with a confused look on his face. He looked toward both me and Harry "uh- yea, I just can't figure out how to turn this on." He said. I laughed "you've been in this apartment for over a year and you still can't turn the oven on?" "I haven't needed to use it, we've got an air fryer ya know!" He exclaimed. Harry chuckled "just press," he stepped forward to point to one of the buttons "that one mate." He said. Freezy nodded "oh, thanks."

Cal took his food to his room and me and Harry began making some simple, quick spaghetti bolognaise. "Mmm, this is just what I needed." I said taking another bite of the pasta. "Yea, this is bangin." He said with a quiet hum of satisfaction.

We cleaned up and headed back to Harry's room. We sat on the bed and Harry began scrolling through his phone while I tried to decide what movie I wanted to watch on his large tv. Harry hates anything that isn't a documentary or based on a true story, he thinks it's pointless watching fiction because you don't actually learn anything. Which I understand so usually while I watch something Harry will sit with me, but doesn't actually pay any attention.

I lay with my head leaning comfortably on Harry's chest, our legs slightly intertwined and his arm wrapped tightly around me. Just before the movie finished I drifted off into a deep sleep, lulled by the sound of Harry's heartbeat and the calming sound of his breathing.

#sidemen #fanfic #image #oneshot #w2s #harry lewis #harry w2s #w2s imagine #w2s x reader #wrotoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw oneshot #wroetoshaw #harry lewis x reader #calfreezy #instagram #lockdown #coronavirus

295 notes · View notes

madddays · 2 years ago

Text

camera shy

pairing: yoongi x reader (f) summary: after his last Oakland show, you carve out a little alone time with your husband, away from the stage lights and the cameras and the million people who always seem to be around rating/genre: explicit // fluff + smut + slice of life-ish (it’s a tour fic!) + an attempt at humour warnings: smut -- oral + fingering (f receiving), missionary, unprotected sex (they’re married it’s fine), terribly thought-out plot note: hello!!! i haven’t written anything in this format in a long time (poetry is my medium of choice) so pls be gentle!! also this is set in what is the “current timeline” but is of course fictional and i took every creative liberty i could :) also there was supposed to be a little bit at the end that i cut out bc reader was getting a little too cuckoo but that’s where the title came from and i couldn’t think of another. okay. anyway.

Being on tour is exhausting.

You’re not sure you have the right to complain – you’re not the one performing high-energy shows in sold out arenas every night. But you are lifting your share of your husband’s emotional weight as he does his solo tour. His first solo tour, as is stressed to you.

And you’re dodging cameras left and right. While it was impossible for you to stay out of the picture completely — the team at HYBE had convinced you that there was no need to hide your presence — being an idol’s wife didn’t really make you the most… sympathetic character.

So you try to keep the complaining to a minimum.

“If I have to duck out of one more cameraman’s way today…” you grumble under your breath. Sejin laughs.

“There’s only so long they can spend in your room,” he placates. “And tomorrow you’ll have use of the business centre again.”

You harrumph. Fucking businesspeople using the business centre for their business shit. Hunkering down over your laptop again, you attempt once more to read over the article you needed to finish editing tonight. You’re finally making a little headway, getting into the groove, and then —

“That’s it!” you snap in English, frantically trying to catch the open water bottle that almost spilled all over your computer. The culprit, a man looking through the lens of his giant stupid camera on his giant stupid tripod, glances at you with a bored expression.

“Whoops,” he says lightly, wheeling the contraption slightly to the left of where he’d bumped the desk. “Should probably keep that closed.”

You see red. Just as you’re about to toss this man and his equipment out the 50th story window, your husband appears.

“Jagiya,” Yoongi murmurs to you, placing a grounding hand at the side of your face. You instantly relax about fifty percent. “I’m sorry, just the rest of the afternoon.”

You look up at him, at his soft pleading face. He’s turned away from the filming crew, hiding both his expression and yours. You relax the rest of the way, resting in his palm, a little guilt creeping in.

It’s not his fault. Obviously, everything was going to be filmed — a BTS member’s first solo tour. There was going to be a documentary, and like it or not, you were going to be in it. As marginally as possible, everyone had insisted, but you couldn’t afford to look bad. Unfortunate that the filming crew was full of a bunch of dicks who didn’t give a shit about anyone who wasn’t the star. “No,” you shake your head, “I’m sorry. I know you hate this as much as I do, probably more. I’ll try to be good.”

At this, Yoongi smiles, shoulders jerking with a laugh. “I’m not asking for a miracle,” he teases. “Just a little patience.” You roll your eyes. You can behave.

Just then, the same nimrod shoots a look at you, almost goading, as Sejin picks up your laptop and its accessories so the Christopher Nolan wannabe can put some more douchebag equipment where it just was. You look Yoongi straight in the eyes, dead serious. “If that man crosses me one more time, I’m going to kill him. And I’m going to film it with his stupid fucking camera.”

--------------- xxx ---------------

Most people expect you to be ecstatic about the proximity to free tickets that being married to Yoongi brings. And you love watching him perform. Up on the stage, in his element. He’s never more radiant than when he’s singing and rapping, leaning in close to the edge of the stage so he can look into the fans’ eyes — gloss, a fitting name for the shining star you see giving his all.

And the confidence is incredibly sexy. So you have a competency kink, sue you.

But god is it tiring being there. Even in the nosebleeds, or in the VIP box. You can’t exactly abandon Yoongi afterwards, so you have to make your way discreetly backstage with the security team, and then you wait through the undressing and the debriefing and the security checks and the filming. Sometimes the media circus. Only then can you sneak into a car with him and head back to the hotel.

So you stay behind tonight. It’s the last day of the American leg, and you’ve already seen a few spectacular shows. You have your own life, your own responsibilities. Which includes deadlines.

You were able to come with Yoongi for this leg of the tour because you’d promised your boss an exclusive — first dibs on Agust D’s experience touring in the U.S. While you wouldn’t be allowed to take part in the spread (a very clear conflict of interest, no bueno) you’re excited for it. The potential of the photoshoot alone is making your head spin.

But part of the deal was also to keep working. The list of articles your Senior Editor ass has to go over is slowly dwindling, this feature on Korea’s impact on global fashion getting to the finish line.

“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the now blessedly empty hotel room. Email with the finished article sent, you roll your chair to look straight into the little camera that’s trained on the desk Yoongi’s claimed and flip it the bird.

Job done and borderline invasive filming (it’s only on when Yoongi decides to get some working shots for them, but still) disrespected, there’s not much left to do but wait.

When the third time cycling through all your social media apps doesn’t provide any groundbreaking entertainment, you decide to call down to reception for some reading material. It’s not technically work if you’re just reading a dozen trashy ‘Who Wore It Best?’ segments. “Anne Hathaway, hwaiting!” you mutter to yourself.

--------------- xxx ---------------

A couple hours later, you’re still thoroughly immersed in your magazines and your music, completely missing the cacophony in the hallway. The knock on your door startles you so thoroughly you hit your head against the headboard.

“Unnie, are you okay?” asks Ari, one of the stylists. “I was coming to call you to eat!”

“Oh, you’re all back! One sec!” You scramble off the bed, excited to see the aftermath of the show. You barely remember to put on a pair of pants before rushing out the door, Ari’s surprised face greeting you. “Thanks, Ari-yah,” you grin, locking arms with her. “How was the show?”

“It was great! Oppa is always good, but tonight he was especially energetic.” Her face screws up a little. “He ripped another one of the jackets, though.”

An inconvenience to her, but you don’t share the irritation. Yoongi’s broad shoulders busting his clothes, yum. “Oh,” you say anyway, your sympathy unconvincing, “that’s annoying.” Ari snorts.

“Sure. At least it’s new costumes for the next leg. We’ll refit them.”

You practically vibrate with excitement at that. “I haven’t seen them yet! I’m sure you all did an awesome job!”

She blushes. “I think it’ll be good! They’re not totally finalized yet, but I’ll send you a ton of pictures.” Her eye drops in a wink, making you giggle delightedly.

Dinner is a buffet in one of the conference rooms of your beloved business centre. One of the security team members escorts you down with a group of the staff, but most people had gone down earlier, apparently very hungry. Yoongi among them. As you approach the doors, you hear someone complaining to him that they should’ve done this at a restaurant and where is his sense of celebration.

“Come on,” you hear him grumble. “It’s not like the entire tour is over. We can all go out tomorrow.”

You snort. “And then tomorrow you’ll say ‘tomorrow never comes’.” If it were happening to someone else, you’d never let them live down how quickly their husband’s head snapped towards them, but you make an exception because yours is so cute.

Despite his enthusiastic surprise, he doesn’t miss a beat. “Great, now I have to come up with a new excuse. Thanks for that,” he rolls his eyes, but immediately swaps the empty plate you grab with the one he was filling up for himself, no room to argue. Your giddy mood sours a little when you catch sight of the filming crew again.

Yoongi holds your hand over his bouncing knee and the two of you sneak food off and onto each other’s plates. The mood is bright and light, despite everyone’s obvious exhaustion (at least three people by your count are in danger of falling asleep into their food). You expect to see an extended shot of the staff and crew laughing and eating, a flushed Yoongi being plied with praise and encouragement, under some sort of pensive voiceover.

And you’re right, because right after he’s done eating they whisk Yoongi away to do what is sure to be a thorough recount of his adventure in the States. You’re a little jealous that they get to hear all about it before you do. Fuckers.

As the room starts to clear out, you bid everyone a good night and trudge back up to your room, planning to crawl into bed and wait for your husband.

But when you open the door, he’s already there. Your immediate thought is that the air conditioning is up too high for him to leave his hair damp like that. Your second thought is how pretty he looks — sharp eyes focused on his legal pad, sinful hand flying across the page trying to get down whatever lyrics are thundering through his brain, cheeks flushed and pouty mouth puckered. He must’ve gone straight from the shower to his desk.

After a few moments he must sense your eyes on him, because his writing falters and he turns to you, a soft smile breaking out across his face. Your heart flutters.

“Hey!” he says happily, pulling out his earbuds. “I was waiting for you.”

“Clearly,” you laugh, moving to perch on the table in front of him. He pulls your feet into his lap, putting his papers aside. You resist the urge to sneak a peek, instead asking “did I interrupt something?”

“No,” he assures you. “I got everything important down. You were right on time.” His fingers are drumming on your thigh like there’s still something on his mind, but you’re feeling greedy tonight, so you let it slide.

“Apparently, I was late.” His hair is cold when you ruffle it. “Let me dry your hair. You still have schedules to make it to, can’t get sick.”

Under the gentle whirr of the expensive hair dryer and your hands in his soft locks, you coax out some of the details of the night from him. Stuff those production company jerks would never get to hear, wouldn’t think to ask about. How he was so glad to never have to wear one of his costumes ever again. The way he didn’t even feel the heat of the stage lights, the thing that drenched him in sweat (aside from the jumping and running around) was nerves. You laugh when he tells you about the girl in the pit who danced so hard the veil of her wedding dress outfit ended up on one of the lights. Your heart swells, swells, swells.

There’s still a restlessness about him when you’re done. You suggest he goes back to his desk but he shakes his head. “Let’s go to bed.” The first time in ages you can do so without the weight of anticipation and stress over him – hopefully it will settle whatever is making him twitchy.

There’s a spark of arousal in your belly when you feel his eyes on your backside as you change into your pyjamas. A breath stutters out of your mouth when you meet his sleepy gaze, getting a soft smirk in response. “Come here,” he says softly. “I missed you.”

In your eagerness to get to him, you collide with the bed a little too fast. “Oof,” you huff, making him laugh. He sits up to haul you into his side, another surprised noise leaving your mouth.

“Dummy,” he teases. “Not even safe in a cushy hotel room.” You kick at his shin.

“Quit giving me bedroom eyes then.” You see his eyes sparkle and mouth start to open and smack a hand over it. “Yes, we are in a bedroom, ha ha, you are very funny.”

He moves your hand away, unimpressed. “It is a funny joke,” he grumbles. Truly funny thing is, if he’d said it, you would’ve laughed. You’re down horrendously and he knows it, although you do your best to keep his ego in check at least some of the time.

Giggling anyway, you let him press you closer to his chest. You especially love him like this, warm and soft and silly and all to yourself.

Yoongi turns over onto his good shoulder to face you, tipping your chin up. His gaze flits across your face, tender and deep, like he can see everything you’re thinking. You hope he can. You think he does. “I love you,” he murmurs, and he kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed, relishing in this closeness. The way his mouth moves over yours, slow and deliberate.

This isn’t a kiss just because, or goodnight or I’ll be right back, this is a kiss because I want to be touching you. I want to breathe you in. I want to forget everything but you.

You let out a sigh. Yoongi hums against you, a rumble you feel in his chest, and slides his tongue to meet yours. He shifts some more so he’s over you, braced on his forearm. It’s urgent now, but the way he licks into your mouth is languid, a creeping heat.

He knows just how you like it, just how to drive you wild. Where you push and pull and grasp at him, he slows you, pins you down, makes you feel every second like it’s an hour.

When he pulls away, panting slightly, you realize – it’s been a long time. The last time the two of you had had a chance to get horizontal (or otherwise) had been the week you left Korea. More than a month ago. No wonder you’re so desperate for him, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him back in, feeling his smug little grin against your mouth.

He grabs at your hip with his other hand, and just that contact, his hand deliberate against the bare skin between your shirt and pyjama shorts, is enough to have you gasping.

He pulls away again with a low chuckle. “I’ve been neglecting you, my love,” he noses against your jaw. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver.

“You’ve been such a good wife,” he continues, sitting back on his heels, raking his gaze over you. His tone is soft but his eyes are so, so hungry. You reach for him, desperate to be back under his body, but he just smiles, closed mouth and innocent. “Shh, let your husband take care of you.”

He climbs back over you, settles his weight on you like he knows you like and hovers an inch from your face. His hair, longer again, hangs in his eyes, but you can see the mischievous shine in them. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Yoongi,” you whine. His smile grows even bigger, but before you can crush your lips to his he leans down and kisses you, slow and searing again.

“I’ll make you feel good,” he promises, mouthing down your neck. You know he’s going to leave marks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s been so long since you’ve felt properly like his. “Smell so sweet,” he sighs, opening the top button of your sleep shirt and burying his face between your tits. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You moan, sensitive from his touch. “You’re –” he nips at you, drawing more breathy noises from your mouth. “You’re unusually talkative tonight.”

He smiles up at you. “You like it,” he says simply. And you do. You want him to keep telling you how you look and feel to him, what he’s going to do to you.

You start to fall apart under his mouth, his hands, his words. Soon your shirt is gone, tits shiny with his saliva. “Your fucking tongue,” you grab his hair, hold him in place, and his groan against your skin makes your sensitive nipples shoot fireworks into your brain. He presses your tits together tighter, sucking them noisily in turn as you grind up against his hardening cock.

“Taste fucking perfect,” his voice is so deep. Your pussy is already clenching, desperate for him.

Yoongi helps you out of your pyjama shorts, wanting you completely bare to him. “Need to see you, jagi.” He settles between your legs, settled over his shoulders. His warm mouth over your cunt has you spreading them wider, eager.

“That’s my girl,” he rumbles approvingly, expecting the ensuing flood from your pussy. He uses two of his long, callused fingers to spread it all over, sliding almost coincidentally over your clit. Your hips cant towards his hand, wanting more than anything to have them inside you – fuck. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Yoongi, please,” you choke. It’s getting nearly unbearable, this desperation. You’re so wet, so sensitive, your entrance clenching around nothing.

“Pretty, pretty,” he says in a soft rasp, talking to himself. He gets comfortable between your legs and you can see his sharp, dark eyes zero in on your cunt, tongue wetting his lips like someone’s set a meal in front of him. You suppose you have.

“Ahhh-hhhh,” you moan, the first broad sweep of his tongue over your folds like electricity. Like he’d just set a firecracker off inside of you – buzzing and sparking from the tips of your toes to your scalp. Eyes squeezed shut, a broken noise comes out of your mouth.

He keeps going, lapping at your pussy in an even rhythm and making low sounds of appreciation. It’s so, so wet you’re sure he must be drooling, and the thought is enough to have you clenching your legs together. “Careful, baby,” he says against your skin, but the vibrations of his voice are just fuel to the fire. “Watch me.”

You lean up shakily on your elbows, and the sight of him is nearly enough to knock you back down again. The mop of dark hair between your legs, working away as though you’re barely there, like he’s just using this to get himself off – except his eyes, watching you under the harsh slant of his eyebrows – shit shit it’s almost too much already.

“Fuck, baby, please,” you plead breathily, not even sure what you’re asking for. He’s already giving you everything you want. The close of his pouted lips around your clit has you jerking, the fiery crackle in your nerves making everything hazy except the places he’s touching you – big hands clamped around your thighs, face buried in your cunt, fingers pressed into the meat of your ass. He’d taken off the rest of his rings, but you can feel his wedding band pinching your skin slightly. Your matching one catches the light as you twist your hand into the sheets. “I need – I nee –” you break off, keening when he rubs a finger over your hole.

“Don’t worry, love,” he slides a digit in, feeling the way you clench around it desperately. “I know what my girl needs.” On the next stroke, he slides in a second finger, groaning when you clamp down on him. You collapse back onto the pillows, hips kicking up despite the way he’s pressing you into the mattress

You’d teased him mercilessly, way back when the two of you had started dating. “Tongue technology, huh? Do you have any songs where you’re not bragging about how good you eat pussy?” He’d only smiled, smug and amused, like he knew something you didn’t.

Boy, did you find out. Again, and again, and again. The way he flicks his tongue over your clit, a fast, even tempo that has you curling your toes. Combined with how fast he’s pumping those long fingers in you, the squelching sounds absolutely obscene.

“Another?” he asks, voice almost disinterested, betrayed only by how hoarse and low it’s become. You nod frantically, knowing you’re close.

When he adds his ring finger, you know you’re done for. There’s a searing heat all down your body — your belly’s tight, your feet digging into Yoongi’s back with how tightly you have them tensed. Your face is flushed and sweaty and you can barely hear your own breathy whining through the rushing in your ears. It’s building, the wet slick of his tongue joining his fingers as your legs start to tremble around him, threatening to squeeze his neck, your hands finding their way into his hair to bring him with you when your back arches off the bed, and when he sucks your clit back between his lips —

“That’s it, fuck, baby,” he growls against you. He pumps you through your orgasm, almost struggling to get deep because of the way you’re gripped tight around them. Lets the gush of come slick his tongue further, shaking his head side to side as you ride out your aftershocks. You grind against his face, stuttering as the oversensitivity kicks in, whining when it becomes too much.

“N’more,” you slur, gasping when Yoongi eases out of you. He sits back on his heels again, his mouth, nose, and chin shiny from the way you’ve drenched him.

He seems content to let it sit as he meets your eyes, popping his used fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back and groaning at the taste. “Pussy monster,” you sigh deliriously.

He laughs, having sucked his fingers clean. Pushing yourself up to lean back against the headboard, you try to get your bearings. Your legs are shaking a little and between them is still sensitive, but away from Yoongi the cold air of the hotel room makes your nipples tighten and you want more.

Your husband focuses his attention back on you. Your legs, open just enough so he can see the mess he’s made of you, and the way your skin is flushed, from your face all the way down to your chest. You shiver.

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks in a low growl. He pulls his shirt off and wipes his face with it, giving you an uninterrupted moment to ogle him. His broad shoulders, defined chest and arms, and toned stomach. The tattoo on his pec. The dusting of hair leading from his belly button down, down, down…

“Warm me up,” you say coquettishly, spreading your legs further.

“Fuck,” he whispers, reverent. Even after all these years, you have the exact same effect on him as the first time. It’s evident in the bulge in his pyjama pants that you eye hungrily. He wraps a hand around each of your ankles, pushing them up to bend your knees, crawling up so he can settle against you and lock your legs around his waist.

You let out a pathetic little sound at the feeling of him against your cunt. You’re still leaking, juices sticking to the insides of your thighs and probably leaving a patch on his pants. “Baby,” you whine. He leans down to kiss you and the grind of his cock against you has you gasping. “Need it,” you whisper into his mouth. “How do you want me?”

Yoongi kisses you one more time, chaste, and shakes his head. “How does my sweet girl want it?”

You flush even warmer. “Like this,” you say shyly. Yoongi smiles at you, fucked out and endeared.

Your hands find their way to his sweaty skin like magnets. Shaky fingertips tracing from his hips up over the flat of his stomach, hard muscles twitching as he sighs under your touch. When you reach his chest, you look up at him from under your lashes – he’s already looking back at you, pretty mouth agape. “The abs are new. I like them.” Then you scratch your blunt nails down them, feeling the muscles jump under your hands.

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning into you. You gasp at the twitch of his cock, the head rubbing your clit. “You’re in for it now.”

“Then fucking give it to me.”

He kisses you again, and he’s just so predictable. Despite his big talk and the way he’s pinning your hips down hard, he takes his time, opening you up to him. Your husband kisses like he drinks – slow and savoury, loves the taste of you, the way you make him feel dazed and light. Letting out little satisfied noises in response to the way you kiss him back, the way you let him have his way with you. If it were up to him, he’d work you up like this for hours. Drinking you in.

Unfortunately for him, you’re worked up enough. He’s grinding into you in tiny movements but the sensitivity from your prior orgasm, the insistent press of his cock between your lips, and the knowledge that you haven’t had him inside you in probably the longest stretch of time since you’d met is driving you insane.

“Take off your fucking pants, Yoongi,” you snap against his mouth, pulling at his waistband. He just laughs. “If you don’t fuck me right now –”

He keeps laughing, breathless and fond, but tips away from you enough to get his pyjama bottoms off and kicked away and hell yeah.

He runs his fingers through your folds and you gasp. Your hips cant up towards his hand but it’s gone immediately, and the sight of him jacking his cock with your wetness makes you whimper.

“So wet,” he murmurs, guiding the head to your pussy. The previous teasing mirth has vanished and there’s only the dark, focused look as he presses forward and – “Fuck.”

“Yoongi!” you cry out. His fingers hadn’t done nearly a good enough job of stretching you. The burn of him as he pushes into you makes your eyes roll back as you feel him pepper kisses over your cheek, down your neck to your collarbone. “Oh –”

“I must be out of my fucking mind,” he grunts, bottoming out. You choke on a sob. His big hand kneads your tit and it feels so fucking good you think you’re going to lose your mind. “How did I go without this for so long?”

He pulls out almost all the way then thrusts back in hard. “Y-Yoon – “ you whine breathily, barely able to make a sound at this point.

“My gorgeous wife, in this bed every night, so needy. This perfect pussy — shit.” He sucks the other nipple into his mouth, buried in you so deep you can’t think of anything but the way he’s filling you so good. The way you hadn’t realized you’d needed.

You’re blubbering at this point, beyond words, as Yoongi chases his orgasm inside you. Kissing every part of you he can reach as the sound of his skin against yours fills the room, playing with your tits the way that drives you wild. You come again with a shout, tears streaming down your face.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, kissing the tears away. He’s still going, deeper now instead of fast. “Can you give me one more, love?”

You’re dizzy with pleasure and overstimulation, but he loves to come with your pussy squeezing him. “Yeah,” you pant. A kiss, slow and deep, as he pushes back in.

Your legs are wrapped so tightly around his waist he can barely pull all the way back out. All you can do is hold on as he takes what he wants from you.

“Shit, shit,” Yoongi groans, hips stuttering. He’s close. “Love you, pretty girl, so fucking good to me,” his voice low and raspy and warm right next to your ear. “Do I make you feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to get out and you can feel his cock throb inside you, rubbing your g-spot and it’s enough. Your vision goes white and you see stars as your entire body tenses up and you tremble all over when it suddenly releases. “Yoongi!”

“Fuuuck,” he grunts. “Squeeze me just like that,” and he’s coming too.

You lay there, panting under Yoongi as he softens inside you. The sweat makes you stick together where you’re touching, and anywhere outside your bed it would make you push him away. But you’re content to lie under him, soft, laboured breaths puffing next to your ear.

“Should’ve used a condom,” you say hoarsely. There’s going to be a mess when he pulls out, you can already feel it.

“Fucking raw used to be so hot,” he sighs, kissing your cheek. “Now it’s a chore.”

Your snort turns into a gasp as he pulls out. Reaching for his discarded shirt, he cleans up as much of his come as he can. You watch him, eyes zeroed in on the mess, licking his lips.

“Reel it in.” You boop his nose and he scrunches it. “I really cannot go another round. You’re gonna have to drag me to the bathroom.”

--------------- xxx ---------------

And he kind of does. On a good day, he could definitely carry you. But after three weeks of touring and a semi-vigorous round of sex, he hitches you onto his back in some semblance of a piggyback. You actually could probably walk, but you know the mood Yoongi’s in.

He lets you pee, then comes to clean you up the rest of the way. Both of you wrapped in fluffy robes, he washes the sweat and tears off your face gently, brushes through your hair with his fingers. Puts up with your halfhearted whining about expensive skincare as he pats it carefully back onto your face.

By the time you’ve dragged yourselves back to bed, the California King large enough that you don’t worry about the mess you’ve made on the other side, all the tension has drained from his body. The frantic energy of performing in a foreign country alone for the first time, melted away.

He’s soft and sleepy when he hitches your leg over his hip, pulls your head onto his chest. “Thank you,” he mumbles. You don’t have to ask him what he means.

You laugh softly. “Silly,” you say, drifting off.

#yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #min yoongi imagine

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sportswriters · 6 months ago

Text

you're jealous? - p. gavi

pairing: pablo gavi x female!reader | f | established relationship | wc: 1.646 | warnings: none

welcome post! “get out, pedri.”

you hear your boyfriend’s laughter echoing from the driver’s seat, pedri looks at you with a frown, but opens the front door and finally gets out. he stares at you and rolls his eyes, but even though he’s annoyed that you kicked him out of the front seat next to gavi, he kisses you cheek affectionately.

“i got here first, you know?” he complains.

you shrug, return the kiss on his cheek and get into the seat he was sitting in before, careful not to wrinkle your loose dress. it took you a while to find the right outfit and you were still a little unsure about the event. gavi is dressed in a black suit, similar to pedri’s, his hair messy, exuding the perfume you know so well.

“would you throw anyone out or is it just because it’s pedri?” your boyfriend asks.

you put on your seatbelt and lean in close enough to steal a kiss from his lips.

“it’s just because it’s pedri,” you reply, mocking.

pedri protests behind you and nips you right in the ear. you glare at him, but turn to your boyfriend in the driver’s seat. when he starts the car again, you grimace and turn to pedri.

“his he driving better than last time?”

pedri laughs.

“what was the last time?”

“oh, you know,” you moisten your lips and move a shoulder. “when he almost ran over that fan at the entrance to the stadium?”

“that was two days ago, y/n,” pedri says with a laugh.

“so the answer is no?” you whine.

“hey!” your boyfriend protests, leaving one hand on the wheel, his attention on the road and using his free hand to squeeze your thigh. “i’m listening, you know?”

you smile and squeeze his hand on your thigh, while he returns concentrating on driving and the three of you start chatting about random things — it distracts you from the nervousness of attending the event. it wasn’t anything too important, just a social thing to promote a new documentary the team has been making for the launch and all the players, their respective girlfriends and family members would be there, as well as the media outside.

nobody apart from the team and the people closest to you knew that you were gavi’s girlfriend. media exposure has always been a fear, mainly because gavi has a lot of young fans and the risk of receiving hate was huge enough for you to have agreed not to make the relationship public yet, coupled with the fact that gavi likes to keep his personal life private, despite his fame.

you were friends before everything. people still think so, although there are rumors. after gavi’s injury, the two of you became even closer and ended up confessing your feelings to each and two weeks later, he asked you to be his girlfriend.

he parks the car and three of you get out, while he hands the key to the valet. as soon as you get in, there’s a carpet that imitates a red entrance and you walk past it, quickly posing for photos and the entering the venue.

“i’m going to find the guys,” pedri announces. “i’m not really into third wheeling.”

gavi laughs, but you roll your eyes and watch the midfielder walk away to join the boys from the team. it’s a nice atmosphere, there’s soft music playing and lots of familiar people, but you feel tense. gavi notices and moves closer, placing his hand lightly on the base of your waist and you immediately feel your muscles relax. it's amazing how he had a calming effect on you.

“are you okay?” he asks you.

you take a deep breath and turn your face just enough towards him, opening a smile to soothe the wrinkle of worry that has appeared on his forehead.

“i’m fine, i promise.”

he looks at you for a moment, but you don’t want to talk about your insecurities, so you take the lead before he asks anything else.

“shall we say hello to the guys?”

he nods, leaving the subject for later. his hand is still on your waist the two of you walk through the hall, greeting acquaintances. you keep a genuine smile on your lips, acting sincere in your friendly conversations and enjoy gavi’s comments in your ear. he had a unique talent for making you feel relaxed in front of everyone like that and you heart leapt for him.

at some point, you were stopped by two girls — who looked to be about your age, both with big smiles on their faces — but you didn't know them. they must have been someone's daughters or something.

“i'm sorry to bother you,” one of them says, the one with the blonde hair, looking directly at gavi, as if you didn't even exist, even though his hand keeps holding you by the waist. “but we're both really big fans of yours, gavi. could you take a picture with us?”

you don't mind him giving attention to his fans. in fact, you make a point of putting him at ease by doing this.

“of course,” gavi replies.

the girls join in and he just moves away enough to fit through the screen of their camera, his hand still on your waist. you tried to move away, giving them space, but gavi insisted on not letting you get away from him.

“thank you, it looks amazing!” the second one says, with black hair.

“it's true, you look hot!” the blonde adds.

the sound of their laughter reaches your ears and you start to feel ridiculous for being annoyed. they're just some fans meeting an idol, their behavior tends to be a bit unusual and you try to take it in your stride.

“didn't you say he was your type, sash?” the black-haired girl asks with an annoying chuckle.

you purse your lips and force a smile onto your face, but none of them pay any attention to you. gavi doesn't say anything, he's just nice enough to remain with a polite smile on his face. you stare at him for a moment.

“broke!” the one called sash complains, but laughs and turns to gavi. “sorry about that. but you're single, right? i'd love to give you my number.”

that’s the last straw for you. jealousy starts to eat you up inside and gavi isn't saying anything, so you lock your jaw and walk away from him, feeling the need to look for a drink, anything. you leave him alone there, with the two of them boldly hitting on him, and you were right next to him. he had his hand around your waist! of course he's not single.

you snort and walk over to the bar, ordering a glass of champagne, something light. you didn't notice the moment gavi came up behind you until he appeared at your side with a confused expression.

“what was that, y/n?” he asks, confused by your sudden behavior.

you stare at him.

“what do you think that was?” you snap, a little annoyed, but he doesn't seem to understand. “you had your hand around my waist and they had the audacity to ask if you were single?!”

his expression softens and he smiles. gavi touches your arm.

“you’re jealous?” he asks, but you don't answer and turn your face to accept the glass of champagne the barman hands you. “come on, you can't make a big deal out of it.”

you take a sip of the drink and narrow your eyes in his direction, wondering if he really meant what he just said. yes, you're seething with jealousy, of course. you wouldn't react any differently to two women hitting on your boyfriend like that and you wouldn't make a scene. not in front of everyone.

so what if they don't know he's dating, since you haven't published anything? his hand on your waist should be enough of a sign that at least he was accompanied.

“really?” you squeak, one eyebrow raised. “so i can let pedri hold me the same way, since it's no big deal?”

he grimace and you know he didn't like it.

“i didn't mean it like that,” he defends himself, grumpily.

you smile, victorious.

“next time, use your voice to communicate that you're no longer single,” you warn, taking another sip.

he comes closer and puts his hand on your waist again, he kisses your exposed shoulder and you sigh at the contact.

“i think it's time to make our relationship public to avoid this kind of situation, then,” he proposes.

you stare at him, wondering if he's serious.

“are you sure?”

he lifts his face towards you and smiles, his face too close to yours. you don't even care if you're in a public place anymore.

“we'll only do this if it doesn't make you uncomfortable," he says. “but yes, i'm sure. it's time to show them that i'm yours.”

your heart races and you turn to him, happiness showing on your face. you may deal with insecurities, you may receive hate messages, but it's all worth it with him by your side. you wrap both hands around his neck.

“i love you.”

gavi smiles and kisses your lips quickly, taking the suggestion of making your relationship public as a positive response. he’ll make sure of doing this when you leave the event.

“i love you, y/n,” he declares. “but i hope that was the last time you used pedri as an example to touch you like that.”

he grimaces again and you laugh, shaking your head. the next thing you do is seal your lips to his once more, oblivious to any public gaze that might be directed at you, because there's nothing you want more at the moment than to let people know that he is yours.

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagines #pablo gavi scenarios #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi angst #football scenarios #football imagines #barcelona imagines #football drabbles #football blurbs #sportswriters ❤

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

The Curveball Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: After weeks of asking Molly to confide in him, Bob does something impulsive. And when Molly finally opens up about what's on her mind, Bob doesn't respond exactly how she expected him to.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swears, pregnancy, mention of abortion, 18+

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob took a little detour on his way home from work on Monday. He was so in love with Molly, and she just didn't seem happy. She hadn't even texted him all day. He was afraid to initiate a message to her in case she was getting caught up on sleep, so she was either so exhausted that there was clearly a problem, or she was mad at him.

He wasn't happy that one of those things was probably true. But he stopped and picked up five dozen bouquets of gas station flowers and a bag of gummy bears. He watched her eat them on top of an ice cream sundae once, and it made him cringe. But he knew she'd like them.

When he finally got home, he paused just outside their front door. Bob knew she was home; he'd seen her car in the parking lot. He needed to calm himself down before he went inside, because at the moment, he felt ready to beg her not to leave him. And he couldn't do that yet.

As he unlocked the door and eased it open, he called out, "Mo?"

A few seconds later, her soft voice replied, "In the living room." He found her on the couch, all wrapped up in one of his oversized sweatshirts even though it was summertime. The sadness in her eyes momentarily faded away as she looked at all of the flowers in his hands. Molly's lips parted, and she gasped softly, making Bob's heart pound.

"Hey, Honey," he whispered, and then she was swiping tears from her eyes as she stood and threw herself at him. The five bouquets and the gummy bears ended up on the floor at their feet, but it didn't matter. She was in his arms. She was kissing him. He was in love.

"Bobby," she whispered, swallowing hard as she cried in his arms.

"Tell me what's wrong, Mo," he pleaded. "Just tell me."

She took a shaky breath and said, "Nothing's wrong right now. I just need you to hold me."

"I'll hold you. I love you." He never fully released her from his arms as he peeled his uniform shirt off and let it fall next to the flowers. Then he kicked off his shoes and led her to the couch, grabbing the gummy bears on the way. As he stretched out and pulled her down gently on top of him, she let her cheek rest against his chest. It was very obvious she'd been crying, but instead of asking about that, he asked if she wanted to watch a murder documentary with him.

"Yes, please," she whispered, and he pulled the blanket down over them as he turned the TV on. He fed her gummy bears one at a time and stroked the soft skin of her neck, his full attention on her instead of the show. Soon she was sound asleep, and Bob moved incrementally until he was able to stand with her in his arms, and he carried her to bed.

A little while later, after he put all the flowers in water and got himself something to eat, he made his way to bed as well. When slid underneath the covers behind Molly, she turned to snuggle against him and whispered, "I love you."

--------------------------

Molly was surprised she'd been able to hold it together at home, but work was a different story. The antiseptic smells of the emergency room kept setting off her stomach, and she was running out of ideas for places to vomit discreetly.

The one positive thing she had going for her was that the asshole doctor that she hated was being promoted. She would soon be seeing far less of him. But there was still the glaring fact that she was pregnant. And she couldn't decide what to do about it.

She should have told Bob by now. She knew that. But she just couldn't bring herself to destroy her relationship with the most perfect man on the planet. He loved her. He loved everything about her. Including the fact that he thought she was on birth control that worked. She had in fact assured him that she was on birth control and that he had nothing to worry about.

The mere idea of her as a mom was laughable. She'd seen her sister do it, and while Everett was the sweetest child in the universe, she knew she probably wasn't cut out for parenting. It looked way too hard. Especially for a single mom. She didn't know if she'd have any sort of maternal instinct. Watching Ev was different, because she wasn't really the one making decisions on his behalf.

It was probably better just to go through with an abortion and never mention this to anyone. But every time she thought about it, the guilt crept in. Did Bob have the right to know? She couldn't decide. It was her body, not his. But what if he actually wanted to have a child with her? What if he would stay and help her? Actually want to be involved?

All she seemed to be able to do every night now was curl up on Bob's chest and try not to cry too much as she fell asleep. Last night they had sex, and she turned the lights off just because she just knew she was going to cry. But he'd been gentle with her, made love to her. As if he knew something was still wrong even though he couldn't figure out exactly what.

Molly threw up in a plastic bag three times on her way home from work as she double checked her math. She had to be between six and seven weeks along. When she called her gynecologist, they gave her an appointment for two weeks from today. And she had stopped taking her birth control pills. But she was very tempted to just visit a clinic and call it a day.

Tomorrow she was supposed to meet her sister to help her pick out a wedding dress. She could get through the weekend. She could go to the clinic on Monday. That would give her a few days to work up the nerve.

When she walked inside, Bob was already home and wearing jeans and a nice shirt. Molly's eyes went wide as she looked at him, but he was already shaking his head.

"We don't have to go to the Hard Deck, Honey. We can stay in."

"I forgot," she whispered. Truly, she'd been unable to think about anything except the fact that she was pregnant. She looked up at Bob as he approached her. She was pregnant with his child. Somehow this information washed through her as if for the first time. She and Bob did this together. "I'm really tired."

"Let's stay in then," he whispered, kissing her forehead as she melted against him. His big hands and his sweet voice were all over her as he pulled her toward the living room. "You want one of the murder shows? Or a shower? Or just bed?"

Molly knew he'd do whatever she wanted, and she nearly told him right then what exactly was wrong with her. But she just whispered, "Bed."

He took her by the hand, and she let him take care of everything.

---------------------------

Bob went out to breakfast with Bradley and Ev the next morning while Molly met her sister to look at wedding dresses. He was trying to stay in the moment, trying to enjoy spending time with them. He'd indulged in the idea that Everett might be his nephew someday. He'd let his mind wander to the very amusing idea that Bradley and he could be brothers-in-law. But at the moment, it hurt a bit to think about it. He told Bradley that Molly still seemed upset.

"What makes you say that?" Bradley asked cautiously, glancing at Everett playing a game on his phone.

"She's been acting strange for the past few weeks. I can't get her to talk to me." Bob felt helpless as he said, "I just want to make her happy, but I don't think I actually know how. She's gotta be planning to move out."

Bradley shook his head. "No. It has to be something else? Work?"

Bob just shrugged. "I wish I knew." He reached for his wallet to pay, but Bradley beat him to it.

"It's my turn," he insisted. "I think you should head home and talk to Molly now. I bet they're done shopping and getting margaritas or whatever they're doing."

"Mimosas," Bob whispered. "Molly likes mimosas."

"Right," Bradley agreed. "Let's just skip the batting cages, and you can get home and talk to her since I'm sure they must be done with mimosas."

Bob just nodded and barely managed to say goodbye as he walked back to his truck. He paused in front of a vintage clothing shop window, looking inside without really seeing anything at first. Then a jewelry case caught his eye, so he ducked inside.

"What can I help you find?" asked the young woman who worked there.

"That's pretty," he said as casually as he could, pointing out a gold ring with a cluster of diamonds arranged to look like a flower. It reminded him so much of Molly's tattoos that his heart ached for her.

He thought about leaving and going home to wait for her, but then the woman asked, "Oh, that one's beautiful. Fifteen diamonds. It's been appraised. Do you want to know the price?"

But Bob shook his head and just said, "I'll take it."

He sat in his truck with the pretty ring in his palm, watching the sunlight catching on the diamonds. It was too perfect to leave it inside the shop when it looked like it had been made for Molly. But he couldn't give it to her now, not when she still seemed unhappy.

He tucked it away in the glovebox for some point in the future. Because first, he needed to get her to talk to him. No matter what it took, he'd find a way to get her to open up. He'd find a way to make her happy again. Because now he knew that he could.

------------------------------

Molly was so tired, she felt like she'd been hit by Bob's truck. Every time she tried to walk into the dress shop where she could see her sister looking at the ugliest dresses, she had to double back to her car to throw up again. She was almost twenty minutes late as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand and walked inside.

She knew she looked bad. The only thing she wanted to wear was one of Bob's extremely soft undershirts and some old yoga pants. But the response from her sister was even worse than she thought it would be. "There you are. "What's wrong? You look terrible."

"Nothing," she insisted. "Did you pick one out yet?" Her voice sounded lifeless to her own ears.

"No, I was waiting for you. I can't do this kind of thing without you."

Molly's heart ached a little more as she sighed. She walked around and snatched up the prettiest dresses that she could see her sister wearing when she married Bradley. "Try those on. I'll be in one of the chairs."

Molly watched her sister eye her suspiciously before turning toward the fitting rooms. She tried to be as encouraging as possible about the dresses, tried to say all the right things, but apparently she was transparent.

"Molly, please. Talk to me," her sister begged, and then she was wiping a tear from Molly's cheek. She wasn't even aware she was crying again, but she jumped up out of the chair, and then the tears came faster.

As Molly took off toward the back corner of the store, she started sobbing. When she couldn't go any further, she spun around. "I fucked up," she gasped. "I fucked up so bad."

"Molly," her sister gasped, reaching for her. Molly was in her arms immediately, trying not to cry on the wedding dress she was still wearing. "It's okay to talk to me about it."

But Molly was crying too hard to talk. Fat, hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and she started shaking. She could feel her sister rubbing soft, soothing circles against her back before she took Molly's face in her hands and waited.

"I'm pregnant."

She gaped at Molly before asking, "What did Bob say when you told him? He's upset?" She looked so concerned and seemed unsure about what she should do to help Molly feel better.

"I haven't told him," Molly whispered as she was pulled into another hug.

"Molly. How long have you known?"

"About a week," she gasped, tucking her face against the softness of the only person who really cared about her since their parents died. The only person until she had Bob. "I suspected it before that at least. I didn't think it was actually possible at first." She was hiccupping between words. "I just thought my cycle was off. But then I took a test the other day. And then I took a lot more tests."

"Molly, were you using birth control?"

"Of course!" she wailed. "I'm not stupid! I work in healthcare!"

"I know, I know," she soothed, rubbing Molly's back. "I was just checking."

"But I switched from one pill to a different one," Molly whispered. "I did everything I was supposed to fucking do! How could I have let this happen?"

"Shh," her sister whispered. She was sobbing again. "Does Bob not want to have kids with you?"

Molly pulled away from her and threw her hands up in the air. "How the hell am I supposed to even know that?!" she asked, loud and sarcastic. "I've only known him for like four and a half months! We have never, not even once, never talked about having kids together! I know he likes them. He loves Ev and Piper, but that's different."

"Molly, you have to tell him."

"No," she said vehemently. "No way. I'm so mad at myself. I don't want him to look at me differently now. I told him I was on birth control. I promised him there was nothing to worry about." Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. "I can't tell him. But he knows something's wrong. He thinks I'm going to leave him, and honestly, maybe I should."

"Don't say that," she whispered, scowling at Molly. "Don't say that about Bob."

"Exactly!" Molly raged, because now she was getting to the root of things. "That's exactly it! You don't even worry about me anymore, because I'm with Bob! I finally got my shit together. I'm finally dating a good guy. A stable one who actually loves me! He loves me! Or he did. I can't believe I fucked this up. It was perfect!"

She knew she shouldn't have said it, but it was too late. Instead of feeling like a real adult now, she felt like a child. Molly sank to the floor at her sister's feet and cried, burying her face in Bob's undershirt. And then a sales clerk came over just as her sister tried to sit down with her.

"Excuse me, but you can't just crawl around the floor in one of our dresses. And you shouldn't be crying near them either."

Molly glared up at her, silently daring her to say one more sentence. "Fuck off, lady. Your goddamn dress will be just fine, okay?"

The woman bustled away as Molly turned to her sister. Her voice was calmer as she said, "I'm not going to tell him. I'm going to pretend to go away for a couple days, get an abortion, and then never mention any of this again."

"Molly. You can't. That's not fair to Bob. You need to tell him about this." And now Molly was afraid she was about to make her sister cry as well, but she couldn't help it.

"So I can end up like you?" Molly asked, making her favorite person in the world freeze in place. "No, I know, and I'm sorry, but there's not always going to be a Bradley waiting at the end of the tunnel, okay? You got lucky. Everett is the perfect kid. And somehow you upgraded from Danny to something much better. But I'll never get this lucky again. I'll never, ever find something better than Bob. And I don't even know if I can be a mom. Because I've seen you do it, and it's actually fucking impossible, okay?" She was now crying and laying on the floor, inhaling the scent of Bob's undershirt. "It's either leave Bob or get an abortion and never tell him. And I know I can't bring myself to leave him."

Molly excused herself and got to her feet, swaying a bit as she headed for the exit. Once she was outside, she threw up on the sidewalk.

----------------------------

Bob was waiting at home, sitting on the couch and looking at all the things Molly had added to his bookshelves since she moved in. There were so many photos of her with Everett, and a handful where her sister was in the photo, too. He reached over and grabbed one of Molly from seven years ago holding newborn Everett in the hospital. That was the brightest smile he'd ever seen on her face, and he was so happy someone had captured it.

When the front door opened, Bob jumped to his feet. As happy as Molly looked in the photo he was holding, right now she looked downright miserable. He set the frame aside and went to her, knowing this conversation needed to happen.

Bob gently wrapped his hands around her biceps and pulled her close. "Molly," he said as firmly as he could when she was looking up at him with watery eyes. "Something is wrong. You've been miserable for weeks, Honey. You need to talk to me. I need you to talk to me!"

She started shaking, and Bob's eyes went wide, an apology already forming on his lips. But then she whispered, "I don't want to tell you."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She let him take his time as he gathered his thoughts into the words that would hurt him the least to say out loud. His voice was a little ragged as he met her eyes and managed to say, "If you're unhappy here with me, I won't blame you for leaving. If there's someone else, just tell me. I'll never blame you, Molly." He nodded against the thick lump in his throat, his vision a little blurry now.

But she burst into loud sobs in front of him and shook her head as she cried. "That's not it, Bobby. That's not it at all."

He held his hands out helplessly at his sides, and she slipped her arms around his waist. When she buried her face against his chest, he let his hands come to rest on her back. On his undershirt that she was wearing. "Just tell me, Mo. I'm begging you to tell me."

"I love you," she said, looking up at him as tears trickled down her pretty cheeks. "I love you too much to tie you down. I swear, Bob...I didn't do it on purpose."

He was so confused, he felt like crying, too. "Molly," he whispered, taking her face gently in his hands and wiping at her tears. "I don't know what you're talking about. What didn't you do on purpose?"

She sucked in a sharp breath and said, "I'm pregnant."

"Oh." That tiny word escaped him before he could really sort it all out. Pregnant. She was pregnant. Surely she hadn't been beating herself up for weeks over this? She was pregnant. If Molly was pregnant, then that meant he was responsible for making it happen. He got Molly pregnant. His hands fell away from her face just as he realized he'd taken too long to respond.

"I know I promised you I was on birth control," she said, taking short ragged breaths. "I switched pills, and...something happened. And maybe we should have used condoms for a few weeks, but this really shouldn't have happened! I'm so sorry!"

When she closed her eyes again, body wracking sobs took over, and she looked like she was going to pass out.

Bob wrapped his arms around her, and she tried to push him away, but he wouldn't let her. "Shh," he whispered next to her ear. "Molly, take deep breaths, okay? Deep, slow breaths, Honey."

As she started to get control of her breathing, Bob wondered how far along she was. Would she start showing soon? How was she going to be able to work in the emergency room with a pregnant belly? Would they let her take time off? Would he need to sell this condo and get them a bigger place?

The ring. The pretty ring was in his truck. If Molly was pregnant, maybe Bob wasn't the reason she'd been so unhappy. Maybe she was just anxious about how he'd respond. He kissed the top of her head as she wiped her eyes on him, and he told her, "I love you, Molly." He'd give her the ring today, pull a full Bradshaw on the situation.

She whispered, "I know we've only been together for a few months. If you can't trust me after this, I completely understand. And if you don't want me anymore... I guess I can understand that, too."

Now Bob felt like he might pass out. How could he not want her? Not want them? He was holding onto her, trying to speak. But once again he was taking too much time!

"Listen, if you don't want to be involved, that's fine," she whispered, not quite meeting his eyes now. "I'm... thinking about having an abortion on Monday. There's a walk-in clinic near work. And if you want me to leave...I can move out."

He needed to speak instead of thinking things through. "I want you," he swore. "I'm never not going to want you."

"Bob," she said, face crumbling again.

"Molly, please don't leave. Don't leave me." He could feel his heart breaking. She was talking about moving out. About having an abortion. "Please." The last thing he wanted was to live without her.

"You'll still want me? Even if I terminate the pregnancy?" she asked, laying it all out for him.

"Yes. But Molly...I would love to have a baby with you."

"Really?" she asked, seemingly surprised. "Because I don't know if I'm ready for that," she added so softly as more tears dripped down her cheeks.

He kissed the tracks of her tears and whispered that he loved her until she stopped crying. "I want you. And I want a baby," he told her, tipping her face up so she was looking him in the eye. "I would love that. But I don't need it. What I do need is for you to stay with me, Mo."

She searched his face, and Bob had never felt so vulnerable before. He'd never felt so much love before. Just as he went to gently rest his hands on Molly's belly, she shoved him violently away from her.

"Fuck," she gasped, nearly tripping over he own feet as she tried to get away from him and run down the hallway. And then he heard her vomiting into the toilet.

-------------------------

Molly let her cheek rest against the cool tile of the bathroom floor. Her eyes were closed, but she knew Bob was there as well now. She wasn't exactly sure how she was still throwing up. She'd barely been eating. Even though she was starving, nothing would stay down. And she started to wonder why she hadn't gone to the clinic already. Why was she suffering through morning sickness if she was going to terminate the pregnancy?

When she rolled onto her stomach and tried to stand, Bob's strong hands were there, guiding her steadily upward. She felt pathetic as she looked up at him. He was perfect, and she was wrung out on the bathroom floor. He was everything, and she was just his careless girlfriend who couldn't do anything right.

"Let's go get in bed," he whispered, and she nodded as he led her out of the bathroom. He looked so sad. She wanted to ask him why he was sad. She was the one who was sad. She was the one who had to make a decision and live with it. But right now, the only thing she could do was let Bob guide her into bed.

"I'm so fucking tired," she said, letting her head come to rest on the pillow. "I feel awful all the time."

Bob reached out and ran his knuckles along her neck, making her eyes flutter closed. "Get some rest, Mo."

She cracked her eyes open and reached for him. "I want you to stay here," she whispered, and then he was in bed with her, and she was falling asleep on his shoulder.

When Molly jolted awake, the room was getting dark. She was laying on Bob's chest, and he had one arm around her as he held his phone in the other. "Are you okay?" he asked, those greenish blue eyes focused right on her. When she nodded, he kissed her forehead.

"How long did I sleep?"

"Four hours," he replied softly.

"Four hours? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You needed sleep, Honey. You still need a good night of it, so I'm going to feed you and help you shower, and then I'll bring you right back here."

She swallowed back a sob, mouth dry and stomach growling. "I can't eat," she said with a little laugh. "I keep asking myself why I'm still suffering through all of this if I don't even want to be pregnant."

Bob was quiet for a beat. "Are you absolutely certain you don't want to.... keep it?"

As she studied his handsome features, she slowly shook her head. "The only thing I'm certain about is that I couldn't force myself to leave you."

He sighed and wrapped her up in a tight hug. "Stay. Stay forever. We can make it forever. You know that, right?"

Forever. What a concept. Impossible. But a lifetime? That was real. "Bob... how do I know you won't leave?" But as soon as she said the words, she realized how foolish she sounded, because she knew, she just knew he wouldn't.

"Molly, I can't show you my heart. I can only describe it," he said softly as she buried her face against him. "I feel so much love for you. I've been running ragged in my mind, trying to figure out why you were so unhappy. I just want you to be happy. And it's from my heart that I can promise I'm not going anywhere. And it's from my heart that I am telling you that if you think you might want to keep our baby, then I am one hundred percent onboard. I'm ready. I don't need to think about it. I decided about thirty seconds after you said you were pregnant that I want to do everything with you, including raise a child. If you let me."

And now she was crying again. Because this was the reason she'd put off making a decision. She wanted so badly to hear him say these words. She thought she could do it if she didn't have to do it alone. She knew she wasn't as strong as her sister, but she also knew that Bob was her ideal. He was nothing like Danny.

Molly eased herself up and guided one leg over Bob's waist. He was looking up at her with a soft, sincere gaze, but he looked so nervous, like he was waiting for her verdict. When his hands came to rest hesitantly on her thighs, she bit her lip to try to stop her tears. She was so tired of crying. All she wanted was for Bob to make her something to eat so she could go back to sleep.

She smiled softly, because she knew what to say now. "Bob, I'm really fucking scared. But if you still want to be in a relationship with me...if you want to do this together...then I'll keep the baby."

To her surprise, Bob pulled his hands away from her thighs as he started crying. He pushed his glasses up to his forehead and pressed his fingertips to his eyes. "I just need a minute," he whispered, his voice unsteady. Molly watched him cry as he gently shook beneath her. But a moment later, he was sitting up and she was straddling his thighs as he pulled her close and kissed her. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere. We're having a baby."

She laughed as he kissed her lips softly. "I love you, too, Coach Cute Glasses." She giggled as she imagined a tiny, cute Baby who looked like Bob with a pair of wire frame glasses. And Bob was smiling now too as she said, "Just don't do anything rash like tell me we can get married, okay? I feel like that's something you'd say."

"Oh," he said softly, pulling her a little closer as his smile faded a bit. "Okay. I won't."

She kissed his neck and inhaled his scent. "If I ever decide I want to get married, I'll let you know," she told him as her stomach growled.

"Let me feed you," he said, helping her out of bed. "Let me take care of everything right now."

Molly decided to let him.

---------------------------------

Bobby about to get everything? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 9

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