#How to Find the Best Psychologist for Your Needs

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141 x pregnant Reader

reaction if they are the biological father. if they are not the Dad

Postpartum Depression

Ever thought about what it would be like to be pregnant with this gigantic pile of handsome men? Because I've thought about it, and I can go into heavy detail—I will go into heavy detail!

Price: This man has a heavy breeding kink, and no one can convince me otherwise. He was so happy when he found out you were pregnant that he immediately got into heavy Dad mode. "What do you mean?" he asked after you told him he doesn't need to baby-proof the house when you're only in the second month. He attends baby preparation courses with you and overall turns into a super daddy.

Johnny: The second one with a heavy breeding kink is 100% sure he is the father. "It's the MacTavish genes," he says confidently. "We're going to have at least three bairns by the end of the five-year mark." He wouldn't admit it, but he called his mother crying while he told her the news. The MacTavish Family was special, so they all came with big stroller gifts and the urge to overwhelm you with their love. They don't care who the baby's biological father is; in their hearts, you're a MacTavish, exactly like your sweet little bairn.

Kyle: He is really excited. He already loves the baby and is also 100% sure it's his because you two have the most sex out of all of them. He always fights with Johnny about who the father probably is. Kyle is the one who thinks the most about you. He knows how you struggle with the pregnancy and how it isn't easy for you with all the overwhelming baby daddies around you, so he takes his time to care about you. He compliments you more than ever, and if you have a weird craving, he's already ordered it before you even said a word. He is constantly trying to find a baby-safe option of your favorite food. He doesn't drink coffee anymore so you don't mourn alone. Check-up? He is the first to be there, and when the baby was born and everyone looked at it, he went to you. Not because he loves the baby less—it's his world—but because he was so afraid the whole pregnancy of losing his soulmate, the only thing worth fighting for, the only thing that kept him alive.

Ghost: He never wanted kids—at least he thought he didn't—but it made sense with you. He knew you would be the best mother in the world. So why was he so afraid? He thought about how he could hurt the baby all the time with his pure strength or how he would scare the baby or hurt you. For a blissful second, he thought maybe it would be better if he left so you'd be safe from all the shadows of his past. But he was better than his family. He bought lots of parenting books, went to his psychologist regularly, and attended dad meetings, not daddy meetings—a terrible mistake he made. He even bought you a guard dog for the possibility that you and the baby are alone. To his surprise, but not to yours, he was the most gentle and understanding dad there ever was.

Dont ask me why my brain came up with this weird stuff again but Im already thinking about how they react when they found out who the biological father is lol

[yuveenti-blog]

Astrology Observations 08/01/2024

Sun and Ascendant (Rising Sign) Personalities

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The Sun and Ascendant combination is important because it crafts together who you are precisely so let’s look at the combinations.

Disclaimer: If you do not see your sign combination you can ask ( reply) for yours and I will respond ☺️

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Aries Sun + Taurus Rising

The Aries energy would dominate in this combination. This combination makes the individual ambitious to make their mark in this world. This persons words can cut deep, they are aggressive with a no-nonsense approach to life and their standards are extremely high. Once they have a desire, they go after it with strength and stamina. They are very protective of those they love. They do not do well if they’re not in the lead and they are like a solid boulder when they do not want to do something.

Taurus Sun+ Gemini Rising

The Gemini energy will dominate. This individual will have many hobbies and interests. They can be the person who desires or has more than one stream of income. They can be incredibly creative and multi-talented. These individuals are gifted with writing and they can communicate their ideas a lot easier because the Gemini energy is filtered through the Taurus and vice versa. They may find themselves changing career paths, friend groups, residence, and aesthetics a lot through their life. These people are very sexual and erotic.

Gemini Sun + Cancer Rising

The Cancer energy will dominate. This individual will find themselves constantly moving their goal posts, changing their mind, being inconsistent. They will have a lot of friends and people who enjoy their company. These people are like psychologists and can read people very well. They are also prone to venting and talking about how they feel a lot. They can overreact a lot. They absorb so much information that they can get headaches or anxiety especially when around others. These people have very creative minds and can truly help bring such fascinating ideas to this world, they will struggle with stamina and follow-through which isn’t their strong suit.

Cancer Sun+ Leo Rising

The Leo energy will dominate. These individuals are very image conscious, any slight remark to them wounds them easily. They need to feel “liked” and their desire for other people around them is strong. They may take people not liking them hard because they are so likeable they are charming, kind, people with big hearts and positive energy. They can find it hard to change their perspective or how they do things. Their need for stability is strong and they may have a cool and unfazed demeanor. They enjoy positive people who are caring. They need to feel loved or they suffer immensely.

Leo Sun+ Virgo Rising

The Virgo energy dominates. This individual strives to be the best at everything they do. They will not want attention for anything, unless they feel they are doing their best or succeeding. Very hard on themselves. They may find it hard to admit when they are wrong and struggle to express their emotions. They may feel all their flaws are on display. These people are detail-oriented and very picky. These people are hard to please and do not do well in submissive positions. They yearn for success and are obsessed with their image and health. Always trying to improve but extremely generous.

Virgo Sun+ Libra Rising

Libra energy dominates. These people are aesthetic people, neat freaks, the one that always has to look good. The person who can be perfect on the outside and chaotic internally. Stuck in their head and feeling pulled in different directions, they can find it hard to feel grounded. These individuals do not handle issues or problems well either ignoring them or people-pleasing and not being authentic on their feelings. They may feel uncomfortable expressing issues with others or being truthful. These are the teachers pet, parents favorite kid, and well-liked at work. A lot of superficial relationships with not many people not knowing the real you. These people have a very high standards.

Libra Sun + Scorpio Rising

Scorpio energy dominates. These people are very alluring, something about their aura pulls you in. They come off as cool, sexy, charming, beautiful. These people can be very popular and attract a lot of attention from romantic suitors. They can see into people like no other. Don’t try hiding anything from them. They will go out of their way to get what they want and to enjoy their life. Very kinky and sexual, they are open to experimenting in the bedroom. They know how to create diverse friendships, they can be lighthearted and deep. They can be incredibly sensitive, desiring creative outlets to channel such strong energy internally. These are the kind of people who may hide away when they’re depressed, stressed, or having a hard time in life.

Scorpio Sun + Sagittarius Rising

The Sagittarius energy dominates. These are very resilient people, very strong-willed, and mentally enduring. They have strong personalities as their aura and personality is strong. A lot of people come to this combination for their opinion, wisdom, or to just talk. This individual has a lot of confidence and doesn’t like to give-up. Even through hardships they always come out on top. These are the people who will know you so well and they are also very understanding of their own self. They can be very direct in their talking so sometimes people may think they are mean or rude. But they love a good laugh. This person is a life-long learner that needs to stray at times to spend time exploring their inner world and feeling free.

Sagittarius Sun + Capricorn Rising

The Capricorn energy dominates. These individuals try their best to create the life they desire. Natural manifestors they bring their ideas to life. If you say they can’t do it, they will show they can. They are passionate towards life and desire to create a utopian world. Their diligence to taking action and working towards their goals is admirable. They may trip up on their way, fueled by excitement and impulsivity, but they truly know how to get their shit together. They will want to live lavish and enjoy spending money as much as making it. Open-minded but prefer for only a few to know them more deeply. Very sexual but who would know, you like to show that to only those who deserve that side of you. To these individuals their life serves a higher purpose.

Capricorn Sun + Aquarius Rising

The Aquarius energy dominates. These individuals can seem unbothered, serious, or boring. They may have a unique look to them whether through their fashion, hair, or physical features. They won’t be big talkers upon first impression. They will not come across fiery or emotional, very calm people. They have large ideals and no times for games so they cut a lot of fun and pleasure out of their life to reach their goals. These people feel the weight of the world on them and they take responsibilities serious. They need space in their relationships and may go through different relationships throughout their life before finding someone who matches their energy or they just don’t care about dating. Very intelligent people but a lot of people may considered them boring or weird.

Aquarius Sun + Pisces Rising

The Pisces energy dominates. These individuals are the true definition of in your own world. They may be hard to even connect to at times as they march to the beat of their own drum and are quirky. These people enjoy living life through rose-colored glasses and doesn’t enjoy the negative and darker sides of life. Very big imaginations, their mind is a movie and portal to other dimensions. They may be silent a lot of the time, daydreaming, drifting off, or actually sleep. These people do not like hard work, mean people, or routines. A strong intuition and can be isolationist at times.

Pisces Sun+ Aries Rising

The Aries energy dominates. These people are dreamers that will fight for their dreams and ideals. If you tell them they are unrealistic they will simply say “ speak for yourself”. These people can appear youthful with so much wisdom. They can be so self-sacrificing to those around them and feel pain so intensely. These individuals build energy before taking action, they still need time to sit back and fall into different portals of their mind. They can be quite impulsive doing things based on their intuition and impulse. They can be popular because they are compassionate, bold, and full of drive. They would love spiritual sex, sex that ascends the human bodies.

Cancer Sun + Aries Rising

The Aries energy dominate. These people are quick to react without thinking. They always feel intuitively and struggle with rationality. These are self-focused people. They look out for their best interest. Loners. These people can have emotional outbursts but they tend to suppress their emotions to not be perceived as weak. These people go through a lot of mood changes and are quite ambitious. The world is their playground and thus they like to play. They usually prefer to dominate, but they can also be submissive when it works to their advantage. They may enjoy intimate closeness but not for long as they will be off doing something solo sooner than later.

Aries Sun + Capricorn Rising

The Capricorn energy will dominate. Success is all that matters to these people. Everything they do must be successful, they have no room to play games. They do not talk in circles, they give it to others straight. They will be meticulous in who is in their circle because you have to be on their path to success or you’re getting cut. Extremely loyal, once you’re locked in with this combination they are in it. This is a sign that will confront you, they don’t bullshit or lie, if they don’t want to discuss they will not. No one has power over them as they are their ultimate authority. These people do not like weak and passive people or people with no goals. They are very sexual and have lots of stamina in the bedroom. They may face a lot of challenges but they are strong and can whether any storm.

Taurus Sun + Leo Rising

The Leo energy will dominate. Telling these individuals what to do will get you cursed out. They need everything in their life to be high quality. Their way or the highway kind of people. They won’t typically get angry but when they do you better watch out. They are opinionated and they will tell you how things should be quickly. These people are very charming, beautiful, popular. They might become manipulative easily. These are creative and artistic people who can dress amazing and have amazing looking houses. This combination guarantees success and admiration. People can be easily jealous of these people. They can age gracefully. These are very generous and romantic lovers but they don’t bullshit, you can’t bring bare minimum to them or expect to get cursed out.

Aquarius Sun + Taurus Rising

The Taurus energy dominates. These are the ultimate chill people. They might be quirky but that can be in their habits, interests, and relationships. They probably have a very beautiful look to them and dress neat. These people can slowly build wealth for themselves in their lives. They can do well building their way up in a company. They offer great insight and can be ahead of their time with their thinking. Solution oriented they won’t mellow on problems for long. Sometimes these people get super physical and pleasing their senses and other times they’re stuck in their head. It can be hard to connect to them but they’re an asset wherever they go.

Gemini Sun + Virgo Rising

The Gemini energy dominates. The person who talks a lot but you always find you learn something new. They may carefully craft their ground of friends. They can be picky about a lot but they never stay in the same situation for long. They’ll be quick to complain but they are entertaining. They have the best jokes. They can be loud and move around a lot. Nothing escapes these people’s eyes. They can communicate very well. These people have high expectations and will read you like a book.

🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿🧿

[godspeedviper]

How the doctors handle your sick days - Headcanons

SFW || TW: mentions of needles, vaccines, pills & IV drip.

This one's for the girls, goths, and gays that have a chronic illness, a disability, or are just plain old sick. As a chronically ill girlie myself I'm always craving caretaker fics but never find them so I had to be the change I wanted to see in the world.

Dr. Jonathan Crane

He immediately shifts into a stoic clinical demeanor the moment you start to show any signs of discomfort. At first you find it a bit worrisome because his voice seems so cold and detached, but now it makes you feel grounded and safe.

Jonathan always makes sure you have everything you need, but he unfortunately doesn't think much further than that. It takes him some time to learn how to comfort you as well as heal you.

The best part about having him by your side when you're ill is that he can always talk you out of a bad state of mind. Above all, Crane remains a psychologist, and he takes pride in his ability to override your negative thoughts.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

You are utterly spoiled. Hannibal makes sure to cook for you and bring your meal to bed or the living room so you can eat comfortably. In the evenings, he makes sure to run a hot bath for you with herbs and epsom salts to soothe any aches and open up your respiratory system.

Since he is a doctor after all, he has prescribing rights, and will usually write prescriptions for any necessary medications. Need to get an injection, or an IV drip? Hannibal does that for you at home.

His pride and possessiveness makes him want to give you the best possible care to ensure someone else doesn't touch you this way. Hannibal gets nervous at the thought of your safety and health being out of his hands. How could he trust someone else with such a precious life? What if they made a mistake and hurt you or worse?

Dr. Robert Laing

"I'm not that kind of doctor." is always the first thing he says when you mention that you aren't feeling well. However, this doesn't mean he's not helpful, he is still a pathologist. Laing always does his best to make you feel better.

He's always reading up on your symptoms and possible treatments. If something is out of his grasp, he isn't afraid to admit it and seek out assistance. Even if he can't be the one to treat you, Laing will be there with you every step of the way to advocate for you and make sure you feel safe.

Much like Scarecrow, at first he seems rather cold and detached, but it's only his training taking over. However, his starting bedside manner is much better, and over time he adapts very well to your needs.

Dr. Spencer Reid

Now he's definitely not that kind of doctor, but that doesn't mean he isn't prepared to take care of you. His eidetic memory comes in clutch with any possible knowledge about your condition and how to act accordingly.

He always tries to be there for your doctor appointments or for any major procedures. Spencer wants to make sure you're being properly cared for and he isn't afraid to confront anyone that talks down to you or dismisses your symptoms.

When you're resting at home he clings to you like a lost puppy. He happily reads to you when you lack the energy to talk, or if you just want a bedtime story. He never forgets to check in on you even when he's away on a case, and will often ask Garcia to pick up items from the pharmacy for you if he can't do it himself.

Ao3 || Guidelines || Ko-Fi

[keypaa]

Astrology Observations No.5 🧛🏻‍♀️💋🖤👻

(+ a bit creepy stuff)

I use the whole sign system

Uranus opposition Ascendant & strangers talking to you all of a sudden in unexpected ways and places

Mars in 8th house get attacked by spirits often (sleep paralysis, seeing shadows, feeling presences) in many places you go to

!Sensitive topic¡

Astroid Medusa (149) in strong aspects (usually squares) with the north node/southnode + pluto indicate r*pe. I saw it in two of my friends chart. The north node can be seen as destiny. Even if you don't have this aspect and still went through this i love you you are never alone ❣︎

Scorpio ascendants attract a whole bunch of creeps trust your gut and keep it safe people always pay attention to what you are doing you just need to look closer

Lilith in the 10th house and females being annoyed of their presence in the work place. Usually also attract a whole bunch of jealousy in school, uni or at work. Michele Avil that was murdered by her best friend because of jealousy had this placement

Moon in Scorpio hate not having control they know how to (atleast try) to get someone to do something. Positive note good investigators who would make great psychologists, detectives and so on

So well if you have a bunch of 1st house, 8th house or 12th house placements in planets like venus, mars, moon or lilith you are more prone to attract stalkers atleast once in your life KEEP IT SAFE and I mean it¡! And by stalkers I also mean people who do a whole bunch of research on you and your life or keep following you obsessively on social media.

Don't leak unnecessary information about you and try to not go to quite places alone where no one could find you if something would happen.

Lilith in leo are feared by females loved by men

Venus in 10th house don't tell anyone about your love life trust me even tho people always find things to say and spread rumors about. You will publicly be known for what is happening in your love life.

Moon in aries need to be feared, if introverted it takes long to see their anger but most aries moons show ther anger explosively nevertheless they cool down rather quickly, loyal to their loved ones tho

Don't fuxk with leo venus friends they take care of them like a lion mother, dedicated

Venus in capricorn always have enemys

Masculines with libra placements always fall for people who don't love them the same way/or for absolutely toxic & crazzzy people

Lilith in the 22nd degree are necrophilists. Just look at Richard Ramirez chart, he loved s*x with the dead.

According to Ian Altosaar the 22nd degree is about murder and I combined this information with liliths nature, hidden desire. 👻Ps: Most necrophilists are men not always but almost all the time https://ijop.net/index.php/mlu/article/download/734/688/1339 or on Wikipedia (not so reliable source but says that about 92% are men)

Virgo placements get underratedly sexualised a whole lot. The biggest p*rn star right now has virgo placements. Also virgo liliths can be se*ualised

Pisces moons had a time of their life where they cried a lot or still are very emotional (nothing bad). Other than that they can be dangerously manipulative if they want to and feel every slight difference in someones behavior

Aquarius ascendants and loving colorful clothing

Juno (3) in aries and rooting for ambitious people that behave masculine in a loving manner (romantically)

Juno (3) in aquarius want a partner that sticks out from the masses

Mercury in sagittarius have a special voice

Pholus (astroid) shows you what transformed you the most in your life:

1st hous/Aries: You yourself/sports caused a transformation in your life

2st house/Taurus: Your financial situation changed you

3rd house/Gemini: The area where you live in (hood) affected you, or off topic your car/drivers license

4rd house/Cancer: Your home life, emotions or femininity

5th house/Leo: Creative skills of yours or recognition transformed you

6th house/Virgo: Routine or your health/hygiene plays/played a crucial role in your life

7th house/Libra: Your love life/ or glow up affected your life view

8th house/Scorpio: Deaths, paranormal stuff, operations, accidents and your sexuality transformed your way of dealing with life

9th house/ Saggitarius: Other cultures, traveling and your ancestors trigger something in you

10th house/Capricorn: Your work, work environment and accomplishments changed you

11th house/Aquarius: Humanitarian topics, technology and friends started your transformation journey

12th house/Pisces: Religion, spirituality & plastic surgerys may have affected your journey of developing your sense of self

Luvvv muah

3:18 PM

555

© 2024 the content is subject to the copyright and responsibility of the author

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: toyin’ with them older guys

pairing: bartender!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 | masterlist

summary:

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder.

But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation.

Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

author’s note: thank you to everyone who hyped me up to post this when i wasn’t sure how i felt about it. your comments mean the world 💕

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), alternate universe - no cordyceps outbreak, no use of y/n, unspecified age gap, alcohol references/consumption, possessive behavior, jealousy, mild violence (in the form of Joel kicking someone out of his bar), brief reference to Sarah’s mom and divorce, tinder dates, bribery, dirty talk, begging, pet names, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking. let me know if i’ve missed anything!

There’s a bar near the university that you love to go to for multiple reasons.

For one, they have great drinks. For two, their loaded tater tots are the best drunk food you’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.

But the number one reason, above all else, is the grumpy bartender and owner, Joel Miller.

The first time you saw him, he was challenging a kid with a fake ID, his arms crossed over his broad chest, emphasizing the strain of his flannel over his biceps. When the kid tried to take a swing at him, he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back before marching him out of the bar and kicking him to the curb.

Your friend had to remind you to breathe.

He hosts a trivia night at the bar on Tuesday nights, the perfect excuse to see the man weekly. You sit at the bar each time, scribbling your answers on the notepad as you sip on a vodka cranberry and sneak glances at the older man while he works.

One night, you were struggling to answer a question about where the Lord of the Rings trilogy was filmed when Joel leaned across the bar, bringing his lips close to your ear to say, “New Zealand.”

You’d gotten the point, thanks to him. And from that day forward, he’d linger near your corner of the bar, watching to see if you needed help with an answer. Eventually, you started showing up earlier and earlier for trivia night, just for the chance to talk to him.

You told him about your PhD program and the research you were conducting. You wanted to be a psychologist, but for now you’re just a perpetual student. You miss winter weather in Colorado, but appreciate not having to store a giant jacket anywhere in your small apartment. Your favorite season is fall, and your favorite holiday is Halloween.

He tells you about buying the bar a few years ago, after his divorce from Sarah’s mom and ensuing custody battle had been finalized, an investment he made with his brother Tommy. They’d fixed it up themselves and made it a popular local spot. His favorite movie is Indiana Jones and he prefers whiskey over any other drink.

It’s no surprise that along the way you’d fallen in love with the man.

Too bad he’d never feel the same.

————

Joel remembers the first night he saw you. Your rosy cheeks and tipsy smile as you leaned forward to say, “Vodka cranberry, please. With lime .”

“Lime, huh?” He remembers saying. You nodded your head vigorously.

“The lime is the best part,” you insisted. He chuckled.

“Not the vodka?”

“Gross, no.”

He tossed in three lime slices and you shimmied your shoulders with glee.

You come into the bar, alone, for trivia night on Tuesdays now. You’re a fountain of random facts, but every once in a while he’ll feed you an answer to help you out because he likes the smile that you give him in return.

He has no right to be looking at you the way that he finds himself doing every week. Eyes wandering to the way your jeans hug your ass or drifting to your cleavage when you rest your elbows against the bar.

But between the conversations and the trivia and the sweet smiles, he’d gone and fallen in love.

Which is why when you come to trivia night with a man who wraps an arm around your waist, Joel loses his goddamn mind and does the stupidest thing ever.

You get up to go to the bathroom and Joel leans across the bar to address the guy, keeping his eyes on the bathroom.

“I’ll give you $100 if you leave right now,” Joel says.

“What?”

“Hundred bucks if you walk out that door and don’t talk to that girl again,” he says again. He digs his wallet from his pants and pulls a bill out, setting it on the bar top.

Without further question, the man grabs the money and stuffs it in his pocket as he heads out the door. Joel feels a flash of guilt when you return from the bathroom and look around for your missing date.

“Said he had an emergency,” Joel lies. He’s surprised when you look relieved.

“He was kind of boring, anyways,” you shrug, dragging your notepad and pen closer to you. “He probably would have just dragged us down.”

Us, Joel thinks.

He could get used to that.

________

Your friend, Marie, had convinced you to try out Tinder. She was absolutely certain you were missing out on the love of your life by not swiping mindlessly through profiles that held no interest to you.

You weren’t about to confess your unrequited love for the local bartender to get her off your case, so that’s how you ended up on a date with Michael. He was a law student and liked kayaking and hiking.

You liked neither of those things, but he had curly brown hair and you had a type, so why not give it a shot?

You didn’t have it in you to be too upset when you returned from the bathroom only to find out from Joel that Michael had left. Joel slid you another vodka cranberry with lime and your night went as it always did.

When Marie asked you the next morning how the date went and you told her he bailed, she insisted on picking your next one. She chose Scott, a financial analyst at a local bank.

You’re starting to think Marie doesn’t know you very well.

Regardless, you show up at the bar for another trivia night date. Scott is tall and lean, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he wore a suit to a bar. When you comment on it, he pulls a face and says he came straight from work.

“Not all of us are lucky enough to not have real jobs,” he says. You blink at him, surprised by the hostility.

That hostility continues when Joel approaches the two of you at the bar, lips turned down in a scowl, and Scott decides to order for you.

“She’ll take a vodka water with lemon and I’ll have Bulleit, neat.”

Joel raises his eyebrows at Scott, his eyes flicking to you briefly, before he sets a plastic cup on the bar top. He holds Michael’s gaze as he pours a shot of vodka into your cup, before using the soda gun to dispense cranberry juice. You have to bite back your smile.

“Vodka cranberry with lime,” he says, sliding you your drink. “And your whiskey will be right out.”

“That’s not what I ordered,” Scott replies.

“Yeah, but it’s what she would’ve.”

Scott sputters, face going an alarming shade of red with his indignation.

“I’ll be right back,” you mutter, taking your drink with you as you head to the bathroom.

________

“I’m not paying for that drink,” the blonde asshole says, knocking his knuckles against the bar for emphasis. Joel huffs a laugh.

“I don’t give a shit, kid. I want you out of my bar,” he says, planting both hands on the wood.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my bar.”

“I’m on a date!”

“Not anymore.” Joel rounds the bar and gets up in the little weasel’s face. “Get. Out.”

The boy’s eyes go wide, like he realizes that maybe Joel isn’t playing around. He scrambles from his barstool, standing to his full height like he’s about to challenge Joel.

“You can’t kick me out, old man,” the blonde snaps.

Joel’s had enough. He fists a hand in the starched white shirt collar, driving him back towards the exit. The other patrons move out of the way, some whistling and cheering Joel on. He shoves the man out the door and looks at the doorman.

“He doesn’t come back inside,” he says. “And you? Don’t ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Joel returns to the bar as you’re walking up. For a moment, he worries that you may have seen him acting like a caveman getting rid of his competition, but you look around in confusion.

“Where’s Scott?” You ask.

“He forgot about somethin’ at work,” Joel says. Your brow furrows.

“Kinda weird that’s happened to me twice now,” you comment.

Joel just shrugs.

________

You don’t tell Joel about how you saw him throw Scott out of his bar that night.

You’d just left the bathroom when you saw Joel stomp out from behind the bar, his eyes dark and fixed on your date. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but based on the affronted way Scott was responding, it wasn’t anything good.

You crept closer to the scene, but stayed amongst the crowd. Joel marched Scott backwards with a fist tangled in his collar, shoving him out the door.

“And you? Don’t you ever fuckin’ talk to her again.”

Your mouth went dry at his words and your mind reeled at the implications. Was he doing this from a place of friendship? Or…could he maybe feel the same way you do?

Only one way to find out.

You call up Travis, a good friend from undergrad who still lived in town.

“Trav, I need your help,” you say when he answers the phone.

“Burying a body type of help or financial type of help?” He replies easily.

“Actually, more experimental.”

“I don’t swing that way.”

“No, listen to me, I have a hypothesis,” you insist, explaining the situation to him. How you’ve been on two dates at Joel’s bar but each time, the men have left without another word. And how after what you witnessed, you’re inclined to believe that it’s not a coincidence.

You ask Travis to come with you to the next trivia night. All he needs to do is pretend to be there on a date with you. A bit of hand holding, maybe an arm around the waist. Nothing more.

“But what if he tries to threaten my life?” Travis asks.

“Well…I mean…every experiment has risks,” you reply flippantly. He sputters indignantly down the line. “I’ll buy you your drinks and get you tater tots.”

He’s silent for a moment before responding, “Fine. Extra jalapeños and I’m not getting well liquor.”

“Thank you!”

________

You come into his bar with another man. His arm is draped over your shoulders as you approach the bar and Joel has to set the glass he’s drying down before it shatters in his hands.

“Joel! This is Travis,” you say, gesturing to your date. He forces a smile, reaching a hand across the bar to shake his hand.

“What can I get started for you?” Joel asks. The man, Travis, orders an old-fashioned with top shelf whiskey, while you request your regular.

“I’ll be right back,” you say as Joel is pouring the drinks. You weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms and Joel leans in to address Travis.

“I’ll pay you $100 to leave this date,” Joel says.

Travis smirks. “Make it $200.”

“Are you serious?”

“That depends, are you?”

Joel’s eyes flick towards the back of the bar and he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He pulls out four fifties, dropping them on the bar.

Travis pockets the money before adding, “You know, there’s cheaper ways to get the girl.”

“Get out,” Joel grunts. The younger man laughs his way to the door, and you appear at the bar a moment later.

“Where’d Travis go?” You ask.

“Oh, he—“

“Can I get an order of the loaded tots?” Travis asks, cutting Joel off from making up an excuse for his absence and sitting back down on the stool beside you with a shit eating grin. “She owes me.”

“Owes you?” Joel asks through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, she lost a bet. I told her I could get the number of that guy over there in less than three minutes and she doubted my charm.”

“Travis and I went to undergrad together,” you explain. “We just wanted to hang out and catch up.”

Shit.

________

Travis decides to leave after two plates of loaded tots and one too many drinks. You help him call an Uber, but you stay behind as the bar starts to clear out.

It’s just Joel behind the bar, wiping down the wood and setting bottles back to their rightful spots as you sip from a cup of water. The kitchen has closed down and the music has been shut off, leaving the two of you in loaded silence.

“So…,” you say, twirling your straw in your near empty cup. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Joel’s shoulders go tense before he releases a deep sigh, turning to face you. The bar separates you, and it feels like miles of distance when all you want to do is get your hands on him now that your hypothesis has been proven.

Joel Miller likes you. And he’s been sabotaging your dates because of it. Perhaps you should be more upset, but all you can feel is an effervescent giddiness bubbling in your veins.

While he struggles to find the words, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You reach across the bar, hooking your fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and tugging him forward. You lean over to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his.

You pull back and look into his eyes. The coffee colored brown of his irises seems darker, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

________

Joel’s got one hand on the wheel of the truck and the other resting on your thigh. He has to keep a hand on you because he’s worried that if he doesn’t anchor himself, he’ll wake up from this dream.

You kissed him. You reached across the bar and dragged his lips to yours in a way he’d only dreamed of doing a thousand times since you’d sauntered into his life.

He can’t help the small smile that tilts his lips up at the thought.

“What’s got you smiling over there?” You ask, your voice teasing. He glances at you.

“You do, darlin’,” he says. He relishes in the pink that blooms across your cheeks at the pet name.

Joel drives to his house, parking the truck in the driveway of his little bungalow. His bachelor pad, as Tommy calls it.

Maybe not for much longer.

He circles the truck to open the door for you, helping you down from the cab. He keeps his hand on your low back as he leads you up the porch steps and through the door.

You toe off your shoes in the entryway, letting them join the pair of sneakers Joel left by the door. You’re wearing a pair of socks with tiny cats printed on them, the sight so endearing to him he can’t hold back his laugh.

“What?” You ask.

“Nothin’, just…like the look of you here. In my house,” he says.

“Yeah?” You take a step closer to him, toe to toe as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah,” he whispers, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging your body against his. The heat of you even through the layers of your clothes sends a shiver down his spine.

You press your hands to his chest, sliding them up and over his shoulders before linking them behind his neck.

“You gonna give me a real kiss?” You whisper back. Your lips are so tantalizingly close that they ghost across his as you speak.

He closes the distance, lips dancing with yours as he kisses you senseless. The feel of you against him, moving with him, sends sparks skittering across his skin. He’s unable to hold still, hands roaming from your back to your waist to your hips as your mouths part and your tongues tangle with increased desperation.

Joel slides his hands to the backs of your thighs, crouching slightly to lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your core slides against his growing hardness and he groans at the sensation as you let out the neediest whimper.

He wants to hear more.

He walks you both through the empty house until he reaches his bedroom, tossing you on top of sheets still rumpled from last night’s sleep. You scramble to sit up on your knees, moving to the edge of the bed and curling your fingers into the waist of his jeans.

“Can I suck your cock, Joel?” You ask, voice all breathy as you stare up at him with your big doe eyes. “Please?”

Joel’s mouth has gone bone dry. “Yeah? You want my cock in that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart?”

You nod your head, fingers working on the buckle of his belt. His hands work in tandem with yours to get his fly open, shoving the denim down his thighs until he can step out of them. His cock tents his boxers, a wet spot already apparent on the fabric and he watches as you reach a hand out to stroke him, a groan escaping him at the feel of your warm palm against him.

“Take your clothes off and get on your knees,” Joel commands. He lifts his own shirt over his head as you unbutton and remove your pants, shimmying the tight fabric down your legs. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed as he watches you lift your shirt up and off.

His eyes rove your body hungrily. Your perfect tits and gorgeous curves, the way you flush beneath his gaze.

“Come here, baby,” he says, crooking a finger. You come to stand between his legs and he reaches around your back, unhooking your bra with deft fingers.

“You’re rather skilled at that, Mr. Miller,” you tease.

“I’m old, not dead.” He slips the straps from your shoulders, tugging the last barrier between him and your tits away. “God, baby, these all for me?”

“Mhm,” you him as he wraps his hand around the weight of one breast, thumb teasing your pert nipple.

“Tell me somethin’,” Joel asks, “why’d you bring all those boys around when you knew you needed a man?”

You lick your lips. “Didn’t know if the only man I wanted would want me back.”

Your voice is small and vulnerable as you say it, and that just won’t do. “Don’t just want you, baby. Need you.”

Your face lights up in the brightest grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby. Need you so fuckin’ bad,” he tells you, digging his fingers into your hips. “S’why I had to play dirty.”

Your smile turns downright salacious. You drop to your knees, running your hands up his thighs. “Show me how much you need me, Joel.”

________

Joel shoves his boxers down, exposing his cock to your hungry gaze. It’s gorgeously thick, the head a dark red from his arousal, a pearl of precum sitting in the slit. You lean forward and dart your tongue out to gather it.

“Don’t tease, sweetheart,” Joel says through gritted teeth. You keep your eyes fixed to his as you take him in hand, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head before taking him further into your mouth.

His hand is instantly in your hair. Not pressing, but his fingers tangle in the strands and tug deliciously against your scalp. He moans as you take him as far back into your throat as you can manage.

“Fuck, your mouth is better than I ever dreamed,” he says, voice rough.

“You’ve thought about this?” You ask when you draw back for breath, hand pumping his length in place of your mouth.

“‘Course, baby. These pretty lips wrapped around me, beggin’ for me to make them all swollen and used,” he says, standing and bringing a thumb to your lips and swiping it across their spit slick surface. “Open up.”

He uses his thumb to press against your bottom lip, opening your mouth as he takes his cock in hand and feeds it slowly between your lips. The smooth, hot length of him dragging across your tongue makes you moan.

“You like that, baby?” He growls, pumping his hips in shallow thrusts. “Like me usin’ your mouth how I want?”

You try to nod, your movement restricted by the grip of his hand that’s returned to your hair. There’s spit trailing down your chin and tears gathering in the corners of your eyes from the effort of keeping your mouth open for his thick length. You know you must look like a mess but with Joel staring down at you with his lust drunk expression, you feel on top of the world.

“I gotta fuck you, baby, will you let me, huh? Let me feel that pretty little cunt strangle my cock?”

You hum around his length and he withdraws, tugging you up by your hair and pulling you into the dirtiest kiss, all tongue and teeth and blatant desire as he turns your bodies, shoving you down onto the bed.

Joel slips an arm beneath your low back, using it to pull you up the bed as he crawls on to join you. He positions himself between your legs, tearing the soaked fabric of your panties down in a frenzy.

He slides his fingers through your wetness before bringing them to his lips, sucking them into his mouth with a groan.

“Christ, I’m gonna feast on you for hours, baby, but I wanna fuck you so bad,” he says.

“Then fuck me, Joel, please,” you beg, lifting your hips so that his cock slips through your center. “Come on, wanna feel you.”

He lines himself up, pressing into you with a delicious stretch, the slight sting of it making you whine. He shushes you, not stopping until his hips press against the back of your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ my cock like you were made for it,” he says, leaning forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making him go impossibly deeper. “Tell me when I can move, sweetheart.”

You shift your hips restlessly beneath him. “Please move, Joel, wanna feel it.”

Joel pulls back before slamming forward, the force of it making you slide up the bed as all the air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. His grin is sharp as he does it again and again to the tune of your desperate cries.

“Joel!” You cry, clawing at his back with each thrust. “Fuck, yes, yes!”

He withdraws abruptly, the loss of him as you clench around nothing making you whine pathetically. With a bruising grip on your hips, he twists your body until you’re on your belly, ass in the air and chest pressed to the mattress.

Joel slides back inside your tight heat, a palm slapping across one cheek then the other as he resumes his powerful thrusts.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re so goddamn tight,” he growls. A hand presses to the back of your neck for leverage, changing the angle yet again. “Can you cum for me? Can you soak my fuckin’ cock, baby, I bet you can.”

You nod, the movement restricted, but you can’t form words. All you know is the feeling of Joel pounding into your body like he owns it.

The hand on your hips moves to the front of your body, fingers finding and pinching your clit. You sob against the mattress, the sheets wet beneath you from tears and drool.

“Come on, baby, fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Won’t fill ya up until you do.”

That’s the visual that does it. The thought of Joel finishing with you, inside of you, dripping out of you too much for your lust addled brain. With a shout, the thin remnant of your control snaps and you pulse around him.

“Fuck yes, that’s it, sweetheart, good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, his hand leaving your neck as he sits up, his tempo fast and sloppy as he chases his release through yours. “You want me to cum in this tight little cunt, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you manage to slur, muffled by the sheets. With three more harsh thrusts, he does as promised, spilling inside of you with a shout.

He slows before withdrawing, your body collapsing against the mattress without him there to hold you up. He chuckles as he flops beside you, dragging you into the cradle of his body.

“You done playin’ games with those boys?” He asks, smiling smugly against your neck.

“Yeah, think I might be into older guys,” you tease. He pinches your hip, making you laugh.

“See if I ever help you during trivia again.”

________

Joel’s standing in front of you, arms crossed with a scowl on his face as you stare up at him with pleading eyes.

“Come on, baby, help me out,” you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes.

“Last call for an answer to our final question! What is the only song credited to all five original members of the band Fleetwood Mac?”

Joel sighs, biting back his smile. “The Chain,” he tells you. You scribble the answer, running your paper up to the emcee. When you return to the bar, you lean across the polished surface and tug him towards you, planting a kiss to his lips.

He drags you back for another kiss. And another.

“Anytime, darlin’.”

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow

Join the tag list here!

[ch4nb4ng]

Marital Duties

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Word count: 9.4k

Genre: Established relationship, married

Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise

Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.

Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs

Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.

Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so. 

The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger. 

Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.

That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.

The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.

These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.

“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”

Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd  grow up to be a beautiful woman.

“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”

“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”

“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”

Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.

“Let me call you back at 15.”

You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.

The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered. 

“Hey baby.”

“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.

“She was out like a light.”

“I’m glad.”

“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”

You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.

“Y/n, Y/n?”

You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.

“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”

“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”

“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display. 

“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”

A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest. 

Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.

“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”

“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”

Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then. 

But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.

“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”

“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”

Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.

“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”

“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh. 

***

The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.

A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:

[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.

*one attachment*

Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.

“Everything okay back there?”

“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”

“We are at the airport, miss?”

His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.

Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.

But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.

[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.

*one attachment*

Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.

**

It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.

The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.

Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision. 

“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”

The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed. 

“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”

The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything. 

“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”

“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”

Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.

“You okay babe?”

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”

“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”

“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”

He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child. 

“I got your text message this morning.”

Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of. 

“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”

He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth. 

“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”

“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”

Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child. 

It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.

When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.

“Babe, what has gotten into you?”

Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded. 

“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”

A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more. 

“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.” 

“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?” 

Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly. 

The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.

Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.

“Chan.”

“Y/n.”

“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.

“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”

“And keep it that way.”

“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.

“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”

Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.

“You’re not happy to be home?”

“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.

A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:

Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!

I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents. 

We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.

I'll see you when I’m looking at you.

Dad

“Chan!”

Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself. 

“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”

Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one. 

“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”

“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.

“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”

“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”

“You weren’t?”

“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”

Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.

“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”

There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples. 

“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers. 

Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific. 

In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice. 

“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”

“What was that?”

He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.

“You taste so good.”

He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.

“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”

His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.

“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed. 

“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”

Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”

“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”

It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal. 

Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.

“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”

“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”

God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.

“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.

“Yeah baby?”

“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.” 

Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen. 

“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”

“Really?”

His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”

“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”

“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge. 

“Chan?”

“Y/n, you okay baby?”

“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”

“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”

“Yeah?”

“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”

“Mhm, all yours.”

Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”

“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”

“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”

“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”

Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.

“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”

He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.

“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”

“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”

You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.

“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”

“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”

[fxirysforesight]

Future Career Pick A Card

Directions: Take 3 Mindful Breaths and Pick The Work Set-Up That Attracts You The Most!

Disclaimer: This is a general reading. It may not resonate for everyone and that's okay! If you are having trouble choosing a pile, take a minute to relax and then try again.

Pile One:

What Career Path Is Pile One Looking To Go Into?

Judgment, 9 of Cups, 4 of Swords

I feel like this is my Legal Studies, Politics, and Healthcare Pile. A lot of you are looking to go into Law or careers where you feel as though you are doing the right thing. You may want to go into careers where you are representing people or being a voice of reason for someone. You all seem to be problem solvers or at least interested in conflict-resolution based careers. Those of you who chose this pile are probably all or nothing people. I don't think a lot of you have any Plan B's or C's. You probably decided very early on what you want to be or do and that's what your heart is set on. You are looking for a career that has everything that you want. A career that fits your wants and needs and is a source of fulfillment for you is ideal Pile One.

These Are Some Careers I See You All Looking To Go Into/Be: Lawyers, Judges, Administration, Healthcare (Doctor or Nurse, a Veterinarian as well), Legal Work, Therapist (Mental Health, Massage, Etc.), Yoga or Meditation Instructor? For some of you, I see jobs where you are the Middle Man like for example a Hiring Recruiter.

What Career Path Is Best For Pile One?

8 of Cups Rx, The High Priestess, Strength

Pile One, you need to go into a career path that you know you won't walk away from. A career path that is sustainable for YOU. Regardless of the pay or whatever other constraints there may be, you need to find a job that satisfies your soul and not just your financial or social needs. I said before how I think that you all may enjoy conflict-resolution careers. It would be best for you all to find a career from which you can learn from or solve problems within. You would likely excel in careers that involve caring for someone or something in some way, shape, or form.

These Are Some Careers I Think You Would Excel In: Healthcare (Doctor, Nurse, Vet, Psychiatrist, Psychologist) Detective Work, Professor or Teacher, Guru, Counselor, Medium, Psychic, Astrologer, Tarot Reader.

Significators: French, Frenchie, or French Tips, Aries, Spring Months (March, April, May), 20+, Dyed Hair, "Not Yet", 444, Libra, 7th House Placements (Specifically Mercury and Sun), Strong Pisces, 12th House Sun or Moon, Moon and Neptune Dominant, Leo or 5th House Placements.

Pile Two: (This Pile was very similar to Pile One. If you felt drawn to that Pile go and give it a read and see if it resonates!)

What Career Path Is Pile Two Looking To Go Into?

5 of Swords Rx, The Star, The Wheel Of Fortune

The first thing I saw and heard was "Giving Back". This is my Humanitarian pile. A lot of you are likely studying or wanting to study Humanitarian Studies. You likely find yourself leaning towards careers or social endeavors that benefit not only yourself but the rest of the world as well. Your ultimate goal in a career is overcoming challenges, compromising or ending a conflict of some sort. You all want to change the world and give the up and coming generations inspiration and hope for a better world to live in. You want renewal. A fresh start.

These Are Some Careers I See You All Looking To Go Into/Be: Public Service, Tech and IT Jobs, Motivational Speakers or Anything To Do With Public Speaking, Freelancers or Non Contract Workers, Nonprofit Organization Workers, Health and Safety Professionals, Human Rights Activists, Scientists, Researchers, Entrepreneurs, Advocates, Social Workers.

What Career Path Is Best For Pile Two?

The Emperor, 4 of Swords Rx, Ace of Wands

Pile Two, you need to go into a career path where you have the opportunity to lead. A career path that offers you stability and structure. A career path that is practical and logical according to your own needs. All jobs will make you feel stress, but I would advise you to enter a career that provides you with the sanctuary you need to rest and recuperate. I feel like those of you who chose this pile get tired or burnt out pretty quick? Extroverts with low social betteries? It would do you well to enter into careers that you see yourself building a future off of. Additionally, for some of you I think jobs that are more hands on and interactive would be better for you. Careers that provide you with passion, action, and excitement!

These Are Some Careers and Career Titles I Think You Would Excel At: Self Employment, CEO's or Bosses, Government Based Careers, Entrepreneurs, Engineers, Military, Managers, Administration, Manual Labor, Tech and IT Jobs, Freelancing, Careers That Allow You To Travel, Sports or Athletics. This Pile has a VERY strong Masculine Energy. A lot of you may find yourselves in Male Dominated Career Paths, and you may have a lot of Masculine Energy in your Natal Charts as well.

Significators: Aries, Leo, Aquarius, Libra, Spanish, 10th House Mercury, 10th House Uranus, Chart Ruler in 11th House, Air and Fire Dominants, Mars in 1st or 10th, Libra Mercury, Sun-Mars and Sun-Saturn Aspects, 555, Aquarius Midheaven and DSC, Uranus Dominant.

Pile Three:

What Career Path Is Pile Three Looking To Go Into?

Queen of Wands, Queen of Cups, Page of Cups Rx

Creative Workers. A lot of you who chose this pile may have struggles or are currently struggling with finding the career path that suits you. You WANT to do a certain career, but you may think that you NEED to do another career because the career you dream of is unrealistic or out of reach or maybe just doesn't fall into your life plans or budget. You are likely searching for a career that you have an emotional connection to. Although money is important to you, you're not really concerned too much about monetary matters, because you know that you can't be happy in a career that doesn't speak to you. You want a career that you get excited about being able to do, a career that allows you to feel as though you are in control of your own life. A lot of you want to work with kids and young people, I can tell.

These Are Some Careers I See You All Looking To Go Into/Be: Elementary School Teachers, Leaders of Some Kind, Child Counselors, Midwives, Nannies, Children's Book Authors, Music Teachers, Singers, Poets, Interior Design, Home Business (Maybe a Daycare), Family Therapist, Realtor or Real Estate. In contrast to Pile Two, there is a lot of Feminine Energy in this pile. You all may find yourselves in Female Dominated career paths and you may have an abundance of Feminine Energy in your chart.

What Career Path Is Best For Pile Three?

King of Swords, The Chariot, Justice

Pile Three, I would advise you all to go into career paths where you have structure and routine. A lot of you who chose this pile have very strong morals and values with all of this watery energy here. You are kind and empathetic but you are also logical and firm. You would do well in a position of authority, where you are allowed to demonstrate and enforce self-discipline and hardwork. You will likely be known for your candor and integrity in your careers pile three. You value honesty and fairness, and it will show regardless of what path you choose. You would thrive in careers that allow you to teach others about the wonders of the World, whatever that may mean to you.

These Are Some Careers and Career Titles I Think You Would Excel At: Counselors, Networking, Mediators, Influencers, Authors, Motivational Speakers, Auditors, Elementary School Teachers, Family Therapists, Behavior Technicians, Children's' Book Authors, Interior Design, Home Businesses, Real Estate.

Significators: "Soon", Cancer, Sagittarius, Gemini, 20+, Fire, Musician, 10th House Sun or Moon, 1st House Moon, Mercury in 9th House, 4th House Stellium, Water Dominant, Pisces Moon, Cancer Midheaven, Libra, Saturnians.

[yeyinde]

some ideas i'll get to (aka my wips are a revolving door that my sideblog can't keep up with so i'm posting them here so i can hold myself accountable)

hitchhiker au with Simon (the man you ran over and left on the side of the road in a deadly hit and run won't leave you alone; horror)

warden/ward Price (the man who took you in, practically raised you, is getting married. that simply won't do. pseudo father figure, pseudo incest, electra complex; guilt, murder, manipulation, drama, smut)

ward/warden Simon (he wasn't there for you when you needed him the most, but he's here now. he'll make sure your needs are met. all of them; smut, drama)

older neighbour Price (after coming home from college for the summer, you decide to pursue your older neighbour daddy Dom Price in a romance that leaves a bad taste in everyone's mouth; drama, smut)

dad's best friend Price (the joke? you meet a man in a bar. the punchline? he's your dad's friend. a man you grew up with. the unexpected twist? his hand is on your thigh. he still buys you a drink. what are you supposed to do when you've been in love with him since you were sixteen? you go home with him, of course; smut, angst, drama)

best friend's dad Price (armchair psychologists on tiktok could tell you exactly what's wrong with you, you think, as you roll around on his bed, hand shoved down your pants, thinking of him like he wasn't father of your childhood best friend; drama, smut, guilt)

serial killer Price (70s au. he's new in town. strange. but he talks to you, listens. tells you that you're different from the others. but when you start to act just like them, he decides to teach you a lesson in places. specifically, your place beneath him. and if you don't behave, at the end of his knife; horror, thriller; smut)

dog trainer Simon (a vicious dog meets a puppy with abandonment issues. neither see the issue with codependency; smut, toxic relationships)

omegaverse Gaz (after giving Price his happy ending, Kyle decides he deserves one for himself; smut)

dollmaker Simon (all you want is the attention of your god. he just wants her back. so you give that to him; horror, smut)

butcher!Simon (series: mafia "butcher"; you don't question your brother when he sends you to drop off packages to his friends, but when the enforcer for the 141 shows up to teach the little brat selling on their turf a lesson, you realise there's different ways to give away pounds of flesh; slaughterhouse worker Simon just gets out of jail for murder and teaches you how a fielddress a buck. a cute first date if he wasn't holding a knife to your neck; butcher Simon catches a rare fish)

hiking au Soap (they tell you to never hike alone, but when all your friends refuse to go with you, you turn to the internet for help where you meet a man who eagerly agrees to throughhike the Great Divide Trail with you; alone in the wilderness with a man you barely know for eight weeks who seems a little intense. what could possibly go wrong? thriller, smut)

outlaw Price (it's just not in his nature to do anything for free. you should have known that before you asked him, of all people, for help; western, cowboys outlaws and wild west)

priest Price (you find the new pastor drinking whiskey and smoking a cigar by the dock. he finds a gift from god in you: a pretty little wife he gets to pour his faith into; catholicism, religious imagery, bastardisation of religion, smut)

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: I have so many ideas for this series but I can't get too carried away otherwise its gonna end up longer than a book lmaooo, also super random but this idea came to me from rewatching Trent and Robbo’s wingmen episodes and in one of them he goes, “team bonding!” verryyy heavily in his Scouse accent lol

Warnings: fluff, mentions of being overworked but nothing too harsh, general stress, this is a cute one ok ur welcome

Word Count: 2.7k words (10 mins reading avg)

...

“Why you so sour for?”

You glanced up to see your sister plopping on to the sofa, grabbing the TV remote off of the glass table situated in front of you. Her expression was curious, eyebrows raised in an exaggerated arc. You’d forgotten you’d even put a movie on.

Closing your laptop, you ran your palm over the cool steel surface.

“No reason. It’s nearly time to go to bed, what are you doing?” You watched as she navigated the TV menu, opening the ITV app and clicking on Love Island.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me you like that stuff.”

She smirked, not taking her eyes off the screen as the latest episode began to play. “No one likes it, it’s just funny as fuck.”

“Hey, why do we need to swear?”

“For expression,” she replied with a shrug, as if that was a valid reason.

“Express yourself in other ways.”

“Like what?” She challenged, finally looking at you.

You paused, a little stumped. “The world is your oyster, go and find some.”

She snorted, clearly unimpressed with your wisdom. You hoisted yourself off of the couch, tucking your laptop back into your work bag and zipping it up.

Kaia paused the show, turning so her knees were on the sofa, looking over the backrest to see you better. “Fine, but that doesn’t answer why you’re in such a mood.”

“It’s just work,” you admitted, leaning against the counter. Your eyes traced the outlines of your sister’s old drawings hung on the wall. “A lot more pressure than I’m used to.”

Her eyes lit up with youthful curiosity. “How’s the job going? Met any really fit guys yet?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that all you care about?”

“It’s important! C’mon, spill,” she insisted, leaning forward.

You sighed, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “The job is good. Stressful, but good. As for fit guys.. there's.. I don’t know, a few? I’m there to work, not flirt.”

“Sure, sure,” she teased.

You chuckled, tossing a freshly washed blanket you’d just pulled out of the dryer at her. “Oo, thanks,” she said, catching it with a grin.

You rolled your eyes as she sprawled out on the couch, the music of the show coming to life once again.

You pulled the rest of the sheets from the dryer, shoving them into the laundry basket to fold in the morning. As you wiped down the counters and finished the dishes in the sink, your mind wandered again.

Arne, Lee, and the club had all been incredibly supportive since your arrival, but the internal pressure you’d carried from university - to be the best, to never fail - was fading. Wataru, Conor, and Curtis were all doing great.

From your reports, you were instructed to make Trent the priority, at least to gather enough information for a new evaluation.

But how could you do that with a player who seemingly wanted nothing to do with you?

“Y/N?” Your sister’s soft voice calling your name pulled you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” You replied, turning to face the back of the couch.

The show paused again. A beat of silence hung in the air.

“No one’s giving you a hard time, are they?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned, “of course not. Why would you think that?”

“We’re pretty notorious for being hated.” Sadness poked through the tone in her voice.

“Nobody hates us, Kaia. And no one is giving me a hard time at work, I promise.” You tried to sound reassuring. She was a kid and she meant well, of course she did, but she didn’t need to know the full truth. She was your sister, not a therapist.

“Okay. Cause you do know I’ll fuck ‘em up, right?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in amusement. She picked her head up to let you sit then rested it in your lap. You pulled her hairs away from her face, combing them back with your fingers.

“With your swears?” You teased.

“I got a mean punch."

“Which I hope isn’t being put to use, thank you very much.”

“I’m an angel, really.” Which she tried to pull off in an innocent way that really didn’t suit her.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sceptical but smiling.

She chuckled, turning her head to face the TV again.

“Come on, let’s watch this shit show.” You said playfully.

“I thought you said no swearing.” She retorted matter-of-factly.

“That rule doesn't apply to 25 and above people.”

“Let me guess, when you turn 26, that rule’s gonna be extended by a year?” Kaia asked, her lips curling upwards.

“Precisely.” You smiled down at her as she rolled her eyes, playing the show.

Your smile faltered almost immediately. You subconsciously continued smoothing over Kaia’s hair, but your mind was plagued with thoughts about work, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, about him.

...

The first two matches of Liverpool’s season had come and gone in a flash. But, despite in how much of a blur it passed, the level of work every day only surmounted the work of the days before.

But you could take it. If you couldn’t handle psychology, you’d probably be useless at everything else.

The new week began, and the first thing you spotted in the mountain of emails was an update. Your cabinet for the office had arrived, courtesy of the club, who were happy to cover the costs once you'd submitted your request.

You swivelled your chair to face the desk phone, dialling reception downstairs. The phone rang twice before Annika's cheerful voice answered.

"Hello," she said brightly.

"Hey, it's Y/N from upstairs. I got an email saying my cabinet had arrived. Am I okay to collect it now?" You asked, glancing around your office and imagining where the new cabinet would go.

"Oh, don't worry," Annika replied with a smile in her voice. "We'll send someone up to drop it off for you."

"Really? It's honestly no bother," you said, feeling a bit guilty about causing extra work.

"No, I insist. They’ll be up shortly," she reassured you.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," you said, a note of relief in your voice.

"No worries!" Annika chirped.

You hung up the phone, feeling a bit lighter. Come to think of it, you really didn’t fancy carrying a ton of weight up the stairs and potentially embarrassing yourself to any bystanders.

Once you’d gone through your emails, creating your to-do list for the day, you patiently waited for your cabinet to come.

But it didn’t.

You tried to put it to the back of your mind, focusing on ticking off the first two items on your list before your first session. Yet, even as you checked them off, you found yourself glancing at the door, expecting the cabinet to arrive at any moment.

An hour passed, then another, and still no sign of the delivery. The anticipation was starting to wear on you.

You glanced at the clock situated on your desk, wondering if you’d be able to make it back in time for your session with Conor.

But just as you were ready to leave, there was a knock on your door. You walked over to open it, expecting only the Irishman. There he was, but also holding a large brown box with an outline of your cabinet on the front.

“Uh-” You couldn’t register what was happening.

“Mind if we come in? Don't fancy holding this all day.”

We.

You realised you hadn’t responded as Trent lifted his head to stare at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” You opened the door, standing off to the side. You allowed them to come in and they placed the box upright against the wall.

"Annika mentioned she'd send someone up, I didn't think she meant the players." Conor chuckled, motioning to his trusted helper.

"Yeah, well, Brian was going to bring it up but he got busy so reception asked if we could help. We were coming up anyways," he explained.

“Oh. Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice carrying a hint of genuine gratitude. You glanced at Trent, and a heavy silence ensued.

“Yeah, whatever,” Trent muttered, his tone dripping with indifference, leaving almost immediately. You let out a quiet sigh, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Conor, who had been observing the exchange with a wry smile, exhaled through his nose in mild amusement.

“He’s warming up to you,” he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smirk.

“Aw, you really think so?”

“Sure,” he replied with a grin.

“Sit down,” you said, gesturing to the chairs. You both laughed softly as you walked over to shut the door.

Yet, an unsettling frustration gnawed at you from within. Trent had always been distant, but after weeks of being here, he still showed no signs of letting his guard down. You were no stranger to the challenges of being a psychologist, it's not like this was your first job.

But in the past few days, self-doubt had crept in. You wondered if you were even fit for it; maybe the pressures of working for one of the most prestigious football clubs in the country were finally catching up to you and kicking you in the ass.

You shook your head, feigning a smile as you returned to your desk, starting your session.

...

“Is this upside down?” You muttered to yourself, flipping the instructions around again.

What use were instructions if they had no text under them?

You debated calling your dad, but the lecture you’d receive about the hours of manual labour he used to put you through every time a new piece of furniture arrived at the house was not worth it.

“Okay. Wood, screws, knob, cabinet. Perfect.” It was only a small one, so you weren’t worried about the height of it per se, just worried about everything else.

You slumped onto the floor, surrounded by longer and shorter pieces of wood with a bag of screws and one handy screwdriver that you were currently twirling between your fingers.

Just as you were about to try again, a voice broke through your concentration.

“What are you doing?”

You gasped, your hand instinctively going to your chest as the paper floated to the ground.

“Oh my God,” you exclaimed, breathless and startled. “Can you knock next time?”

“I did knock,” Trent replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Did you?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to recall when you heard a knock reverberate through your office.

“No.” He admitted.

You huffed, feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment at falling for his joke.

“Funny.” You mumbled, shaking your head.

To your surprise, he plopped onto the sofa situated by the side of the wall, near the door. Your eyebrows raised slightly.

Trent, sitting on your sofa, in your office, willingly? This was new. Only today, you were doubting yourself if you’d ever be able to get through to him and yet here he was.

You didn’t want to overanalyse the situation but it was hard to ignore the significance of it. Maybe he was finally starting to let his guard down, even if just a little.

There was a strange combination of nervousness and relief running riot inside of you.

Rather than drawing attention to it, you chose to stay focused on the task at hand, wary of saying anything that might reinforce his emotional walls.

“I’m trying to build a cabinet, if you must know.” You didn’t want to sound as annoyed as you were - not necessarily by the man you were conversing with, but more so by the wooden contraption that was puzzling you to your core.

He peered over the armrest, then slowly returned to his original position. “Making a lot of progress, it seems.”

“How nice of you to state the obvious,” you replied calmly, but your mind was racing.

“It’s late, how come you’re still here?” You asked, trying to make conversation. He just shrugged, pulling out his phone from his trouser pocket.

You gave a half-smile. Even if he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, he was still here, and that’s what mattered to you.

Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed by, and you were officially ready to give up. Resting your head against your desk, still seated on the floor, you were on the verge of admitting defeat and calling your dad.

Your attention was diverted by a soft creak from the sofa frame. Trent stood up, and you looked up at him, squinting as the ceiling light shone brightly.

“You heading out?” You asked, your voice tinged with resignation.

He took a small step to the right, blocking the light from hitting your eyes. He glanced around, as if debating something.

His mouth parted slightly.

“Move over.”

What?

“Huh?” you said, bewildered.

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, motioning to the pile of wood still stacked in various directions. “Move.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” He replied blandly, yet still entertaining your conversation. A few weeks ago, he would’ve murdered you.

You glanced down at your cabinet, which was rather resembling modern art, then back up at him.

“Are you suggesting women can’t build things?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tilted his head downward, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Women can. It’s just you that can’t. Wanna disagree?”

Your pressed your bottom lip up to your top, as if you were actually considering the idea. “I’d love to argue, but you’re lucky I’m too tired right now. Maybe come back tomorrow and we can pick up where we left off.”

“Move over or I’m leaving,” he said, a touch more firmly.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You chuckled.

You scooted over, making room for Trent to sit beside you. He settled on the floor, crossing his legs. There was a fair amount of distance between you.

You found yourself stealing glances at him as he took a look at the instructions a few times, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for his unexpected help.

His presence was a welcome distraction.

You couldn’t deny you were entirely useless as he separated the pieces, lining them up to get a full look at everything, ensuring nothing was absent.

“Screwdriver?” He asked for quietly and you cast a quick look around, spotting it underneath a plank of wood.

“Here.” His fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, a touch that you were acutely aware of but one he didn’t seem to think twice about.

Whenever your knees brushed while adjusting the cabinet or while holding it in place, you could feel the warmth of his proximity, which only heightened your perception of him.

After some time, the cabinet stood completed. You couldn’t help but smile proudly at the result.

Trent glanced at your beaming face and quickly looked away, as if unsure how to react. The fleeting moments of physical contact had created a soft tension in the air.

You tilted your head, deciding to tease him while you still had the chance. “Does it look a bit bent or is it just me?”

He barely looked at the cabinet, already ready to fire a response back. “It’s just you.”

You scoffed, your eyes meeting as he extended the screwdriver back toward you. You swallowed as you took it, another brush of hands.

It was brief and unexpected but he too registered it this time. He briefly tensed but stood up quickly after.

You just about scrambled to your feet after him, placing your screwdriver on your desk.

Before he could leave, you called out, “thank you.”

He turned to give you a simple nod, brushing off your gratitude.

“I mean it. Not just for building this,” you gestured toward the cabinet, “but for being here. I’m always happy to see you.”

A silence befell you both, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable as it had before.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how come you came here?”

He thought about his answer for a second, wanting to correctly word it.

“Saw you struggling through the door. Thought you were finally having a heart attack or something.”

You paused for a second, slowly nodding your head. “Couldn’t miss it, huh?”

At that, Trent’s lips curved into a genuine smile as he looked away from your eyes, the first smile you’d seen from him that was actually for you.

It was a subtle, upward curl, softening his usually serious expression.

You mirrored his smile, it was hard not to. Perhaps you’d leaned forward, or your shoulders had finally relaxed, but you weren’t focused on the specifics.

“See you round, psychologist.”

You hummed, afraid that even if you opened your mouth, nothing would come out.

You watched him walk away, your eyes falling to the cabinet against the wall.

Seeing him smile, just smile at you, was a moment you wouldn’t forget so soon. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a flood of relief and hope you’d nearly given up on.

But before you could think about it further, your phone buzzed. It was Kaia, asking when you’d be home.

You hadn’t even realised what time it was.

“Shit.”

…

Part 5

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme

[niniiko]

Astrology Observations

*not a profesional astrologer these are just my personal observations

🎀 Leo risings with Saturn in Cancer individuals tend to not like being the center of attention and actually dislike being in the spotlight, they also tend to be shy individuals (all depends on the different placements!!!)

🎀 You tend to enjoy doing daily activities such as cooking, taking a walk, going grocery shopping etc... with the sign that falls in your 6th house, the 6th house is all about daily activities and collegues so if you have an Aquarius 6th house you might enjoy doing daily activities with Aquarius placements

🎀 People who have a LOT of 5th house synastry might have a very intense yet short relationship and if the south node or moon is also aspecting it they could still miss or remember each other for a very long time

🎀 Scorpio moons always have this darkness in their face, they are very intimidating if they are not speaking or smiling, these individuals also tend to have very dark or bushy eyebrows

🎀 If you have an 11th house stellium you could either be very detached from your friends to the point of ghosting them or very close to your friends to the point of thinking of them as your family, these people usually need companionship to be stable and can get lonely and sad if they don't have friends

🎀 Gemini mercuries always have this high-pitched tone of voice, whenever they talk it seems as if they are smiling while talking and i think it's very very cute

🎀 Taurus placements usually show affection through actions not words

🎀 Mars conjunction pluto individuals have a lot of stamina if they are tired they are quick to recharge energies (depending on the sign and its aspects)

🎀 Pisces placements and their eyes or lips . . . they have the prettiest eyes ever and their lips are either very plump or small but they always have something beautiful to them that may be shape, color . . . (could also apply to people who have pisces degrees 12° 24° in their big three, sun moon or rising)

🎀 Virgo placements (Sun, moon, rising and even virgo degrees 6° & 18°) like to do things correct and perfectly or they rather not do it all, they are extremely perfectionist and if something doesn't turn out they way they wanted they can get pretty frustrated with themselves, this is a reminder to be patient with yourself ♥️

🎀 Capricorn over the 3rd house and the way they are so passionate about their goals and studies??? They are always so hard working and they want to be the best in their class, typical bookworm that nobody talks to and everyone thinks they are stupid but they are actually a smartass

🎀 Unevolved Aries placements find it hard to own up to their mistakes and say sorry

🎀 Air moons are always analyzing every single emotion until they become numb, you are not a robot, you are allowed to feel emotions, they are teachers, pay attention to them

🎀 Libra moon over the 11th house might evade conflict with their friends, they despise having fights with friends

🎀 Cancer mercuries most of the time have such femenine and cute voices

🎀 Scorpio moon with an Aquarius MC (midheaven) could be interested in psychology, this is because Scorpio wants to know everything thats hidden, they want to know the unseen and Aquarius is a very humanitarian sign, they want to help society for the better and with the help of Scorpio they make a very great combination for psychologists or someone whos interested in psychology

🎀 Virgo risings love to look put together and even if they didnt put any effort into their appearance they always seem to manage how to look good

🎀 Earth mars women tend to like doing a natural makeup type of look or they don't wear makeup at all

🎀 If someones rising sign is your venus sign there could be some form of jealousy from the venus person towards the rising sign person, but it could go both ways

🎀 Nobody will understand you better than someone who has the same moon sign as you, you will always feel safe and at home with them, it's like you've known them for forever, people who share this placement usually have a one in a billion type of connection

🎀 You might disagree a lot of times with someone who has their mercury in opposition to yours, you might not share the same views in a topic and it's hard to get along with them

🎀 You look up to someone who has their moon in the sign of your 10th house

[mynameisjag]

Clearing out the WIP folders, have this one that didn't go anywhere.

It wasn’t the first time too curious of outsiders had found them, will not be the last either, which is why there were policies in place for such situations.

At least the…visitors…cause that’s what they were for now, here to see then leaving very soon even if it wasn’t the same way they arrived…at least they were entertaining.

Talia just smiled at the other woman across from her as they enjoyed a morning cup of tea, the red head continuing on and on with her theories and “scientific" findings.

Most were so very wrong but a few conversations in had already proved that their guest were set in their beliefs despite evidence proving otherwise.

The mountain of the man had trapped some of the more unfortunate servants in his own rant, the poor things…

-*-

She missed her son, she missed being a mother…

The duo of siblings were at least more wary of their surroundings…

Danny and Jazz didn’t trust the hospitality, wary and ever watching everyone and everything.

They had potential…

-*-

Danny was staring at her, eyes hard, “Where is my mom?”

“Hmm, dear, there is some tea and fruit waiting for you-"

“Stop ignoring me, where is my mom?”

-*-

Ra’s did a lazy hand wave to show off the room, Jazz didn’t seem impressed.

“Our library is filled with knowledge from around the world, constantly updating, after all, knowledge is power.”

“Is the whereabouts of our parents in there or is that something you already have on hand?”

-*-

The vase of roses like blooms were placed in front of Danny, Talia slightly and amusingly smiling at his paling face.

“The flowers are beautiful aren’t they, a rare and exotic breed, once believed to be extinct.”

“Blood blossoms but…how?”

“Just a little research, they look lovely don’t they, especially when places around windows and doorways, we have a few hidden away in certain rooms to keep there pleasant aroma floating around.”

“What…what rooms?”

“Hmm, mostly the ones near the perimeter, we haven’t moved into the inner sanctuary yet, don’t want anyone from within to get sick do we?”

“…no…no we don’t…”

-*-

Ra’s took a sip off his tea, casually watching Jazz silently shake with rage.

“You are very perceptive, now we will begin lessons in utilizing that.”

“I just want to be a psychologist, I want to help people…not this…”

“To help them, you must first break them down.”

-*-

“Danyal, your grandfather is expecting us soon, your sister will be joining as well, it has been too long since we have enjoyed a family meal together-"

“Stop it! My name is Danny, Danny Fenton, my mom is Maddie Fenton and my dad is Jack Fenton, you are not my mother, that man isn’t my grandfather!”

“…it seems that we need to increase your training, perhaps helping with the gardening will quell your temper.”

“…I…my apologies Mother…”

“Hmm. I expect you'll be on your best behavior then, Danyal.”

“Yes, Mother.”

-*-

“You did well in this lesson, Jasmine.”

“You poisoned the tea and had me guess which one was the safe one…”

“And you recognized the smell and avoided it.”

“There are two others dead…”

“They should have noticed this was a lesson, assassination could come at any time from anyone, by tea or…by a slow drawn out poisoning by one's home environment…”

“My parents weren’t poisoning us!”

“Now we both know that isn’t true, your Mother just had you and brother start your resistance training.”

“That's not-"

“You can continue on and risk punishment or take your earned reward and enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

“…yes…Grandfather...”

-*-

“This is Danyal. Forge him, bring him to his full potential.”

“By your order, I shall make him into a weapon worthy of your legacy.”

“I expect that and more.”

-*-

Talia couldn’t help but hum happily to herself, perhaps there was something to her beloved’s habit of taking in strays.

There wasn’t the consequences of ones own blood being of failure and any misgivings could be deducted towards past raising.

Really, those Fenton's were clearly unaware of the potential they had on their hands, it was fate that brought them here.

“Danyal, Jasmine, my dears, I believe you both have earned rewards for your recent accomplishments, a believe a trip to see your brother is in order.”

[gublersg1rl]

cw: feminism rant, smut, sex, misogyny, porn etcetc

note: i’m not the best writer or very articulate… and i’m dyslexic LOL i hope this is understandable it’s kinda all over the place i fear

Once, I saw a woman on Instagram criticizing the porn industry, and I immediately knew there would be some man in the comments getting defensive. What I didn't expect to see was a man who wrote, "Women criticize porn as if they don't write about having sex with fictional men."

As someone who despises the porn industry but actively reads smut, id argue that women writing smut is a direct effect of the ways porn has impacted women's sexual expression.

Why do women choose to sexually express themselves through fictional characters and celebrities? If a teenage boy wants to have sex, he's just being a boy. If a teenage girl wanted to have sex, something had to have happened to her. That's concerning. Men can have a lot of sex. He's a man. Of course, he's going to want to have sex. Women can't have sex; women having sex is slutty. Nobody likes a whore. Blowjobs? That's normal. Eating a girl out? Don't be gross. Thats disgusting. Women can't sexually express themselves without being judged in society, but you know who won't judge them? People they understand they have no chance with, like celebrities and fictional characters. This is why a lot of queer men also partake in "fangirl" culture because queer sexual expression is also shunned in society, so there has to be some sort of outlet.

This brings me to my next topic, the difference between porn and smut. They're not different in the way porn was made for men by men and smut was made for women by women. If I went on pornhub, the first thing ill see is, "Big tits virgin teen girl gets choked out by massive 10-inch cock." Women aren't equal to men in porn. Porn makes women objects; in porn, women's sexuality does not exist. Women don't have sexual needs outside of what the man wants. Once, I heard someone say, "In a pornsick culture, women don't have sex; they perform it." Meanwhile, in smut, it's the opposite. Even if the writer is writing with sub and dom dynamics typically, there will always be an underlying sense of trust, with moments of obvious consent, whether that is verbal, a touch, or a glance.

This isn't to say women don't write about rough sex. They do. There are so many fics that involve extreme kink aspects, but more times than not, there will be that trust and consent.

But what if there's not? I've seen it. if you read smut, you've probably seen questionable tags, too. It's important to mention that just because mostly women write smut, there are straight men who do it, too. I've read smut, which was painfully obvious it was written by a man. That being said, women also write questionable... smut. Going back to my most recent statement, women are shown and taught that they are objects. So it's not completely absurd to say you will find smut written by women that objectifies them; when you condition someone to an idea, it's hard to unlearn that. It's hard to understand sexuality as a woman when society is telling you not to be slutty but to also submit and to perform for a man and his sexual needs because in a man's world, his sexual needs, by default, are your sexual needs.

Is smut damaging to women? Well, I'm not a psychologist. I'm just a nineteen year old girl who likes to read smut about Spencer Reid and is also a feminist. So, I do not know how qualified I am to answer this question, but what I will say is I think that as long as women are not writing smut and portraying themselves as sexual beings living for the sole purpose of men.... smut is a perfectly healthy way to express sexuality :) all in all porn is fucking scary, and so is men and sex and being intimate it’s all really scary but smut is an easy way to express your sexuality in a safe anonymous space.

[inferno-0]

Sorrow / All Titans x reader / (Headcanons)

────────────────────────────

Your sad mood greatly affects the Titans. Let's see what they will do in such situations

Sorry for the English

────────────────────────────

Godzilla

* I think he will cheer you up in every way. Starting from a gentle poke of the muzzle in the back and ending with swimming on the ocean in order to somehow develop your head, clouded from despondency.

* If you do ask to be alone while he is trying to calm you down, he will do it. Of course, the Titan will not take its eyes off you.

* In another situation, when you

want to share your problem, then Godzilla will listen to you carefully.

Although he doesn't really understand human problems and how big they are for you, he will still try to give you the best advice.

* Or you can make it simpler. Take a nap with him in the colosseum. In the event that helicopters infiltrate the lair, its tail will push them out of the way if a warning growl does not help.

Mothra/Mosura

* With this Moth, we can already consider that all problems are solved. It understands the magnitude of your burden, soothing you with a soft chirp that caresses your mind.

* Go to her for advice, as if to a psychologist. But you don't need any money or anything else for this.

Just give her a happy smile.

* Mothra, the whole personification of her own Mother. Do you want a hug?  A kiss on the back of the head? Anything, sunshine.

The main thing is your joy at the moment.

Because it hurts her to watch your sad face, from which bitter tears are almost dripping.

* But if you need solitude and just to reflect on yourself, she will give it. Just don't draw harsh conclusions.

In any case, stay with her and share everything that disturbs your soul.

Rodan

* I don't think that you can somehow come to despondency with him. Joke after joke and all despairs are forgotten in an instant.

* You automatically develop laughter at the sight of him. Even if he does something normal for both of you, you still giggle quietly.

Rodan is too charismatic, that's all.

* But if you're really desperate, which even Rodan can't remove. There is already an emergency here. Titan panics and just doesn't know where to go. Since he is not too good at advice and in the end you have to calm him down, not you.

Which makes you really laugh.

* This Kaiju is not stupid enough to raise his problems above yours. He will remember the moments and words you said during his bad mood. How they supported and praised.

But there are great difficulties with the council.

* Rodan still wants to help you, despite his flaws, which he hides behind a wall of humor.

King Ghidorah

* First of all, who? And secondly, who to destroy? Such questions haunt you when these Three notice your depressed mood.

Ni intends to kill those offenders in the same way as Ichi, who can't see your sad face. These two do not seem to understand at all what to do, except for bloody murders.

If only Kevin purrs your side in his own way, trying to cheer you up.

* When they find out your reason for being sad, they are a little confused. Especially because there is no such person who has morally ruined you. It's just your problem that ruined your mood.

* But. These three are ready to listen to you at any time. And it doesn't matter if it's a big problem or a stupid one. Just cheer up with the cold breeze around Ichi's neck and fly to create storms over cities, spilling out emotions.

The rest will pass.

* Although they are cruel, they have interesting ways to send joy.

King Kong

* He knows how to support. Of course, he also does not understand half of it, but he gets away with saying something nice about you.

If it weren't for Jia...

Which also once, no, still supports him in certain situations.

* Kong can also pat you on the head, although it is more like ruffling your hair in different directions, from which you have to spit out.

But this is not bad, it lifts the mood.

* If you need to be alone, then good. He understands this and knows what it is like to want to be alone for a while. Just be careful.

* Kong is also good at advice to some extent. The main thing here is for you to understand what this Titan is trying to convey to you.

Shimo

* This girl already understands everything and accepts all your heavy burden. Your sad mood greatly disturbs this Titan, she just can't help but turn

* But sometimes you are ashamed to talk about your problems, given the situation in which your companion found herself. Moreover, she was able to survive it and walks around with a fresh memory about it.

* Her eyes are too charming... Especially the muzzle, which leans to the side in an interesting way. You just can't keep sharing your problems when you have such a miracle in front of you. All thoughts just float behind your back.

* Shimo gently nudges you to the side as a sign of support. Convincing that all problems will pass over time, the main thing is not to go down and not to lose self-control.

* If everything is really bad for you, then she will allocate a whole day and night for you. Share, complain. Whatever you want.

She will listen to you attentively, purring.

────────────────────────────

[perseephoneee]

Okay, so I was thinking Hope Mikaleson x Reader. Where they are in a relationship. Where Hope was fighting and kill supernatural people and I forgot to mention that she turned off her humanity. Season 4. She left Salvador school and now she came back to surprised everyone but she sees Reader who was depressed because she was mad at Hope for leaving her and she expected her to be happy but no she was angry at her. Reader walked out not caring and Hope followed her. When Reader screamed at her for leaving, Hope turn her humanity back on and she broke down.

Fluff at the end but angst at the start.

cruelty (hope mikaelson x reader)

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

omg i hope this is kinda what you wanted?? i wrote this during class.

It felt unfair for the outside to be sunny and for the fall leaves to twinkle in the light. The sounds of children's laughter echoing, or even the footsteps in the hallway with hushed conversation. You bury your head deeper into your pillow, letting the covers hide you away. Your bed has become a cave of solace. Your mind was a prison of your own design. 

You need to scream. You yearn to be heard. But no one can soothe you; no one bothers. Your heart feels perpetually heavy, this anchor dragging it deeper into your soul. You can't remember the last time you woke up without screaming, your voice raw and scratchy. Any psychologist would say you're depressed. You know what the other feeling is, though— guilt.

You couldn't stop it. You couldn't save her. The woman who changed every ounce of your being, who altered the course of your life in a single smile. She left. You were alone.

Everyone had tried to console you. They brought you meals and whispered niceties. They gave you time to process and to heal. But underneath that sorrow was a boiling, glistening anger.  You rolled over to scream at your ceiling.

"Fuck your, Hope Mikaelson."

"Is that really the welcome I get?"

You sat up, believing the phantom at the door to your bedroom to be exactly that— a ghost. Except the way she leaned against your doorframe, all ego, that was corporeal.

"Hope," you say, brows furrowed. She smiles, no humanity in her eyes.

"I was going for some more fanfare," she stepped into the room. You forced yourself to not recoil. Or to launch yourself out of bed and hold her close. "This, my dear, is wholly disappointing." 

"Disappointing welcome for a disappointing person," you respond. No reaction. You wonder how deep you'd have to swim to find where her soul is.

"Venom doesn't suit you."

"I grew up," you tilt your head, taking her in. All black, every part of a viper and not the warm individual you initially fell in love with. "You should leave."

"But I just got here," she mopes. "Didn't you miss me?"

"Hope, leave," you roll your eyes, getting out of bed and standing your ground. 

"I have things to do, so no, I won't leave."

"Oh really?" You scoff. "All you do is leave; it's what you're best at."

You see a flicker of…something. You wonder if you imagined it. You must've; there's no way she feels anything at all.

"I was trying to be kind, coming to say hello; I guess you don't want that." She pushes off the door, mannerisms presenting an aura of boredom.

"I don't want excuses from a snake," you chortle. "Especially one like you."

"A snake?" She laughs. That laughter doesn't reach her eyes. "That's pathetic."

"Pathetic isn't the half of it," you match her stance. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed. You feel an inexplicable anger. "Pathetic is running away the second things get hard. Pretending to be anything but Klaus Mikaelson's daughter, as if you aren't the product of the cruelest man in history. When you look in the mirror, do you see any of your mother? Or has she run away from the woman you've become?"

You don't remember feeling angry before, but you feel this anger now.

"I loved you, and that was a mistake. Cruelty suits you. Your heroism was nothing but a facade to hide the coward within. When you snapped Lizzie's neck— was it because you started to realize she was better than you? Did you feel threatened by the fact that you mean nothing in the grand scheme of things? Are you really still that insecure?"

You realize you're being cruel. But god, she's been cruel. And you are so so tired of pretending to be okay with it.

"I am happy you are the devil. It makes it easier to leave," you step towards her, standing face to face. There's that flicker again. "I'm done with you. Now…get the fuck out of my room."

You shove past her, marching down the hall in nothing but a ratty t-shirt and a pair of plaid pajama pants. You look like a mess (you feel like a mess), but standing in the same space as Hope was too hard to bear. Being cruel felt good…it felt like a release. 

The world is spinning as you stumble into the bathroom. The tile is cold beneath your feet, and your hands brace the sink as you suck in deep breaths. You have no clue when you started crying. You turn on the sink and splash cold water on your face, trying to steady the sobs that are consuming your entire being. It's so hard to breathe. You don't remember how to.

You sink to the floor, curling up into yourself as you bury your head in your knees. You feel a hand on your shoulder, someone pulling you close, and you let them. You are so, so lonely. The scent of roses and vanilla is a familiar one, and you inhale as if it's the last time you'll ever be able to. 

Hope holds you until you're done crying, and when you finally pull away, you narrow your eyes in hesitation. 

"I never expected you to call me cruel," she whispers, and she seems different. She looks like the Hope you knew. The one you fell in love with, that was your best friend before she became more. The light in her eyes reflects her humanity. "I didn't realize how much it would hurt."

"I didn't mean—"

"You did," she sighs. You wish she could be more angry with you. "I don't blame you."

"I was just so angry—"

"And I was mean," Hope laughs as a tear drops from her eye. You rarely see her cry. "It was easier to hide than it was to be strong. I'm…sorry for hurting you because of it."

You wipe her tears with your thumb, cradling her face. Her skin is smooth to the touch. 

"Are you back?" You whisper. She looks at you, brows furrowed, before nodding slowly. Almost as if she's afraid to admit it. You let out a choking laugh, kissing her with all the love you'd held in for the months she'd been gone. You kiss her cheeks, nose, lips again, everything you can touch. She laughs, something light and airy that you didn't realize how much you missed. You pull back, holding her at arm's length. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."

"I won't," she says, kissing your cheek. "I promise."

[sunnyaalisse]

Wanna know how to manage anxiety effectively? (I'm a psychologist) Formulate your anxious thoughts in a form of "What Will I Do if X happens?" and then answer as best as you can. You will find that there are 4 main types of situations your anxiety might be asking about: 1) nonsensical, unlikely, useless (WWID if I get kidnapped by a UFO?) 2) rational, predictable (WWID if I get a bad grade?) 3) rational, unpredictable (WWID if I go to a new job and something bad happens?) 4) unpredictable and uncontrolled (WWID if I get attacked on my way home?) Here's how to deal with each type: 1) unlikely, useless, nonsensical? answer it like the person who's asking you this question is a 13 year old child who's trying to annoy you. "that would suck, Timmy, but it sure would make a cool story that I would tell to anybody who would listen if I survived" 2) rational, predictable? make a date with this question. find time to sit down and legitimately think of a plan on what you're going to do. "I'll go talk to the teacher, ask what I can do to improve my grade, then I'll talk to my friends and ask them to explain the topic to me, then I'll talk to my parents and explain the situation if they're interested in hearing about it" 3) rational, unpredictable? you don't have to answer it in a detailed way, just decide on the first few things you will realistically do in any sort of distressful situation. "I'll call my friend and tell them about my situation, then I'll buy myself some ice-cream and figure out my next steps with the help of relevant people, google and determination." 4) uncontrolled? plan for what happens after the part you can't control, once you're in charge again. "I'll call the police, I know where the nearest hospital is, I have my friend's numbers memorised so I'll call them, either way I'll deal with whatever happens once I'm in control" anxiety related to the events that already happened (I said "you too" to the waiter who said "have a good meal") truly means to ask about either the consequences (what if now they think I'm dumb?) or the repeating of the situation (what if I do it again?). you can still reformulate these questions the same way: "WWID if they treat me like I'm stupid next time I'm there?" and "WWID if I say the same thing again, how can I make it charming?" or "WWID to avoid repeating the same situation again, what can I say instead?" anxiety is a mechanism that means to fill the gaps in a person's perception of their future, it seeks clarity, stability, normalcy and control. It doesn't need to clarify IF the situation will happen, it needs to clarify how the situation will be DEALT WITH if it does happen. unanswered "what will I do if..." questions tend to become a broken record because the need for clarity is not fulfilled. more often than not if the needs for clarity and normalcy are fulfilled, anxiety lets up. even questions like "WWID if I die?" can be answered: "if there's an afterlife I'll try to punch god" or "I'll ask if they have soda here" or "if there's no afterlife I'll do nothing, but the world will go on without me, complex, busy and beautiful" also, since anxiety can be caused by physical factors like exhaustion and overuse of caffeine, dealing with these factors could be very helpful. this type of anxiety doesn't come from the mind, it comes from the body, so grilling yourself with questions won't help in this case. rest, nourishment and sleep will do a lot of good though.

[its-time-to-write]

hi i love your work.

can i get touch deprived reader with jamie or roy

you totally can! It just comes at the low, low cost of way more words than you bargained for. Fair warning, Jamie isn’t even introduced for a good solid chunk of the first half. I also have been touch deprived so this is based on personal experience lol.

I feel like I let this get away from me in the same way the Vienna fic got away from me😂

sinking into your worn out mattress

It’s the same routine every day.

Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, make dinner, fall asleep, repeat.

It’s not a bad thing, necessarily. You’re nothing if not efficient, maximizing your time to the best of your abilities. It’s not the most glamorous thing in the world, but you enjoy it. You’re lucky enough to be working on your supervision hours under a renowned psychologist, Dr. Fieldstone in London, and it’s paid. Over half the people in your cohort are struggling through unpaid internships and juggling a second job just so they can make ends meet. You’re all propelled forward by the promise of better pay as soon as it’s all over, dreaming of the days you can own your own practice.

You’re not even sure how you landed this internship, as Dr. Fieldstone rarely ever takes on interns. (She’d tell you later it’s because she saw the same potential her supervisor saw in her.) But you have it, and you’re now assisting her in her on-location therapy to various sports teams. You’d been at a rugby club for a few months, but now it’s time to move on. Dr. Fieldstone was asked to come back to a previous club and although she’d never admit it, you know it was her favorite group to work with. It’s the only club who’s picture is on her desk. It makes you smile every time you see her surrounded by a rowdy-looking group of footballers and two very American coaches. She had said that the one with the mustache was no longer at the club, but the bearded one still was along with the angry looking man to the side and the short, grey-haired man.

You’ve seen the photo so many times that you have everyone’s faces memorized. You’re secretly excited to meet the team that made Dr. Sharon (in her colleagues’ words,) loosen up.

You weren’t friends, with Dr. Sharon, never once dropping the “doctor,” that preceded her name, but she would occasionally swing by your standard housing with a bottle of wine after a particularly difficult day. 

“This job can be emotionally draining,” she’d say. “I always wished I had someone there for me at the beginning.”

She rarely smiled or showed outward affection, but you understood that this was her way of saying she cared. 

But now you’re packing up your flat into your car, and headed to your new quarters in Richmond, London.

—

It’s apparent that Dr. Sharon has a strong connection with the players. There are a small few who allow you to run each session, most preferring to stick with who they know. Your days are mostly filled with analyses and treatment plans, with about two real session a week, one with Rojas, D and Maas, J. You don’t even sit in with Dr. Sharon much anymore, as the thought of an observer makes some of the players uncomfortable.  

It’s stressing you out.

How are you supposed to fulfill your hours when you can’t even get consistent sessions?

Dr. Sharon, in her limited kindness, refers you to a friend of hers in town. 

“She runs a small practice and works mostly with women. You’ll be able to keep your housing and fulfill your hours. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You look at her. “Right,” you reply, “because you’re going to have so much time to help me out between all the things you’ve got going on.”

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Listen. Since you’re not my intern, I can become your therapist. I’ll even give you a discounted rate since you’re still interning. We’ll set up weekly sessions. You’ll be fine.”

You’re still not sure. Dr. Sharon can see the apprehension in your face. “Alright,” she says. “If you schedule our sessions in the evening and cook dinner, I’ll do it for free. It’ll be informal, one therapist to another.”

That’s big. She rarely does anything for free. In a moment of boldness, you say that to her face.

She cracks the tiniest smile. “It’s possible that I’ve grown fond of you. And even more possible that I’m addicted to your cooking.”

Huh. You suppose miracles do still happen.

—

Sharon is over for dinner for the third time in a week, and you’re suspicious that she might actually enjoy spending time with you. You’re laughing about some stupid story that happened during a natural environment observation (it involved a slip n slide, an obscene amount of shaving cream, and footballs being thrown at players heads) when out of nowhere you feel tears slipping down your face.

“Oh my gosh” you say while maybe laughing, maybe crying, “I think I’m broken.”

Sharon (she insisted you drop the “doctor,”) asks, “Are you alright?” and you shrug while you begin full-on sobbing.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” you say between gasps. “What the actual heck.”

At that, Sharon grins. You’re retaining some element of your humor, despite actually crying.

“Just go on and fucking swear already,” she says. “I think we’re past a truly professional relationship.” 

You shake your head. “No!” you say. “No, my mum wouldn’t like it.” Fresh tears start to fall at the mention of your mum. Sharon is actually concerned now.

“I’m not sure you’re alright,” she says, and you shoot her a no duh look. “Let’s discuss what might be the root of your issue. Have you been feeling differently lately?”

You’re wiping your eyes and trying so hard to get it together. You’re not even sure what your problem is. You were pretty sure you were doing fine, but you think back to your week. It had been pretty standard, nothing out of the ordinary. You shake your head.

“There is nothing too small to mention. Anything out of your usual routine? Physical discomfort, emotionally-draining sessions?” Sharon asks.

“No,” you reply, tears almost under control. “Wait. Yes.”

Sharon looks at you expectantly. “God, this is going to sound dumb.”

She reaches out to pat your hand. “There’s no such thing as too dumb,” she says in her therapist voice. 

The gesture is so much like something a sister would do. 

“Right,” you say. “Ok. My, um, the insides of my elbows like, hurt? They just feel weird, I don’t know. It started two weeks ago I think and usually I can just pinch them and it’s fine, but that’s the only thing I can think of, I guess.”

Sharon has gone full therapist, and is giving you an analytical look. “Hm,” she says. “Tell me more.”

You shrug. “There’s not much to tell. It’s not like painful, it just feels weird. I hug my pillow when I sleep and that also helps. Um, I push up my sleeves so they go around my elbows and the pressure helps.”

She asks, “When was the last time you saw a friend?” and you can’t think why this is relevant. But you also can’t remember.

“Probably since before I moved,” you say.

“And when was the last time you saw your family?”

You begin to see where she’s going.

“God,” you groan. “I’m an idiot.”

Sharon laughs. “Do you see why it’s so difficult for therapists to self-diagnose? We’re so busy trying to save the world that we forget to save ourselves.”

“But it’s so stupid,” you say. “It’s like, one of the most basic forms of self-care.”

Sharon shrugs. “Touch-starvation is a real thing. It manifests itself in different ways and apparently yours manifests itself in your elbows.”

It’s so ridiculous that you laugh. She does too, and reaches out to squeeze your arm. “I’ll be more mindful of it,” she says. “In the meantime, you need to find yourself some friends. Some people your own age. I’m prescribing you at least two nights out a week.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “I don’t even know where I would go. Or how to meet people. Or what to say!”

“That’s the problem with us therapists,” Sharon says. “We’re really best in a clinical setting. Shouldn’t be let out of the house, really. How about this; next time Richmond has some group event, you come. They’re a rowdy bunch, around your age, too. It’s an incredibly healthy environment, and you’ll be easily accepted. It will be a nice gateway to having a social life. There’s a match this weekend and they’re almost guaranteed a win, so keep your calendar open.”

You open your mouth to protest but Sharon holds up a hand. “I’m prescribing this as your mentor, not as your friend. It will be a healthy change of pace, I promise.”

—

Seeing AFC Richmond in person and off the pitch is like an out-of-body experience. 

You’re putting names to familiar faces, and getting a crash course on their personalities. 

You know Dani and Jan Maas from your short stint as their counselor, and they’ve taken it upon themselves to introduce you to everyone else. Dani is holding your elbow to guide you around to all sorts of people, and you can physically feel the serotonin production in your brain. 

You meet Higgins and his wife, the hosts of this barbecue as well as some of their children. It’s hard to miss them because they keep coming up to shoot Dani and Jan with nerf guns. They’re weirdly prepared, pulling out their own from thin air. 

“Don’t worry,” Jan says, “We’ll defend you.”

It’s very much like a large family gathering. You meet Richard, who kisses your hand and comments on your beauty. Zoreaux, who smiles and asks if you want anything to drink. Bumbercatch, who asks if you can read minds. And finally, Roy and Keeley who are standing in the kitchen and definitely were not kissing right before you walked in.

“This is one of our coaches,” Dani beams. “He and Keeley are very much in love, but they will not admit to  each other, least of all themselves.”

Roy says, “Oi!” while Keeley blushes. Jan shrugs.

“It’s true,” he says. “There is no point in dancing around it.”

“Fuck off!” says Roy, and Jan and Dani are saved from certain death by head-butt as Keeley steps between them and says, “It’s nice to meet you! We’re so glad you could come,” and wraps you in a tight hug.

She’s small, but she’s strong. You have trouble breathing for a moment in the best possible way.

“Heard you work for Dr. Sharon,” she says. “That’s got to be fucking difficult.”

You laugh. “Yeah, but not in the way you’d think,” you say. “I’d already sold my soul to my education long before I met her. She’s actually trying to help me get it back.”

Keeley grins. “Is that why you’re here then? To reinstate your soul?”

You’re cut off from replying by the appearance of someone new. This one is in Sharon’s picture too, standing in the middle slightly to the left and smiling with the tip of his tongue sticking out. You always thought he seemed like one who looked so happy and carefree because he actively chose to be that way.

“Who’s reinstatin’ their soul?” he asks, squeezing in between Dani and Keeley.

“This one here,” Keeley replies. “You met her yet? She’s Dr. Fieldstone’s protégé.”

“Oh,” you say. “No. Not really. I was just doing my internship with her, but I had to move because…” you hesitate.

“Because no one wanted to talk to her except me and Jan,” Dani helpfully fills in. 

Jan adds, “They were all intimidated by the fact that she is close to their age and so beautiful, as well stuck in their ways of having Dr. Sharon. Only Dani and I were willing to give her a chance, and she actually helped me through some important life decisions.”

You had? It hadn’t seemed that way at the time. You feel less crappy about your time at Nelson Road, though. It wasn’t like they didn’t like you, they just preferred to stick with what they know. That, you can understand.

“Mint,” Jamie says. “So you ain’t the team’s shrink anymore?”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Fucking observant, you are. She hasn’t been around in fucking ages.”

Jamie shrugs. “I was just checking!” he says defensively.

You smile. “It’s alright,” you say. “I’m sure you’re busy, and there’s always a lot of people coming and going.”

That seems to surprise Jamie. Almost as if he isn’t used to people defending him. You file his reaction away in your brain, adding it to your collection of knowledge about the football team that made Sharon zip across England for.

—

It’s been two and a half hours, and you’ve have more food and laughter than you’ve had in ages. Dani and Jan Maas had left your circle in the kitchen a while ago, fulfilling their promise to chase around the youngest Higgins boys as well as Roy’s niece Phoebe, and another girl who’s name you didn’t catch. Sam has joined your group now, and he and Jamie are funny together in a way that reminds you of your brothers. They’re constantly ragging on each other, teasing Roy, and throwing things.

Jamie, it seems, is the comedian of the group. You can tell he’s showing off, presumably because there’s a new face. When it’s time to eat, he says, “Stick with me, love, that way you don’t get stuck next to some uncultured animal,” even though Sharon is there and you’d be fine to sit with any of the boys.

But, he’s already grabbed your hand and is pulling you to a spot near Roy and Keeley as Sharon looks on with an amused expression. You send her a single pleading glance (although you’re not sure what you’re pleading for) and she just gives you a shooing motion. She’s happy to sit with Rebecca and her boyfriend. And someone who’s name you’re pretty sure is Coach Beard. 

Ever the gentleman, Jamie pulls out your chair for you before settling into his own. There are tables all throughout the house and a few in the front yard, and you’re glad he picked one outside. It’s a little cloudy, but nice weather.

And god, there are people. People who are talking to you, hugging you, tapping you on the arm and holding your hand, even if it is just to make sure you don’t get separated in the stampede to find seating. Your arms aren’t even a little sore, and you can feel Sharon’s observing eyes on you. You know for a fact she’s going to have a lot to say next time you have dinner, but for now all you can think about is the way Jamie’s arm is pressed against yours, as he leans in to explain a football term that Roy just used to threaten Jamie with.

—

You’re not sure how long this party is supposed to last, but it’s three hours later and there is no sign of stopping. The sun is just barely starting to dip, and time has lost all meaning. You don’t know if the meal you ate was supposed to be lunch or dinner but it doesn’t matter because you’re so full that you can barely make room for the pile of desserts that Mrs. Higgins has pulled out. 

You’ve moved inside now, since Jamie pulled you through the dessert line saying, “You have to come with me, so I can put my dessert on your plate. That way grandad can’t have a fit.” You understand that “grandad” is Roy.

You’re smart enough to notice that Jamie’s hand is in yours at every opportunity he can find, and that he’s still holding it even though you’ve finished your dessert and are flopped on a couch inside. He’s absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumb as you chatter on about nothing. 

“Oi,” he says, when you’ve lapsed into silence, “is this alright?”

You’re not sure what he means until he holds up your still-intertwined hands.

“Keeley says I’m more touchy than most. Don’t want to fuckin’ weird you out or some shit.”

You smile. “You’re fine. It’s actually really nice.” You decide to leave it at that. No point in explaining touch-deprivation to the cute footballer you just met. Talk about oversharing.

Jamie smiles back, a real one that lights up his whole face.

“Mint,” he says.

—

“Jamie’s romantically interested in you,” says Sharon’s voice through the phone.

“How do you know that?” you ask. It’s the morning after the Higgins party and you only have a 2pm session. Sharon texted you to call her as soon as you woke up, so you do and she drops a bombshell on the first ring. You doubt Jamie would have told her this himself, as Dr. Fieldstone isn’t one to break a confidence.

“Basic body language,” she replies. “Repeated physical contact, the way his body was angled toward yours all day, the fact that he went out of his way to make you smile. All classic markers of romantic attraction. Any trained therapist should be able to pick up on it.”

What she means is, you’re a trained therapist. You should be picking up on it.

“There’s no way,” you say, but it comes out more doubtful than you’d hoped. 

“Right,” says Sharon, “there’s no way. In the same way that there’s no way I’m only mentoring you because I see myself in you.”

“Oh,” you reply weakly, because that’s a lot to unpack. 

“Oh,” she mimics. “Right. Well. I’ve got to go. Make sure you remember the mental exercises I gave you. Therapists need to take care of their minds too.”

You say thanks and hang up. 

Oh.

—

You’re home again from your session, and you are tired. It was mentally exhausting and all you can think about are the pair of sweatpants in the drawer by your bed and the box of pizza that should be at your flat in fifteen-to-twenty minutes. That was about thirteen minutes ago, and you’ve just been puttering about since placing the call and changing out of work clothes. 

There’s a knock on the door and you say a quiet yes, before hurrying to answer. You open the door to two people on your doorstep instead of one.

“This your pizza?” the delivery boy asks. You nod, thank him, and hand him the money. He’s gone so you acknowledge the other person in front of you.

“How’d you know where I live?”

Jamie shrugs. “Asked Dr. Fieldstone. She isn’t as scary as she looks.”

“And why are you here?”

You place the pizza down on the small table in your entryway. It hasn’t escaped your notice that Jamie is practically standing in your doorframe now, inches away from you.

He wraps his hands in the front of his shirt. “Isaac was telling me about body science,” he says. “Been teaching me how to read people and shit based on how they move.”

You nod. Body language. Yeah, you know a thing or two about that.

“Anyway, he said you thought I was proper fit. Which is good, because I think you’re proper fit. But, just in case he were wrong, I thought I’d come over and give you a chance to tell me.”

His left hand is on the doorframe now, and you can see the top of his tattoo peeking out from under his bright orange hoodie. There is exactly one inch between you two as he slants his body toward yours.

“You can tell me to bugger off, if you want,” he murmurs. “Won’t hurt my feelings.”

You don’t say anything, just stand on your toes the tiniest bit so he has better access to your mouth. 

You can feel his breath when he pulls away.

“Oh,” he says, “I didn’t come here for sex. Me mum raised a gentleman. I’d buy you a coupla dinners first.”

“Shut up and kiss me already, Tartt,” you say, and he’s grinning, free hand cupping the back of your head.

—

You think that’s probably the fastest you’ve ever gotten into a relationship.

“Labels are important, babe,” Jamie had said that night. “How else will you know if food is poisonous?”

You’re pretty sure he’s talking about checking for allergens, but you don’t correct him. You’re on your couch watching a movie with his arm around your shoulders. He’s playing with strands of your hair and it’s strange that you’re this comfortable with a boy you just met yesterday.

Because he is a boy. You’re the same age, but you feel impossibly, inadequately young. He plays it off as youthful exuberance, and you’re sure it’s an advantage on the pitch. Your age doesn’t feel like an advantage to you, but you can’t change it so you might as well just deal with what you’ve got.

You can be professional in the morning, but right now you’ve got a cute, fit boy who thinks you’re cute and fit and so far has not given off red flags. You’re extra alert ever since your call with Sharon, trying to pick up on every subtlety, but you stop trying as soon as Jamie rolls up a piece of pizza like a burrito and tries to fit it all in his mouth. You know that Sharon would have been the first to tell you if this was a bad idea, and the fact that she even told you Jamie was interested is basically like her giving her blessing.

Jamie leaves too soon, but he does so with your number in his phone and the promise of “a proper date,” as soon as you both can manage.

—

“A proper date,” turned into two proper dates, then three, then four, then seeing each other steadily throughout the weeks, then your first sleepover after the third week. Your skin was all tingly when Jamie invited you over to his for dinner, telling you he was going to cook for you. You knew exactly what was going to happen that night and made sure you were prepared. 

You dressed nice, in clothes that gave him easy access to your skin underneath. 

“Am I rushing this?” you had asked Sharon the day before. “I’m asking you as my mentor. Am I being an idiot?”

Sharon had taken a moment to consider before answering. “You’re smart for your age. And wise beyond your years. I don’t think you’re being an idiot. We can’t let our work consume us, no matter how important it is. You’re a brilliant therapist. You’re always giving yourself away to those around you. You deserve something for yourself, and you know how to pick a good one.”

You hugged her for those words. She seemed startled, but accepted it. You didn’t think life could get much better. 

You were wrong. You discovered life could be so much better the moment Jamie’s hand slid under your skirt and you were kicking off your shoes on the way up the stairs. 

“Stay,” he whispered when you were done. “It’s fuckin’ late anyway. You can use my shower and wear one of my shirts. I have an extra toothbrush. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”

So you’re in one of his t-shirts and your underwear, arms wrapped around Jamie’s waist. 

You think what am I doing? but Jamie presses a soft, sleepy kiss to your temple and you think maybe you’re doing something right.

—

It’s been a hell of a week. You’re swamped, Jamie’s always at training, and neither of you have been able to make the time to see the other in days. Your inner arms are sore again, and your dinners with Sharon have been short and extremely clinical in a way you desperately need. However, once-a-week therapy is not enough to get rid of the feeling you have, and you wake up throughout the night holding your pillow as if it were Jamie. 

You’ve gotten used to having his hand in yours, your head on his shoulder, knees touching and arms wrapped tight around your body. Having it taken away is worse than before, because at least then you didn’t really know what you were missing. Now, you feel as if you’re going to die unless someone does something, even if it’s just a high-five. 

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, one knee pulled up to your chest as you review case notes. Your food has gone cold because all you can do is cry. You’re so tired and so lonely and it shouldn’t be this way, but it is and you’re just over it. There’s a knock at the door so you wipe your eyes and answer it, hoping you look normal.

It’s Jamie.

The moment you register who it is, you’re launching yourself into his arms, wrapping around him like a spider monkey. He laughs. “Hello to you too,” he says, spinning you around. He stops when he feels you shaking in his arms. 

“Oi,” he says, frowning a little, “you alright, love?”

He can feel tears on his neck.

“Babe,” he says, “did something happen at work?”

You shake your head, face still buried into the crook of his neck. “I just missed you,” you croak, voice muffled.

Jamie chuckles at that. You’re lucky he’s strong, because he’s able to carry you to the couch like it’s nothing, kicking the door shut behind him without losing his balance. He settles with you in his arms, rubbing a pattern on your back. 

“It’s alright, love, I’m here,” he says, and you’ve never been more grateful for the fact that he calls you love more than your actual name. It’s like he’s always reminding you how he feels about you.

You just hold him tighter, letting the terrible feeling you had all week fade away. When it’s mostly gone, you pull away so you can look him in the face.

“I- I have this thing,” you say. Jamie looks concerned.

“Are you dyin’?” he asks.

“No!” you reply. “No, I’m not dying. I have- I’m touch-deprived. I let it get really bad sometimes and then I can physically feel it. You can look it up, it’s a real thing.” You don’t know why you feel the need to defend yourself. Jamie’s just looking at you, all quiet seriousness.

“That what it’s called?” he asks. “I know what you mean. Fucking had it two years ago. Used to egg Roy on just so he’d push me around and the lads’d have to hold me back. Wasn’t near me mum anymore, so I didn’t have anyone to hug me or anything. Sounds dumb, but… I just needed someone to touch me. Like if they didn’t, it meant I didn’t exist. Fucking mental.”

“Mental,” you agree.

Jamie smiles. “You’re the fucking best, you know that?” he asks. “I’m never bored when I’m with you. Came over to see if you wanted to watch a movie or play video games.” 

He’s stroking your cheek with one hand, other still wrapped around your back.

You smile back. “I really, really love you Jamie Tartt. I’ll play video games, I just don’t want to play FIFA.”

Jamie’s smile drops. “Shit,” he says, and you think it’s because you don’t want to play his favorite video game. “You weren’t supposed to say it first, I was. I was gonna tell you tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a big deal, babe,” you say.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s a big fuckin’ deal. Now I’ve got to make it up to you.”

“No you don’t,” you say.

“Yes I do,” he replies. “I’m gonna tell you every fucking day how much I love you. I’ll drive home early from away games just to hug you. I want you to always feel like you have the love you deserve.”

You’re at a loss for words.

“Cat got your tongue, don’t it?” Jamie asks cheekily. “Not a problem, babe. I know how to get it back.”