#and no television. white living room

[scarlettecosplay]

Living Room - Enclosed

[arcadianflowers]

Paris Home Bar

[elise-rosy-unicorn]

Living Room in London

[queercecil]

Living Room in Los Angeles

[erkiengill]

Loft-Style in New York

[happythebluecat]

Loft-Style Living Room (Denver)

[eagleflieswiththedove]

Shabby-chic Style Living Room

[chrislopezportfolio]

Living Room (Phoenix)

[tonksnymphdora]

Open Living Room

[seraphdreams]

GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

[golshiftehnews]

Living Room in Dallas Inspiration for a large, classic open-concept living room redesign with a brown floor, white walls, and a media wall.

[alicesbookshelf]

Living Room in San Francisco

Example of a mid-sized transitional formal and open concept medium tone wood floor living room design with gray walls, a standard fireplace, a brick fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[arcadianflowers]

Dallas Enclosed Living Room

[kriosgat]

Contemporary Living Room - Enclosed Image of a medium-sized, contemporary living room with a light wood floor, white walls, a metal fireplace, and a wall-mounted television.

[pedroscowgirl]

Filling the void

aaron hotchner x afab!reader

Warnings!: smut minors DNI

summary: After tucking in jack, you realised how badly you wanted a baby with Aaron

Wc: 3.7k

Heavy on the breeding kink!!, p in v (wrap it up tho), creampie, lactation kink kinda (?), dirty talk, age gap (later seasons aaron, reader is in her twenties) lmk if i forgot something!

a/n: i orginally was not planning on posting an aaron fic today but I'm ovulating rn and i just need this man to breed me. That's it. Also I can't find a gif of later seasons aaron smiling so😭

You heard the front door creak open just as you pulled Jack’s bedroom door closed behind you. The soft click of the latch was a quiet reward after successfully getting him to bed. Aaron’s return brought a wave of relief; his presence always grounded the house, making everything feel more complete. You saw him standing at the entrance, pulling off his suit jacket with practiced ease, his hair slightly mussed from a long day of work.

“Is he already asleep?” Aaron asked, glancing toward Jack’s door as he set his bag down by the entryway and hung his jacket over the back of a chair.

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Not yet. Go say goodnight before he drifts off,” you suggested, knowing Jack would want that last moment with his dad.

Aaron’s face softened at your words. He closed the distance between you and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours with a familiar, tender kiss that sent warmth spreading through your chest. “You’re the best,” he murmured against your lips before pulling away and heading down the hallway to Jack’s room.

You watched him for a moment, feeling the love and contentment settle around you like a warm blanket. This was home. Jack was tucked in, Aaron was back, and everything felt just as it should. You made your way to the living room, slipping into your comfortable loungewear. The cozy clothes were a contrast to the busy day you’d had, a signal that it was finally time to relax.

As you sank into the plush cushions of the couch, you could hear Aaron’s soft voice coming from Jack’s room. He always had that gentle, soothing tone when he talked to his son, even after the most stressful days. It was one of the many things you loved about him—the way he could switch from FBI Unit Chief to loving father in the span of a breath.

Soon, Aaron returned, the familiar creak of the floorboards under his feet signaling his approach. He had changed into his pajamas—flannel pants and a plain white T-shirt that hugged his strong frame. His hair was still slightly tousled, and there was a tired but peaceful expression on his face as he walked into the living room and sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders without a word. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.

The soft glow of the television illuminated the room, but neither of you paid much attention to it. The comfort of being near each other, after another day of navigating the complexities of life, was enough. You absently traced patterns on Aaron’s arm with your fingertips, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath his skin. His hand squeezed your shoulder gently, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.

Minutes passed like this, quiet and content, the peace between you a testament to how strong your relationship had become. It was in these small moments, tucked between the chaos of your everyday lives, that you truly felt how much you loved him. And Jack. And the life the three of you were building.

But tonight, your heart was full of more than just love for what you already had. It was full of a new kind of hope, a desire that had been quietly growing in you for some time now. You lifted your head from Aaron’s shoulder and shifted slightly, turning to face him. Then, in one fluid motion, you straddled his lap, your knees sinking into the couch on either side of his hips.

Aaron’s eyes widened, surprise flashing across his face as his hands instinctively found your waist. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What are you doing?” His voice was teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity as his eyes searched yours.

You smiled back, your fingers trailing up his chest before resting on his shoulders. “You know I really love Jack,” you whispered, leaning in close, your noses almost brushing.

Aaron’s expression softened immediately, his gaze warm as he looked up at you. “Yes, I know you do,” he said softly. “And he loves you.” His eyes searched yours, a hint of emotion flickering beneath his words. “And so do I,” he added, his voice low and sincere.

He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss, his hands sliding up from your waist to your back, pulling you closer against him. The familiar sensation of his touch sent warmth flooding through you, but tonight, your thoughts were on something more, something deeper.

As the kiss broke, you leaned in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered the words that had been on your heart for some time now. “I want a baby Aaron.”

For a moment, everything stilled. His hands froze on your back, his breath catching in his throat. You pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face, to see the way his expression shifted from surprise to something that mirrored the emotions swirling in your own chest.

“A baby?” Aaron repeated softly, as if he needed to make sure he heard you correctly.

You nodded, your fingers brushing through his dark hair. “Yes,” you said, your voice steady, but your heart racing. “I love you, Aaron. I love Jack. And I want to grow our family. I want to have a baby with you. Please make me pregnant.”

His eyes softened, but behind that softness was something else, a shadow of hesitation. He swallowed hard, his hands resting on your hips, keeping you steady in his lap. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could tell he was thinking, his mind racing through all the things he hadn’t said yet.

“I… I don’t know,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’m scared, to be honest.”

You blinked, pulling back just enough to see his face more clearly. “Scared?” you asked softly, your hands still resting on his chest. “Why?”

Aaron let out a long breath, running a hand through his tousled hair. “It’s just… with my job, everything I see, the risks I face every day… I’m not sure I can handle bringing another child into that world. Jack is already a huge part of my life, and he’s growing up. But starting over… it’s a lot. And…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering down for a moment before meeting yours again. “I’m not exactly getting any younger. I already feel old some days.”

Your heart ached a little at the vulnerability in his words. He rarely let down his guard like this, and hearing his worries laid bare reminded you just how deeply he cared about the people in his life. But you also knew that this hesitation came from a place of fear—fear of the unknown, of losing control, of risking more when he already had so much to protect.

You shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “Aaron,” you whispered, leaning in closer, your lips grazing his ear. “I get that you’re scared. I understand. But I also know you. And I know how much love you have to give. You’re an amazing father to Jack… and you’d be just as amazing with another baby.”

His grip on your hips tightened a little as your words washed over him, but you could still sense the doubt lingering in his mind.

You smiled softly, letting your fingers trace along the back of his neck. “And besides,” you added with a playful glint in your eye, “I’d look so good pregnant with your baby.”

Aaron’s eyes widened slightly as you shifted again in his lap, your body pressing more firmly against him. The playful grin on your face made heat rise in his cheeks, and you could feel the subtle reaction from his body beneath you—the growing bulge between his legs. He inhaled sharply, his hands moving to steady you, but the corner of his mouth tugged upward into a small smile despite himself.

“Hmm,” he groaned softly, leaning his head back against the couch, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “Your hormones are just talking,” he murmured, trying to play it off, but you could see the way his resolve was beginning to melt under your touch.

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the coffee table. The sudden interruption broke the moment for a split second, and you glanced down at the screen, seeing the notification flash. It was a reminder to take your birth control.

Aaron’s chuckle broke the silence. He raised an eyebrow, his hand resting on your thigh now. “Ah, look at that. It’s a sign we shouldn’t do it,” he said, half-serious but with a teasing edge to his voice.

You met his gaze and without a second thought, you tossed your phone across the room, hearing it land with a soft thud on the carpet. “Or maybe,” you whispered, leaning down so that your lips were just inches from his, “it’s a sign that I should stop taking birth control.”

Aaron’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with the weight of your words. His hands froze again on your hips, his mind clearly racing as he tried to process what you were saying. “Stop taking…?” he began, but you cut him off with a seductive smile.

“Wouldn’t it be fun?” you whispered against his lips, your voice sultry. “Just to try for a baby anytime we can. No more holding back. Just us… trying, whenever we feel like it and keeping your cum inside of me for as long as I can.”

You rolled your hips ever so slightly, feeling his reaction underneath you. Aaron groaned, his head falling back against the couch again, eyes closed as he tried to hold onto the last threads of his self-control.

“Please, Aaron,” you continued, your voice a soft plea as your lips grazed his neck. “I want this. I want you. And I know you want it too…”

His hands tightened on your waist, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts as he struggled to maintain his resolve. You could feel the conflict in him, his logical, cautious side battling with the desire you were stirring up with each movement of your body against his.

He opened his eyes, looking up at you with a mixture of hesitation and raw emotion. “This is a huge decision,” he said, his voice thick. “Are you really sure about this? About us… having a baby?”

You smiled softly, cupping his face in your hands as you leaned down to kiss him, your lips gentle but full of promise. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you whispered against his lips.

Aaron’s resolve finally broke. With a groan, he pulled you closer, his lips crashing into yours with a sudden intensity that made your heart race. His hands roamed over your back, your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The tension that had been building between you both finally released, and in that moment, you knew that he was ready-ready to take this leap with you, ready to start this new chapter of your lives.

As you straddled Aaron’s lap, the heat between you became unbearable, the tension of the moment thick in the air. His eyes, dark with desire, roamed over your body. Slowly, he lifted your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. The cool air hit your exposed chest, and immediately, your nipples hardened, betraying how sensitive you were to his touch. His gaze locked on them with raw hunger.

Without a second’s hesitation, Aaron’s mouth found your breast, his lips closing around your sensitive skin as he began to kiss and suck, his tongue flicking over your nipple in a way that made you whimper. His hand came up to cup your other breast, squeezing gently as his mouth worked its magic, driving you wild.

“Fuck, it’d be so sexy if these were full of milk,” he murmured, the sudden filthy talk catching you off guard. His voice, so deep and seductive, sent another wave of arousal straight through you. The idea of being pregnant with his baby, your body changing for him, made your heart race and your body tremble with need.

You could feel yourself growing wetter by the second, your body aching for him. “Fuck, Aaron, please,” you gasped, your voice breathy and desperate. “Just fuck me.”

He pulled back from your chest, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Oh, you’re so impatient,” he whispered, his tone laced with playful arrogance.

Unable to wait any longer, you leaned in, crashing your lips against his in a hungry kiss. As you kissed him, you ground your hips harder against his, feeling the bulge beneath you grow even more. Aaron groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tightly, but he wasn’t giving in just yet. His control, his teasing, only made you want him more.

Without warning, he grabbed your thighs and stood up from the couch, holding you against him as if you weighed nothing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, careful not to make too much noise as he carried you down the hallway toward your shared bedroom, being mindful of Jack sleeping in the next room. You could feel Aaron’s heart pounding against your chest, the heat of his body pressed so close to yours, and every step made your anticipation grow.

As soon as he pushed open the door to your bedroom, he laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes dark with need as he hovered over you. His hands moved quickly, tugging off your pants and underwear in one swift motion. You shivered at the feeling of being exposed to him, your body aching for him to touch you. He wasted no time in pulling off his own pants, revealing his already hard, leaking cock. The sight of it made your mouth water, your eyes glued to the way it pulsed, ready for you.

Aaron caught the way you were staring, and a wicked smile curved his lips. “Be patient,” he teased, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “There’s going to be a lot of this inside you soon.”

And then, without warning, he pushed himself inside you in one smooth motion. The sudden stretch made you cry out, your back arching off the bed as your fingers gripped the bedsheets tightly. He filled you completely, his cock so thick and hard inside you that it made your entire body shudder.

Aaron groaned as he bottomed out, his head falling to your shoulder as he took a moment to savour the feeling of being inside you. “God, you feel so good,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.

He started to move, slow at first, each thrust deep and purposeful, hitting all the right spots inside you. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out, the delicious friction driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your body responded to his every movement, your hips rising to meet his as you moaned his name, lost in the feeling of him inside you.

There were kisses, soft and sweet, shared between moans and gasps for air. His lips found yours, then your neck, then your chest again, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed your body, fingers exploring every inch of skin he could reach, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Just when you felt yourself on the brink of release, Aaron pulled out, leaving you gasping from the sudden emptiness. You whimpered in protest, your body aching for him to fill you again, but he wasn’t done yet.

He grabbed your legs, lifting them and placing them over his shoulders, angling your hips just right. When he thrust back inside you, the new position made him hit deeper, harder, a spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving red marks as you clung to him, your moans filling the room.

Aaron’s head fell back, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the sensation of being buried so deep inside you. You could feel him twitching, the tension building in his body, and you knew he was close. “Please,” you moaned, your voice shaky with need. “Please make me pregnant, Daddy. Just use me whenever you want.”

Your words sent him over the edge. His hips snapped forward, his thrusts becoming erratic, harder, faster. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “I’m going to get you pregnant. Everyone will know that you begged for my cum and that I gave it to you.”

With one final, deep thrust, you both came together, your body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your entire body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Aaron followed right after, groaning deeply as he emptied himself inside you, filling you with his release. You could feel him pulsing, twitching inside you as he rode out his orgasm, his hips still moving as he pushed himself deeper.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies still locked together.

As the waves of pleasure finally began to subside, you collapsed onto the bed beside Aaron, your breathing still heavy, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to his side, and you nestled into his warmth, feeling the afterglow of everything that had just happened between you.

Your head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as you both slowly came down from the high. The room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing and the occasional rustling of the sheets as you shifted to get comfortable.

You let out a soft chuckle, still catching your breath. “I guess I’ll have to throw my birth control away,” you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest.

Aaron’s deep laugh rumbled through him, the sound making you smile. “Yeah, you should do that,” he replied, his voice still husky from everything you’d shared.

You grinned, but as the moment settled around you, the weight of what you were discussing—the enormity of the decision—began to creep into your mind. You lifted your head slightly, looking up at him. The soft light in the room highlighted the contours of his face, the small lines around his eyes that came from years of both stress and joy, and the way his lips curved into that subtle smile he reserved just for you.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice a little more serious now, “are you really sure about this, Aaron? I mean, I don’t want to pressure you or anything. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.” You paused, your heart racing a little, unsure of what he might say next. The desire for a baby was real, but so was the reality of what it would mean for both of you.

Aaron turned his head slightly, his eyes soft as they met yours. He reached up, gently cupping your cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing across your skin in a tender, reassuring gesture.

“Sweetheart,” he began, his voice steady and filled with that signature calmness that always made you feel safe, “I’m an old man. I’ve been around long enough to know what I want, and I can make my own decisions.” He gave you a teasing smile, but there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “And I want this with you. I’m not going to lie—it’s a big deal, and I’ve thought about it. But seeing you with Jack, seeing how much you love him… I know you’ll be an amazing mom. And I want to share that with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest as you held his gaze. You leaned into his touch, feeling the truth in everything he was saying. He wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear; he truly meant it.

“And,” he added, his voice dropping into that playful, husky tone again, “I really love the process of making the baby.”

You laughed softly, the tension in the air dissolving as his teasing words brought a smile to your lips. “Oh, I can tell,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly.

Aaron kissed you back, his lips slow and gentle against yours, the tenderness of the moment wrapping around both of you like a warm blanket. When you pulled away, you could still feel the smile lingering on his lips.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words slipping out naturally, effortlessly. They felt like the most honest thing you’d ever said.

“I love you, too,” Aaron whispered back, his voice filled with the weight of all the unspoken promises between you.

You both shifted under the covers, settling into each other’s arms as the exhaustion from the night finally caught up with you. His hand rested on your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your skin as you drifted closer to sleep. The soft rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a comfortable, peaceful state, and the warmth of his body next to yours made you feel like you were exactly where you belonged.

Just before sleep claimed you, you felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll figure this out together,” he whispered, his words barely audible but full of meaning.

You smiled against his chest, your heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. And as you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. The possibilities felt endless, and with Aaron beside you, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it with love, strength, and the kind of partnership that only deepened with time.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch

[seattlesellie]

ೀ spoiled. ( part one )

📞🕯️🎀 ₊˚⊹♡ “ baby , can you call me back ? i miss you … it’s so lonely in my mansion … “ 🧸🪽🍬

pairing: ellie williams x rich fem!reader

synopsis: the mansion you live in is getting too cold , the silence is way too silent , and not even reruns of sex & the city can help … long story short , you’re feeling lonely . wonder if you can think of someone in your contacts that can help and warm you up , a certain classmate perhaps ?

warnings: girly reader , kind of desperate loser ellie , bratty spoiled rich reader so don't read if that annoys you , allusion to smut , actual smut will be in the second chapter , this is dirty so mdni as usual !

an: i wrote this such a long time ago and it wasn't supposed to be two parts but well now it is !! i will start writing the second part if u guys want to so don't be shy in my inbox. not proofread unfortunately ♡

A perfectly manicured hand rests on the fluffy white and silky smooth duvet. the Egyptian cotton, to be exact, is nothing but lavish, a sanctuary of indulgence in the realm of your own private luxury. Then, you tap your nails atop it, and the fabric crinkles. You gently sigh, but it's more so a grumble, and reach over for the ‘Dunkin’ cup standing on your wooden bedside table. It perfectly matches every single one of the furniture in your extravaganza of a walk in closet, and the bed-frame as well. You take a slow, indulgent sip out of the icy cold drink, take an ice cube out with a straw, and gently suckle on it. You place the drink back on the table, shifting your gaze back over to the flat screen television.

Carrie forgave Mr. Big again, and now she’s seen frantically pacing around the streets of New York City in her shiny Manolo Blahniks. You arch your brows, humming in high pitched amusement. you have the exact same pair!

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda always seem to bring you a sense of comfort. Usually, your bed brings you a sense of comfort as well, and so does an icy drink with specifically eight cubes of ice. Your room smells like French vanilla, a tinge of cinnamon, and the sweetest pie you’ve never learned how to bake. Most of the time, you’d bask in the scent and feel nice, and cosy, and your nose would scrunch and your nostrils would flare out, then you’d open your favorite food delivery app and order a nice ol’ package of nine chocolate chip cookies. Then, you’d pop open a bottle of champagne and indulge yourself in the sweets deliciousness.

But your appetite is less existent than snow in the middle of August.

You’re also freezing cold, fuzzy socks and all — goosebumps rising on your skin and feeling sharp like Japanese knives.

Your best friend of a white home cat, Toodle, elegantly extends his supple frame, his lithe form gracefully ascending to nestle within the cradle of your neck. His bell gently dingles, he yawns and mellifluously meows. Right now, it sounds more like an old mans groan.

“I know, Toots… m’bored too. And cold, Jesus…” you mutter towards Toodles, who, in his usual aloof manner, closes his eyes and surrenders to the soothing hum of his purring. You puff some air out of your mouth, brain wheels turning as to find out what’s the cause of this blue mood. The air conditioning is completely turned off, you’re sure of it, and the fireplace crackles with warmth. Your entire moisturized body is covered up by a ridiculously expensive thick blanket, and it’s not the short VS nightie that makes you feel freezing, you’re convinced of that. For some reason, the frosty sensation persists. You smack your lip-glossed lips before bumping your head against your mountain of pillows, emitting a low grunt of exasperation.

You don’t know the reason for your boredom, or for this bum mood, because albeit you’ve seen this episode about a gazillion times, it never fails to entertain the shit out of your brain.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re entirely alone (except for Toddles, of course, can't forget him) in a 10,000 square feet mansion. or perhaps it’s because the only lit room inside the mansion is your own.

But then you roll your eyes, because your parents are always away (at St. Tropez this time), so feeling alone isn’t a new and strange concept.

Alas, being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.

Your face twists at the depressing thought, ew. You’re not lonely, just… bored, and unamused, and the icy drink isn’t sweet enough and Carrie’s getting on your last nerve, and the 1,000 dollar blanket is starting to itch the hell out of your hyper-sensitive skin.

Which is why you get up from the bed in a moment of eureka, landing your feet against the fuzzy carpet and slide them into your Ugg’s. “Uh huh!” you chirp, you finally got it.

You’re experiencing an old friend of a feeling called (drumroll…) — anxiety, over your unfinished chem project! It must have masked itself in the form of frigidness and discomfort and loneliness.

But the project isn’t even due till next week, and you rarely get stressed over college stuff unless they’re due the next day and you’re sitting, staring down at your laptop screen, trying to communicate with it through telepathy or something of that sort.

Somaybeit’snotanxiety and maybeyou’rejustloney.

You shake away that uneasy and irritating thought, and sit your pretty butt down on the rolling chair. You click your shiny glittery pen (that always sheds some glitter onto your hand) and open up the thick as brick textbook.

You read the first question out loud.

The correct formula for aluminum nitrate is…

Valentino’s Lòco Toile Iconographe shoulder bag in hot pink?

Nope.

You shake your head, you have got to focus. You place your chin atop your palm and click the pen once more.

Al(NO2)3? or maybe it’s Al(NO3)3…

or maybe you’re so far off you need to close the book shut and throw it out of the window. You’ve always sucked at chemistry.

Which is why you were assigned to be tutored by that auburn haired, green eyed, slightly sullen, tatted up girl who went by "Ellie" — or "El", but you didn't know her like that.

Ellie, is the one who stuttered out your name as she realized you weren’t paying attention to her tutoring, as you had your gaze fixated on the black ink etched on her forearm, a half-covered flannel and a canvas of delicate veins. A bug, adorned with intricate botanical details, unfurled its wings across her skin.

“S’uh�� A moth, with ferns around it n’stuff. It’s kind of faded now though”

Her voice was raspy and husky, and she stuttered out your name. Usually, you’d hate it when people got nervous around you. It made you feel odd, ostracized, and you always insisted — you were so damn sweet, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You wore sweet perfume, sweet as goddamn cherries and cupcakes, and your voice was soft and you always smiled brightly, and so what if your purse cost more than a college tuition?

But her nerves didn’t annoy you. In fact, you found them charming, and you found her sweet. You found that all of her “Uhhh” ‘s, and her “Mhhm” ‘s, all of her stammering and her lack of ability to keep eye contact with you to be… infatuating.

Then there was that rich voice, and those eyes, that smile, those hands, those damn toned arms, those biceps and the haircut, the way two short strands of hair always framed her face perfectly and her scent — that you could tell was just a cheap cologne, but mixed with her unique fragrance, proved nothing short of intoxicating.

It was also the fact that she seemed to damn know everything — and that she was always ahead of you, and that her face always bore that coy little smirk when you got a question wrong (which you seemed to get more often than not), and that she would grab your Swarovski pen out of your hand and scribble down the answer for you, just to explain it in detail later.

The way she licked over her bottom lip and bit as wrote down.

With her long fingers and all.

When she spoke, her breath smelled of mint and the faintest tinge of weed, which made you think of how lovely it must be to be able to transform into a damn joint just so she could place you in her mouth and suck —

now you’re sticky, and god now you really are distracted, and not by a cute purse or the sound of rain pouring down on your window. Toodles stretches his tiny limbs and you hear his bell faintly dingle again. He climbs down from your princess bed and jumps up to sit at your lap. You caress down his white fur and he purrs.

You wonder if Ellie likes cats.

You know she likes pussy.

You have got to get a grip.

You massage your temples, attempting to focus on the written down questions again, but the words and the numbers seem to mix into a cacophony of odd symbols and letters, and you’re still so goddamn cold.

Albeit your eyelids droop down slowly, eyes spazzing out of focus, the assignment must be done today.

“Just, finish the damn work and go to sleep. Yup.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up as a result of being alone for most of your childhood, and having to opt for the help of imaginary friends to keep you comfort. Alas, you’re older now and only have yourself to talk to.

You try and follow your command.

The problem is, you don’t know jack shit.

You wish Ellie was here, with her hair sticking to her forehead and your pen in her hand and her old chuck’s glued to her feet, as she sits down on the spare chair aside you with her jaw resting on her knees.

You wish you could hear her faint chuckle as you get another question wrong.

As a tutor, of course.

Not even as a friend, because she’s not.

Definitely not as a lover, obviously, because that would truly be so far fetched from reality — although… right now, you can’t help but think of the way her eyes fall down to your chest as a crimson blush creeps up her cheeks.

And you keep thinking about the time you purposely let your bra strap cascade down your shoulder, just because you wondered how she’d react — Which was with averting her gaze to the side and clearing her throat. Now you think of the time you wore an extra short mini skirt, not that different from the rest of them although a bit tinier, and how you kept rubbing your thighs together just to see whether she’d notice or not, which she did…

You groan and slap your palm against your forehead.

Then, you stare at another question and then at your phone. Toodles chimes in with a high-pitched meow.

“Oh my gosh Toots, so true! I should text her the questions, duh”

You’re not delusional at all, by the way.

So you send her your address.

In the meantime, you make sure your studying environment and your room are as tidy as possible. You grab your sparkly pink pen and place it near the textbook, and you grab a matte black pen for Ellie as well, a thoughtful gesture.

You also apply some strawberry scented moisturizer on your body, and spray your sickly sweet perfume on your pule points.

You slip your feet out of your slippers, and you wear your favorite heels. However, you keep your little nightie on. You’re supposed to feel comfortable, this is your house after all, and the heels — are just a courtesy, you are expecting company, and opening the front door with house slippers is entirely rude, and the silky robe… It’s long enough and proper. Ish.

You stare at your reflection down the mirror, and for some reason, you feel utterly nervous. You’re all dolled up for a person who isn’t a stranger, but who also isn’t a friend. When you coat your lips with some minty gloss, Toodles stretches his tail upwards and meows.

“Psh. Do not judge me, Toots. This is normal, I do this all the time”

Which again is a total and complete white lie, because if it was a regular friend coming over, you wouldn’t have even bothered to fix up your makeup, and you’d barely even get up from the comfort of your own bed.

As a matter of fact, not many people come by your house at all. You have your fair share of friends, but you’d much rather hang out by the mall or at one of their mansions, yours always feels just, utterly suffocating — as giant and spacey as it might be. And sure, you’ve had hook ups before, but you always went rigid when they tried to slip past your panties, and you were always… dry, as an autumn leaf.

Ellie makes you feel anything but dry.

Physically — you shake your head and try getting rid of the thought by giving yourself some good old whiplash.

You find yourself pacing around your room, until you manage to cascade downstairs as soon as you hear the bell ring. With each step you take, your heel taps the lavish ceramic pavement.

“Stay”, you gesture towards your fluffy feline companion, who responds with a squinting of his eyes. “Don’t freak out our company”

You look at Ellie’s face from the intercom’s shiny screen. You look at it so hard you nearly forget to press on the button that’s purpose is to let your tutor-guest in. A couple of strands of her auburn bangs stick to her forehead. Ellie scratches her eyes with the back of her hands and she straightens up her spine. As she waits for the gate to open, she puffs some air from her cheeks. She attempts to fix her eyebrows with the tips of her fingers, and seems to be murmuring something underneath her breath.

You’re not the best at lip reading, but your gut tells you she just whispered a “Hi”, and added your name, then — “Hey” adding your name once more.

It’s absolutely impossible for her to not be aware of how stupidly and irritatingly cute she is.

You press on the button and clear your throat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t practice your greeting in front of a mirror as well. Your robe cascades down your shoulder, you fixate on it and contemplate pulling up the fabric.

Toodles meows once more.

Yup. You should keep it down.

It takes Ellie a good five minutes to walk the full distance from the front gate to your huge white door.

Then she knocks three times on the wood, and you squeak like a mouse although you really were fully prepared.

Your tutor wears a blue flannel with a white undershirt tucked beneath. The first button is opened, revealing a tiny piece of her pale skin. Below, her legs are covered with tight skinny jeans with a tear on the knee (you’re not sure if she fell or if it’s done purposely so), and to your surprise — no Chuck’s, but Doc Martens.

Noted. She has more than one pair of shoes.

When you greet Ellie with a cheerful — yet ever so relieved and breathy “Hi”, you kiss her on the cheek like you do all of your friends, and you can smell that cheap cologne again.

Amber, citrus, musk, lavender.

There’s a hint of actual Ellie in the mix as well — smoke, herbs, sweat… did she run here?

When you hug Ellie you focus on her scent.

When you hug Ellie she focuses on absofuckinglutely nothing — Her body goes rigid and stiff and she doesn’t hug you back until two way too long seconds pass, and she finally manages to place her hand on your waist.

But she doesn’t hug or squeeze, she rests it there.

Then she coughs.

“Hey”

You take a step back and you can tell she’s a bit flushed, or flustered — but you take it as her just running. You lean your hand against one of the thick pillars. Her orbs travel frantically from your eyes down to your… legs, that are completely bare and smooth and shiny, then they run down to your feet, which are covered with heels…

You think she might say something about it, about you, how ridiculous you look, so you’re washed up with self consciousness and shyness which is something you rarely get to feel, unless you’re with that damn girl for some reason.

Then her eyes hyper-focus on… the ceiling?

You grant Ellie a half smile and you really yearn to break the silence — but she’s ahead of you. Again.

“It’s… you have a really high ceiling” she says, then immediately glues her eyes on to the floor.

“Uh, shiny floor…” she chuckles so freaking awkwardly, grazing the bottom of her left legs doc’s on the floor so it squeaks. Immediately, Ellie apologizes.

“Shit, sorry, my shoes fuckin’ muddy. I uh, ran here”

You gingerly smile and furrow your brows. You theory has been proven correct. “You ran?”

“Walked, like, not ran ran”

There’s the tiniest droplet of sweat on Ellie’s forehead, which she wipe’s swiftly and clumsily with the back of her hand when she notices your eyes scan it. Oh, she ran ran alright. You do feel a little bad, picturing Ellie’s shoes hitting below her ass as she runs through the streets of your city, with a packed and awfully heavy mauve backpack — smacking against her back with every step she takes. You almost pout, you’re still leaning against the pillar and you smack your lips together — gloss and all, out of habit.

“Could’a given you a ride, y’know” you light sweetly. Ellie’s scarred eyebrow arches up in response. “You have a license?”

You so want to shove her shoulder playfully, but you’re convinced it’ll make her go absolutely rigid again. Physical contact bricks her up — noted.

“Why is that such a surprise?” you flash her a teasing smile. She smiles back at you.

“S’just, thought you’d have a personal driver. Can’t really imagine you driving that monster of a Rover back there —“

You nod in complete amusement. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ellie teases, followed by a throaty chuckle. “Plus, took you more of a passenger princess type of girl”

And that sentence shouldn’t make you stutter the way you do next. It shouldn’t, but it does. You back away slowly and Ellie follows your footsteps.

“T-that’s, awfully presumptuous” you chirp. Her boots stomp on the floor and your heels click clack. “Plus, I don’t drive that Rover. My car’s in the garage with the rest of ‘em” you say matter-of-factly.

Ellie scoffs impishly behind you. You walk up the stairs and she follows suit. She’s confident when she teases, you think, which is a tad different than her usual awkward self, but if only you knew she nearly slipped down one of the steps as she noticed the tiniest, delicious, most precious piece of your flesh that was just exposed behind you as a result of your incredibly short nightie.

“Psh, so presumptuous”

As you walk towards your room, Ellie walks behind you although she has more than enough space to walk besides you. You get the feeling that she's nervous, even after her teasing and all, and you don't have to wonder why too much. Your house is huge, intimidating, filled with strange sculptures and paintings by obscure artists regular people have never even heard of. You don't have just one living room, you have three, and in each and every one of them stands a different technology piece of some sort. Also, your heels cost more than her outfit, could be more worth than the entirety of her damn closet, and most importantly — you're walking with a pink robe and some heels on.

When you reach your room, Ellie awkwardly smiles and straightens her muscular back. Then, she holds on to the straps of her backpack.

"First of all" you sigh, and now it's your turn to feel coy. "Thank you for coming over so late. I know it's like, absolutely ridiculous, and you know, you don't get paid for this so...", you flash Ellie an endearing smile, the apples of your cheeks rising sweetly as a humble thank you. "And, second of all... jus'... brace yourself?"

Ellie's brows arch up, but before she has time to ask — oh.

You both step into your lit room. Toodles follows by closely, entering the room as well, whilst rubbing his furry back against Ellie's calves.

"Yup..."

Ellie's fingers instinctively clasp onto the straps of her backpack once more, her eyes widening ever so slightly, but she fights to seem as unsurprised as she can — she fails miserably, because she gasps a little.

Your room is nothing but a... cotton candy dream world. A wall that's painted in pretty dusty pink, a princess bed that's nothing but a regal centerpiece. Above the bed, a canopy of gossamer silk drapes from a custom-crafted wrought iron frame, And the final sophisticated touch, a grand crystal chandelier, suspended from the ceiling. There are also clothes everywhere, empty water bottles, used sheet masks, a stack of books — some half-read, others forgotten, teetered precariously on a random corner. Ellie sticks out like a sore thumb. She stands out like a neon sign in a library, a skateboard at a black-tie gala.

You like it.

She clears her throat, stepping further into your room. "I take it black is your favorite color?" she titters sarcastically.

You giggle.

"Mhm, also I'm clearly very organized, and I hate clothes" you murmur and point out the pile of dresses haphazardly bunched in the corner of your room.

She should feel out of place. She should probably laugh, even sneak a pic — tell all her "cool" friends about how mindblowingly ridiculous the prissy rich girls room is. Instead, she thinks about how cute you must look cuddled up in a bed this big, how adorable it'd be to see your bed-head poking through the sheets at 8am, how sweet it must be to watch you skip around your room, trying on your shitload of clothes, throwing them in the air and huffing like a medieval brat of a princess. She wants to place a fucking tiara on your head. She sees your sticker collection from the corner of her eye, your vinyls, your candles, your crystals and Toodles' sofa.

And she likes it.

You take a deep breath. You shouldn't even care if she likes it or not, you shouldn't be bothered by it at all — you rarely are, but something inside of you yearns for... something.

"It suits you" she murmurs.

And that's certainly good enough, because it does.

You gesture Ellie to sit on the rolling chair next to yours, and her eyes still roam over the space of your room. “My room looks exactly the same, by the way… same uh, size too… n’stuffed animals… Shit, I like the elephant one”, she sarcastically remarks as she sits on the chair and hunches down, manspreading as she often does. Your eyes can’t help but roam down, because her damn thighs flexed under those jorts and you heard her, but you also kind of didn’t.

Ellie clears her throat and narrows her eyes. Jheez, she thinks, you must be absolutely exhausted since your eyes don’t seem to be able to focus.

“Huh?” you say, startled. You’re still standing up on those heels. Ellie sniffles and chuckles and her voice goes all quiet.

“Said pink nauseates me, that I hate those stuffed animals and that your elephant doll’s ugly as shit”

You roll your eyes and your tongue swipes over your glossy bottom lip. You bite it and you sit down on the chair. Ellie’s eyes scan over your chest and she averts her gaze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hate you, chem tutor” you huff, resting your head on the palm of your hand. Ellie doesn’t maintain a second of eye contact but she chuckles and it’s cocky.

“You need me, and you need an A in chemistry”

You like that side of her.

You let your eyes blink lazily at her, a cheeky little smirk forming on your lips. When you open your mouth again, just to smack it on your glossy lips, you brush your leg ‘accidentally�� against hers, and rigid she goes. “Mhm, I definitely need you, Ellie…”

The apples of Ellie’s cheek shine in bright crimson and her hand flexes. She grabs her pen and clicks on it once. You didn’t mean it like that, she so obviously knows or believes, but it matters nonetheless. You like that side of her so much more.

You cross your pretty legs and let the tip of your heel graze her chair. “So, you want a drink before we start studying?”, you’re way too damn close, she nods — but she doesn’t need a ‘drink’ she needs a damn water fountain that directly flows onto her mouth and satisfies that damn drench. Is it possible for her damn knee to feel hot? Why is her knee feeling hot?

“Anything specific?”

“Jus’ waters fine” Ellie manages to murmur, lips forming a teeny tiny, shy, crescent smile.

“I was thinking more… like, wine? I have a wine cooler n’my room… if you wanted water i’d have to like, go downstairs and… It’s so lonely in there” your voice is saccharine, delicate, and it and coaxes Ellie’s mind.

“Wine’s perfect, I love wine” says Ellie.

She hates wine.

“Mhm, red or white?” — Your question comes when you lift your butt off the chair and walk slowly towards the cooler.

“Uh, r-red. S’much… richer” Ellie falters, remembering vaguely the time Joel had mentioned white wine’s for pussies. When she tried a red one, she gagged.

“Impressive” you note.

Ellie rolls the chair with the help of her heavy Doc's, and watches as you pour the red liquid into two delicate glasses. Your leg, she notices, is clad with a shiny, delicate golden piece of jewelry. Her eyes scan upwards, towards your bare thighs — the flesh is glistening, almost appearing as if it's covered with oil. Her mind drifts elsewhere, to a world in which your nightie is nothing but nonexistent, and those thighs...

Her stomach grumbles, she firmly holds onto it. Why NOW.

"Hungry?" you place the glass on the table, slightly nudging it towards Ellie.

She's starving.

you flash her a devilish smirk, cocking your head to the side.

"Oh, uhh... nope"

Famished.