#i'm still stuck in november

[eorzeashan]

me: wtf is 7.2 I thought the big update was in december? a month later right?

my phone: sir. it is december

me:

me: oh

[mortellanarts]

There's at least two prompts on zecret santa this year that are kurashiki sibling post-ztd reunion and I have been trying to write that for chapter two for a couple months now but ZTD logistics are so qwq

[maddy-ferguson]

i was so ahead of the curve the curve became a sphere is literally me i skipped a grade and now my friends from high school are done with school and are getting their first jobs and stuff and i'm in school with people who were born two years after me. like i lost three full years lmaooo

[musiquesduciel]

After much trial and error, I've shortlisted the items that are holy grails in my skincare based on their repurchase pattern.

[homo-house]

hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but

the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago

picture from Folha PE

there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention

I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.

pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)

we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?

while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.

the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!

this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.

I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though

however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.

FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation

Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas

Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly

There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:

Projeto Gari

Caritás Brasileira

If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot

thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows

also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever

[reiderwriter]

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

[sgojoenthusiast]

ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

➸ DAY TEN: THE GAME.

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summary: Eren hate everything about you - from your attitude to your friends and your clothes, he hates you. You make other's lives miserable, and he's determined to put you in your place with an innocent game which results in you having to do whatever he wants for the rest of the night.

CW: fem reader, smut, halloween party, costumes, drinking, beer pong, reader is a bitch like you are seriously unlikeable, like she's a bully & your typical mean girl, masturbation, men being men but only for a sec, reader has to do whatever Eren wants yet the sexual stuff is consensual, spanking, bondage, degrading, eren steals ur thong, public sex, semi-public sex, praise, blowjob, throat-fucking, slapping, choking, biting, humping/shoe-fucking, eren calls you 'princess', no use of y/n.

a/n: so we're a good while into november and i'm just posting my last kinktober post - oops. i've been so busy plus i wanted to wait cus idk if it's disrespectful to the dead to post smut about them (spoiler warning) like right after they died. anyway, i read a book or another fanfic w a similiar plot ages ago and it's been stuck in my head since but i can't rememeber what it's called lol.

word count: 13.7k - if you read this, ilysm.

likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

masterlist.

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Eren couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand the way you thought so highly of yourself or how you’d walk around with your head high and a disgusted look on your face when you saw someone like him. He couldn’t stand people you surround yourself with or how you managed to look so fucking good in every outfit you put on.

He could't stand the raging urge he felt to fuck the attitude right out off you.

On the other hand, you found yourself not looking twice in his direction unless it was to make a snide comment to your friends followed by a mocking laugh before you went on with your day not thinking about him for another second.

Eren, however, would think about that comment for the rest of the day. It didn't upset him, he was by no means offended by your comment. It just shocked him to an immeasurable amount that you were still this much of an impudent bitch in college. Surely you would have managed to grow up a bit after high school, right?

No. Not a single part of you had managed to catch a glimpse of the real world past the curtains of your life as a spoiled, popular, hot girl who thought there was nothing out there more important than money and looks.

In all fairness, both of those things had gotten you everything you had ever wanted, yet in effect, it ruined the lives of the people around you as you dragged them down to build yourself up.

That's why he came to this party, knowing fully well that you would be here. Tonight, he was determined to humble you - make you feel every fraction of hurt and shame you had forced onto other's your entire life.

Eren wasn't exactly popular, which is why he was shocked to have been invited to this party in the first place. He had his small group of friends and he was content with that. Mikasa and Armin were also skeptical of coming, confused as to why Eren was so persistent after he had spent all of his years in high school and the time you had spent together in college slandering your name and every other popular mother fucker - all of them were exactly like you, and all of them were at this party.

He had a slight feeling that it was due to Jean, the host of the party, and his blatant crush on Mikasa - yet she went wherever Eren went and they could always count on Armin to tag along as well, even if it took a lot of persuasion from Eren. Armin was confused why Eren was so persistent on coming, yet he let it go once Eren got defensive when he asked.

It was a halloween party, meaning there were all sorts of costumes to be seen from every corner. Of course, you were all adults now, so instead of anything actually scary there were mini-skirts and shirtless guys wherever his eyes fell. Eren didn’t want to dress up - in fact, he had forgotten completely as he was so focused on coming up with a plan that would land you right where he wanted you, therefore, he opted for a tight black shirt and some baggy pants.

Once his eyes caught yours, he scoffed. You were dressed entirely in black. A black corset decorated with beautiful patterns, a small black skirt (that could have passed as a belt but that didn't seem to bother you), black fishnets and boots that reached up past your knees. Of course, to finish the look, there was a pair of angel wings and a halo that adorned your head. A dark angel, not an uncommon look but considering you were the only one wearing it, it could have passed as that. The reason he had scoffed at the sight of you was because he assumed you must have threatened anyone going for the same look as you in order to assure you were different to everyone else - he couldn't think of you any more highly than that.

He mentally scolded himself for the way his eyes were dragging themselves all over the parts of your body that your costume didn’t cover - and there was a lot of it on display. Your costume left hardly anything to the imagination.

Eren could feel himself hardening in his pants just from the sight of you and he cursed himself internally for it. Why here and why now? Usually, just the thought of you would be enough to rile him up enough for him to get hard but tonight he swore he wouldn’t let his eyes or mind wander.

Quickly, he excused himself, leaving behind a confused Mikasa and Armin. The pair had exchanged glances since they had arrived due to Eren’s strange behaviour - but they chose not to bring it up.

The house was massive, and there were plenty of bathrooms, so nobody should mind if he occupied this one in particular for just long enough to take care of his problem.

His back hit the wall and he groaned in both pleasure and frustration once his hand reached to free his aching dick. He held his shirt up with his teeth and watched as his hand moved up and down his hardened cock.

His breath hitched when his thumb ran across the tip and he threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut in order to help prevent any more noises from leaving his throat.

Eren’s mind wandered to the sight of your thighs clad in those black fishnets and the way your skirt was so short he was certain that if you bent down just a little, he’d be able to take a peek at your ass from underneath. He wanted nothing more than to tear those angel wings right off you whilst whispering in your ear from behind about how much of a dirty slut you were and how there was no place in heaven for such a dirty thing like you all whilst fucking into you relentlessly to the point where you were too fucked-dumb to argue back.

The grip he had on his dick tightened and he shuddered at the feeling, his pace increasing as the sound of him fisting his cock rang throughout the bathroom. He was panting  and groaning, unable to hold himself back for much longer.

What sent him over the edge, was the thought of how well you’d take him because he knew that underneath all the layers of this vain and hateful version of yourself was a slut who was begging to get degraded and humiliated - even if you didn’t know it yet. He envisioned how tightly your cunt would squeeze him as though it was so desperate for his cock and how you’d whine and plead him to stop like a brat but you’d never use your safe word because at the end of the day, you needed him to fill you up. He pictured the cute face you’d make as you came all around his cock, screaming his name and dragging your nails down his back.

Eren wasn’t able to control himself for much longer before let out a strained groan and shot hot ropes of cum over his hand all whilst his grip on his cock never slowed or stopped for a second.

He had spent many nights in this situation - fisting his cock until he was all out of orgasms whilst picturing all the different positions he’d put you in and all the types of punishments you’d have to endure just to get a taste of his dick.

Tonight. He told himself. Tonight he will have all of that - he’ll have you begging for all of it.

Quickly, he cleaned himself up and opened the door, surprised to only find one person waiting who could barely hold himself up which saved him the embarrassment of having to walk out to find a crowd of people waiting.

He rejoined Mikasa and Armin, and began to wait for the perfect moment to put his plan in action.

You, however, were sitting in the living room on the armrest of one of the chairs with your other stuck up, self-obsessed friends, chatting shit about every person under the sun whilst simultaneously insulting each other as subtly as possible. 

You were sitting by Hitch, leaning against her whilst absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as she leaned back and sipped on her drink watching as the people around her tore each other and everyone else to bits.

Hitch had been your one and only true friend - the only one you could securely say you trusted with anything and the only person you would let see through your bitchy facade and the wall of hidden insecurities lying within. The only thing allowing you to act so cruel and heartless towards others was that very wall, the one that prevented people from getting close to you but also letting anything out that may subject you to the same remarks you throw around so casually. In the world of social status, it was kill or be killed - but in more of a metaphorical manner. 

Occasionally, you would chime into the slaughter of other people’s names and reputations, adding your own (exaggerated) experiences and opinions of other people’s lives. 

You stopped paying as much attention when the guys started talking disgustingly about which girls they were planning on fucking tonight - you simply turned to hitch and rolled your eyes to which she laughed. 

“How about her over there?” one of the guys asked, pointing in the direction of a brunette standing awkwardly on her own as she tried to drink her nerves away. It was quite clear she was listening in on the conversation, whether that was involuntarily or on purpose, and the very mention of her caused her to quickly glance at your group before turning her face away - burning a bright red colour whilst looking for a way to escape, yet she was unsuccessful and ended up staying put.

Luckily for her, you gave her her own way of escape.

“Her? No, she’s such a slut.” You said without hesitation because it was what you did. You had walked in on her making out with another guy in the bathroom a few months ago and of course you had to tell everybody about it. “I mean, she can’t keep it in her pants long enough to wait until she’s not in public to fuck her weird ass boyfriend.”

The people around you snickered and the girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. You were being purposefully loud, making extra sure that she could hear you and not feeling an ounce of guilt.

“I mean, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” One of the girls sat across from you said.

You were used to other girls trying to throw passive aggressive comments in your direction, yet it would always end with them knocked out cold or with a broken nose so not many tried anymore - so her blatant rudeness threw you off a bit however you tried to keep your composure. You gave her a tight lipped smile and she stared at you with challenging eyes.

“Sorry, who are you?” you asked, clear malice sewn into your voice.

She laughed mockingly before replying. “Just someone who doesn’t sleep with every guy who gives her the time of day.”

Squeezing your empty cup, you scoffed and got up from your seat, clearly vexed by the comment made yet not quite drunk enough to start a fight just yet. 

What the fuck does she know? People thought of you as a self-obsessed whore, but in reality, only one of those things were true. You had only slept with two other guys, one being your long-term boyfriend and the other being a rebound after your break-up.

As you walked, Hitch called out to you, asking you where you were going and as you turned around to shout back, Eren could feel the excitement growing inside of him at the opportunity that had presented itself - the one he had been waiting for and imagining since the day he first saw you.

“I’m gonna grab another drink.” You shouted back to her over the music, she could barely hear you, but she nodded anyway.

Eren made his way to the path that you were taking and accidentally bumped into you.

Spinning around, you glared at him with nothing but anger and disgust. “Watch where you’re going, freak.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you attempted to walk off from him and make your way to the kitchen. Yet, Eren had other plans.

Swiftly, he grabbed your arm. His hold wasn’t painful, yet it was firm enough that you couldn’t escape it.

He wanted to laugh at the look on your face.

It was one that indicated that nobody like him, nobody beneath you, had ever stood up to you before. Nobody like him had grabbed you before. Your eyes were wide, and if he looked hard enough, he swore he would have been able to see steam coming out from your ears, yet his hold didn’t falter for a second. 

“What the fuck are you doing, perv? How fucking dare you-”

“I want you to apologise.” He started, and that look of amazement on your face only seemed to grow. For the first time in your life, you were utterly speechless.

“What?”

“It wasn’t my fault you bumped into me. You were the one who wasn’t watching where you were going.” His grip around you tightened slightly, causing your face to scrunch up before your lips parted in shock. “Therefore, I want you to apologise.”

Eren’s voice was low and calm, there wasn’t a hint of any pent up frustration hidden anywhere within it. In fact, he sounded like he didn’t know who you were, and to you, it looked like it as well.

After snapping out of your stupor, you let out a harsh laugh at his demand and jolted out of his hold, taking a few steps back. “You want me to apologise? Over my dead body. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You started to recognise him from one of your classes but you refused to portray any sort of recognition in your voice or features, not wanting to inflate his ego any higher or make him feel any more special than he already does just from talking to you. Evan? Ernie?

“Someone who’s not gonna fucking bow down to you and fall to his knees begging for an apology, princess.” Every syllable was laced with sarcasm and there was a hint of resentment in his tone - the latter not being something you weren’t used to, there were plenty of people who hated you in silence because of envy though it wasn’t typically something you heard from guys.

“Are you asking to get your ass kicked, or what? Just because you won't do anything I ask, doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of guys who won't.”

Eren looked down at you with a lazy smirk plastered on his face, and if you weren’t so pissed off at him, you would have been able to recognise the traces of malicious intent hidden behind the green of his eyes - like he was planning something.

And, fuck, was he planning something.

“Fine then,” his head motioned to the table setup with various cups filled with beer. “One game of beer pong. Loser apologises.”

He wasn’t an idiot - he knew you’d refuse to waste your time on a useless apology that you didn’t want all that much and he was the same. There’s no way he’d actually play you just for an apology.

“As if. I don’t want to waste any more time on you than I already have.”

Before you could walk off, Eren grabbed your arm once again.

“Okay… then the loser has to do whatever the other person wants for the rest of the night.”

As he expected, you stopped resisting. It pissed you off immensely that Eren wasn’t the type to just do whatever you wanted, and right now you wanted nothing more than for him to understand his place.

You paused in consideration. If you won, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You didn’t need Eren to be in your corner all night waiting for your command, you had plenty of people who wouldn’t say no when you asked them to do something. The only thing you’d gain is more pride. If you lost, however, you’d have to do whatever Eren says and that would damage your reputation far past fixable. It would be social suicide and you’d never recover from the humiliation. But, you wouldn’t lose, right?

"Fine then," You started, eyeing him up and down as your tongue ran across your teeth. "Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the night. Deal?"

The two of you shook on it, you making an exaggerated gesture of wiping your hand on your outfit after your hands separated just to remind him of how low he stood beneath you. Eren only let out a curt laugh as he rolled his eyes.

"Can't wait to make you my little bitch, Aaron."

A slight pause before he replied, "It's Eren."

Narrowing his eyes at you in utter disbelief, he tried to calm himself down, reminding himself that there would be plenty of opportunities for him to humiliate you later.

"Yeah... okay." You gave him a look that signified how little you cared. He simply brushed it off.

The two of you began to head towards the table, two people in the process of finishing up a game before you snapped at them to leave. Eren, on the other hand, had been pulled to the side by Mikasa and Armin, the latter scolding him for what he was about to do.

“If you lose, you’ll never live it down. If you win, her fucking minions will be on you like-”

“I know what I’m doing, just leave it.”

The two watched Eren as he turned his back, heading for the table where you were waiting with an impatient scowl on your face despite the fact you had only been waiting for about two minutes.

Mikasa tried to call out to him, yet her efforts were futile given the loud music that still boomed throughout the halls. Giving up, the pair looked at each other with concern etched into their features before reluctantly joining the crowd that had formed around the two of you.

You made a snappy comment along the lines of ‘getting this over and done with’ before Eren gestured for you to go first. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation as you threw the first shot, immediately getting it into one of the back cups and watched, unblinking, as Eren tossed the cup's contents down his throat like it was nothing.

This went on for a while - you'd successfully get the ball into one of his cups and then watch intently as he drank the beer inside. There was something about watching the way his throat would bop or how he’d wipe his mouth, his eyes on yours, and then tossing it to the side before taking a ball and throwing it effortlessly into one of your cups.

You hated how attractive he was and hated yourself for not being able to take your eyes off him.

Now, you had only three cups left, whereas he had four. You cursed yourself for missing the last time but it wasn’t your fault when you could feel his eyes burning holes through you whilst he shot you that same stupid smirk he kept giving you.

It wasn’t because you found it attractive, it just irritated you endlessly. There was no other logical explanation than irrational anger - that's what caused you to miss your last shot. So, as you watched him throw the ball and the way it danced around the rim of your cup before falling in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t miss these last shots.

The other times you had missed, he wasn’t smirking at you nor was he staring at you like he could see through your clothes - so it really was the only explanation.

As much as he liked to think he did, he didn’t make you nervous.

Taking the cup, you lifted it to your lips and swallowed back the beer, some of it dribbling down your chin and down your chest.

Eren refused to let himself react loudly, though, as he fought against how his hands were gripping onto the table and how his jaw was clenched. 

The two of you continued the game, Eren missing once, leaving the two of you with only one cup left.

It was Eren’s turn, but it didn’t matter whether or not he got this last one in as long as you could get your next in.

Your fingers tapped anxiously and impatiently against the table as he stretched out his turn for longer than he should have been - like he was purposefully trying to ensure you missed your next throw. 

Aiming the ball, he threw it perfectly in the cup causing your face to drop before immediately wiping the reaction off your face.

Running his tongue over his teeth, he looked up at you with a winning smile and a vicious look in his eyes. “Your turn, princess. You don’t wanna miss this one.” Eren drawled, standing back from the table and crossing his arms arrogantly. “Unless, you actually want to be my bitch for the rest of the night.”

The large group of people gathered around all of you snickered at his comment and waited for your response eagerly. 

“In your dreams, perv.” You snarled at him, taking the ball and aiming it carefully at the last cup. Taking a deep breath in, you threw the ball and hoped for the best.

Watching as it hit the rim of the cup and bounced straight back off, your eyes widened and your face filled with horror. Your hands fell to your sides and you stared blankly at the cup in defeat.

“Just one more go, I-”

Reaching for the ball that had betrayed you and had begun to roll to your side of the table, you were cut off by Eren placing his hand over yours as it rested on top of the ball. Your head snapped up to meet his in annoyance. Once again, he was looking down at you and you had never felt so small. Your heart stuttered, there was too much humour in his crooked smile for someone who had innocently proposed a game of beer pong.

“No. We made a deal.” He sounded so naturally calm and though his voice wasn’t gloating - his eyes certainly were. 

You wanted to cry but you wouldn’t allow yourself to. There was no way you’d toss away all of your pride tonight - you were already going to have to do anything he asked you to so you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

Dropping your head and releasing the grip you had on the ball, you pulled away from him and sighed in defeat. It pissed you off to no extent to lose in front of all these people, especially seeing as though Eren had made the terms of the game clear to everyone watching.

You couldn’t help but scold yourself for even accepting those terms - it benefitted you very little. Never did you think you would lose and have to follow Eren around like a dog all night and wait for him to give a command.

Folding your arms, you raised your head, deciding to at least pretend that your defeat hadn’t pissed you off endlessly. 

“So?” You asked, waiting for whatever embarrassing wish he had for you to fulfil.

“I want you to get on your knees and apologise.”

You felt the life drain from your face as your heart plummeted. As if the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, Eren was right there to remind you that it can and it will. Shaking your head, you swallowed nervously and replied. “No way. Not in front of all these people.”

“We had a deal, didn’t we? On your knees, princess.” He spat venomously. You looked up into his eyes with a silent pleading desperation and realised there was no negotiating when you noticed how lifeless and full of hatred his eyes were. It also hit you at that moment that he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while. Had he planned this entire thing?

Looking around, you felt a burning amount of rage flow through you as you bit your lip and sank to your knees.

“I’m sorry.” Your tone wasn’t short of seething anger and you kept your head down, not wanting to look at how proud he must be.

“Aw, c’mon, you can do better than that,” Your fingers grasped at the thin and short material of your skirt in frustration. “Look, you can sit here and apologise properly to get this over and done with, or we can be here all night - which is only more embarrassing for you, really. I mean, at least try to sound sorry.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit for the second time in two minutes, he was right, so you caved in.

“I’m sorry, Eren. I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped into you and I’m sorry I said it was your fault. Also, I’m sorry for calling you a freak… and a perv,” Looking up at him, you stare intently into his eyes, like he was the only other person in the room. Your voice lowered to just over a whisper. “Please forgive me.”

Eren stood above you with his arms folded - his face now void of any emotion, not even a hint of pride or victory carved into his features as he looked down on you.

“Hm. I’ll think about it.”

How the fuck did he manage to annoy you more and more with every word that fell from his lips? He’ll think about it? What the fuck does he even mean by that? 

“You asked me to apologise, and I did. So just fucking forgive me.”

Eren crouched down to your level and took your chin in between his index finger and thumb before leaning over to whisper in your ear. “I’d watch what you say, princess. You don’t wanna get punished do you? I mean, how would all these people react once I tell them their perfect girl keeps pressing her legs together every time I look at her?”

He noticed that? No, scrap that - why the fuck did just the mention of getting punished cause that familiar throbbing in between your legs? And the way his breath was fanning your ear and how low his voice sounded as he spoke. What the fuck was he doing to you?

Pulling away, he gave you an expectant look and you shook your head - agreeing with him.

He stood up and motioned for you to follow him.

Fuck was this going to be a long night.

Within minutes of his victory, there were people crowding Eren and talking to him like they had been friends for years - like he wasn’t the type they’d make fun of behind his back. Like you hadn’t watched them.

You dragged your feet and followed him wherever he went, occasionally going to fetch him or his new-found friends another drink whenever he asked you to. 

He wasn’t talking to you much, and you were grateful for that. He didn’t gloat or brag about his victory, he simply gave you a demanding look and gave you a task to do. 

Despite this, he was constantly looking over at you. His eyes would wander down your body just like they had done when you bumped into him and like they were when you were playing beer pong. His eyes would burn holes into your skin before he would lick his lips and turn back around to rejoin the conversation he had temporarily removed himself from. You assumed he was simply trying to make sure you hadn’t ran off.

The thought had crossed your mind a few times. You could run off and save your reputation, but you were getting an odd sort of pleasure from the way he was ordering you around, laughing at you and thinking of new ways he could humiliate you in front of everyone.

Him not speaking to you, however, also gave you the time to properly look at him as well. You were right previously, he was in one of your classes. He sat at the back, typically staring out the window or twirling his pen. You don’t know how you never really paid any attention to him before because there was something about him that was so… attractive. 

Eren had a quiet, brooding look about him that would generally scare other people - or at least earn him a few weird looks.

Not tonight, however. His typical chilling look was embraced given the fact it was halloween and it made you seethe with anger at his blatant hypocrisy after he had made his distaste of you due to your popularity so apparent all whilst soaking in the amount of attention he was getting instead of you.

You were outraged that you were having to stoop down to his level and embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Yet, for some reason, you weren’t able to prevent the throbbing feeling between your legs when he was looking down at you and commanding you to do something else he could have done easily on his own.

You were glaring at him when he suddenly decided to excuse himself from the group he was with and called you to follow him. Cursing under your breath, you hurried after him with an annoyed look plastered onto your face.

“What's wrong with you?” He did nothing to hide his mocking tone or the humour he found in your situation.

“I have no clue what you’re on about. I just fucking love following you around like a dog and doing whatever you want.” You snapped, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows.

“Well that's good, considering you’ll be doing it for the rest of the night.”

There was a ringing in your ear and you wanted nothing more than to take a hammer and smash every single speaker that echoed the beat of the music throughout the cramped halls. Every brush of someone walking past you was making you incredibly frustrated and you felt so close to lashing out at someone - preferably Eren.

“You’re an asshole.”

Within seconds, you were pulled into an empty corner and pushed against the wall. Eren had one of his hands on your hip and the other had a deathly grip on your chin. 

“And you’re a pathetic slut who’s been staring at me the entire night with those stupid ‘fuck me’ eyes and pressing her legs together because it’s all the action she’ll be getting for a while after this.”

Your heart was thumping in your chest because of his bold accusations, and despite this, you could feel yourself growing hotter. Your skin became more sensitive and was tingling at every touch and where his hand was touching gently on your hip it felt like you were burning.

You were holding your breath - hardly able to speak or think of a comeback until you remembered how he had been eyeing you the entire time as well.

“Oh yeah? Haven’t you been eye-fucking me this entire night? If you play your cards right, I might let you fuck me?”

Eren pulled back slightly and barked out a laugh at your response as though it was the funniest thing in the world which only irritated you more, though you refused to show it.

Subtly, he slipped his leg in between yours and pushed them away slightly, creating room for him to press his thigh up against your clothed pussy and giving you a taste of the pleasure he could bring you just by simply moving his thigh to rest between your legs. Though, he knew what he was doing as he moved his leg slightly resulting in him grinding his leg against your clit causing you to whine softly.

“Let me? Princess, you really have no idea who’s in control, don’t you? If I feel like fucking you, I will, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you? Because, you’ve been so good to me the entire night, you don’t want to spoil it, do you? I mean, sure, you can’t take a single order without a complaint or any back talk, but you’re getting there. You’re a spoiled little thing, but one that I can shape easily into a perfect little slut.”

The way he was talking about you and degrading you would have usually had you slapping him in the face and walking off immediately. But the way his insults rolled off his tongue so naturally was so appealing and had the control that you were so desperately trying to grasp at, falling from your fingers even further than before. 

That’s what you needed. Control.

“You’re right, Eren,” biting your lip, you took one of your fingers and slid it down his shirt and across his stomach. You felt like gasping when you could feel his figure through the tight material of the shirt yet you decided to remain silent. “I’ve been so good to you. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

Control was something that was very short-lived when you were faced with someone like Eren. Someone who could so easily snatch it up from underneath your nose and wave it obnoxiously in your face.

“For what, hm? Doing as you’re told? That’s what I fucking expect from you. No, you’ll get a reward when you impress me. Like I said, you can’t even get through a single task without a complaint. What’s so difficult about grabbing a couple of drinks?”

“You won’t let me have one.” You retorted, a pout settling on your face. The first time he had told you to get him a drink, you had got one for yourself as well - a way to calm your nerves and help you through this dreadful night. Immediately, he had taken your drink away from you and drank it right in front of your face as you stood there and watched dumb-founded.

He had told you that you weren’t allowed another drink unless he permitted you to and you blew up in his face about how unfair it was and called him a variety of creative insults.

Eren was ensuring that you were sober enough to feel the humiliation of your situation but also that you were in the right state of mind for when he inevitably fucks you tonight.

“That’s right, I won’t. You’ll understand why soon.”

Eren removed himself away from you completely and went on about his night like that interaction hadn’t left him as flustered and yet simultaneously annoyed as you were. 

He walked into the same living room you had started your night in. There was a different group of people in there, yet immediately, as if he was famous, someone offered their seat to Eren and two girls sat themselves next to him.

There was a panging feeling of jealousy hovering within you as you watched them touch his arms and laugh unnecessarily loud at one of his jokes.

He had just been flirting with you and yet somehow, he had easily moved on to the two girls he saw next whilst asking them if they wanted a drink because he knew just the person to fetch them.

You stormed off to the kitchen, pissed off at how he seemed to be enjoying the company of those two other girls far more than your own. 

But why? They wouldn’t be able to handle him like you could. If he was finding pleasure in ordering you about and forcing you to humiliate yourself, all whilst grinding his thigh against you in a place where anyone could have walked past, who knew what other kinky shit he was into?

There was a sense of desperation that hung over you. You wanted him to notice you, you wanted to get his attention so badly, you wanted to show him just how much of a slut you could be for him.

There was no way he’d even look in the direction of another woman after tonight, you swore it.

Bending down, you placed their drinks on the table, flashing him your black, lacy thong in the process yet not caring because you took pleasure in showing off knowing the people behind him could see as well.

“That’s a nice thong you’re wearing.” He stated blandly. You turned around to look down at him, sitting so carelessly on the sofa with his arms draped around two other girls. 

For some reason, this frustrated you to no extent. You wanted to believe that it was because of how annoying it was that he could pretend like he couldn’t care less about you. But, in reality, you wanted nothing but his attention on you. You didn’t want him to be touching other girls - that was the reason you had flashed him your thong as well, in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of what he was missing.

You grinned when he noticed the fact that he had been staring so shamelessly at your clothed pussy, letting you know that he did want you and not them.

What he said afterwards, took you aback. The grin on your face immediately being wiped away from existence - no trace of it to be seen.

“Give it to me.”

Your mouth was agape and there was nothing but disgust plastered all over your face before you quickly covered it up with your typical look of nonchalance. 

The people surrounding you whistled, still invested in the ongoing dare and what would turn out to be your inevitable downfall. There was still a sizable crowd amongst the dozens of other people pretending to be minding their own businesses. People you had known for years, people you had made fun of and chat shit about were relishing blatantly at your humiliation.

There was only one thing that you could do, and that was pretend to be as unaffected by the situation as possible. So, without another second of hesitation, you reached up underneath your skirt and pulled down your thong slowly as your eyes remained locked on Eren’s, both of your faces portraying zero emotion.

As you pulled your thong down your legs, you felt shame as your arousal clinged to it desperately and you knew that the minute you handed the fabric to him, he’d be able to see a glistening wetness. Your pussy had betrayed you, and now he was going to know exactly how you were responding to his degrading demands and humiliation.

Like he didn’t already know.

Still, you kept your face expressionless as though you weren’t ashamed and cringing and dying a little bit inside.

At the end of the day, there were still crowds of people around you, howling and praising your name for being so bold and hot.

Someone had to be reminding them of what they wanted but couldn’t have - yet there was a part inside of you that was worried the boys would begin to think of you as some common whore who’d have sex with anyone - including them.

You only had room for one worry at the moment, and at least they still somewhat respected you, even if it was just for now.

You twirled the small, black fabric around your finger with an alluring smirk on your face. “Are these what you want, Eren? You’re nothing but a perv.” You said, bending down to shove the panties against his chest before quickly standing back up again and sitting down on one of the other chairs, not wanting to be around him as much as you had to.

He held your thong in his hand and you stared at him in wait. He had immediately noticed the wet patch, and you were waiting patiently for him to announce it to the entire room, giving him a look of false encouragement by raising your eyebrows expectantly - but that moment never came. He simply stared back at you and winked, like it was your own little secret and you thanked him mentally for it as you let out a breath of relief.

Eren didn’t even try to hide how he shoved your thong into his pocket as he called out your name.

You rolled your eyes. Again? Could he not let you have just one break?

“Come and sit over here so I can keep my eye on you.” The girls beside him giggled and you wanted nothing more than to scream in the faces and rip their heads off but thankfully, you refrained. “Right in front of me, on your knees.”

Once again, you complied to his request, standing up and walking over to kneel down right in front of him, shooting him a look that said ‘are you happy, now?’ to which he just smirked and went back to talking to those two other girls.

He should have been the one on his knees. He should be on his knees, thanking you for giving him the time of day that he needed in order to get those girls’ attention. Before you, he was absolutely nothing - not a single girl on his shoulder. Now, because of you, he had two of them and yet it was you that was on your knees.

Without your thong, you felt exposed and anxious that soon you’d be able to feel your arousal dripping down your legs or that someone would be able to see your dripping pussy.

Your mind was spinning, so much so you couldn’t feel Eren’s hard eyes on you as the two girls he was with continued to speak to him like he was paying them any attention. He could see the way your eyes were moving around frantically, the way your legs were pressed together so tightly as you lay your hands in your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. He was concentrating so heavily on you that even over the sounds of chatter and music, he swore he could hear the change in pace of your breathing. 

Suddenly, your eyes connected with his. You were taken aback to find that he was already looking at you and if it embarrassed him that you caught him, his face didn’t show it. Neither of you broke the eye contact you held for a while, both too stubborn to be the first to lose. Instead, you just stood up and brushed your skirt down - claiming you needed to go to the bathroom.

His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously and you walked off as soon as you saw his lips part to respond, knowing it would only displease him.

You started pushing through the crowds of people, desperate to get to the bathroom as quickly as possible. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and the way your skin felt hot with embarrassment at the idea of someone seeing. 

For some reason, you had only gotten more wet when you saw how Eren was staring at you and how he didn’t take his eyes off you even when you caught him. 

There were slight murmurs of your name followed by mocking laughs as you made your way to the bathroom but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care - the only thing on your mind was Eren.

You were so close, mere steps away from reaching the door handle and behind able to relieve yourself when all of a sudden you were being spun around and dragged away causing you to curse whoever was preventing you from relieving yourself from your torment. And of course, who else would it be apart from Eren?

You stared at his back as he walked with your wrist in his hand and you could tell he was pissed off at you - just from his grip and the way that he was walking alone.

The two of you stopped in the corner of a very compact area, there were people everywhere but that didn’t stop Eren from trapping you. Luckily enough, the people around you were either far too high or drunk to pay the two of you much attention as they messily grinded on one another and blew smoke around the room.

Eren forced your head to look in his direction by taking your face in his hand roughly.

There was a scowl adorned on his lips, yet, replacing the usual emptiness within his eyes was a spark that you hadn’t seen before and it made you question whether he had something planned.

His arm was caging you in and he peered down at you menacingly. “Care to explain?”

“I already told you.” you said, the corner the two of you were in was relatively quiet for a party so you hardly had to shout. There was also the fact you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourselves because you were already in a compromising position in front of all these people, you were just relieved they were too intoxicated to fully comprehend what was going on in the corner of their eyes. “I was going to the bathroom. Before you stopped me, that is. By the way, I’m blaming you if I piss myself in front of all these people.”

Whilst Eren may have let out a laugh, it was one that was devoid of any humour or enjoyment. He lowered his head and shook it slowly whilst he laughed and his grip on your chin with the hand that wasn’t confining you strengthened. “That’s funny because I don’t remember letting you.”

“And I don’t remember needing your permission.” You retorted, growing more vexed with every second that passed yet at the same time that throbbing feeling in between your legs came back as you stared at him intently, gauging his reaction. 

He dropped his hand from your face and lowered it down to your neck to which you instinctively gave him access by raising your chin. “We made a deal, didn’t we?” 

When you didn’t answer him, his clutch on your throat grew more intense causing your mouth to drop open in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Didn’t we?” Eren repeated.

“Y-yes, Eren.” Your voice was less than a whisper, too afraid you’d say the wrong thing. However, you appeared to have pleased him at least a bit as his grip loosened ever so slightly at your response making you sigh in relief.

“Good girl. Now tell me, did you actually need the bathroom? Or…” The hand on your throat once again left its place and made its way down your body and towards the space in between your legs and a single finger wiped some of the slick from your pussy earning a sigh from you as you let your head rest against the wall. Immediately, his hand was removed from your pussy and he brought it up to the space in between the two of you as he examined his finger carefully. His eyes were glued to how wet you were before they locked on yours. “...did you need to fix this little problem, hm?”

Your voice was failing you as you spewed out pathetic stutters of what was supposed to be denial of his accusation yet you both already knew the answer. In fact, he was only asking you to embarrass you. This entire thing, his only goal, was to crush you and leave you mortified - not even recognising yourself anymore. Still, you attempted to deny it nevertheless.

“No! Wh- why the fuck would I- I swear I just needed to go to the bathroom.” It couldn't have been less believable if you tried.

The fact that you even thought of lying to him was enough of a reason for him to punish you - in his eyes, anyway.

“Liar.” He spits, and his hand instantly goes back up to your throat as a way of letting you know that you had upset him. “Fine then. If you want to cum so badly, then touch yourself. Right here, right now. I want you to touch yourself.”

Your eyes went wide like you had seen a ghost, but in reality, this was much more shocking. Was he being serious? There’s no way he actually wanted you to touch yourself when there were so many people around, any of which could look in your direction and see the sinful act you would be committing.

That spark in his eyes. The same one you had noticed immediately once he turned to face you, it told you everything you needed to know.

He was really telling you to touch yourself. 

“What?” you exclaimed. Yet, you couldn’t lie, just the idea of any one of these people turning around to see your fingers plunged deep inside of you really turned you on.

“They won’t see you, not with me blocking you.” he reasoned, taking a step closer and further minimising the gap in between the two of you. 

“Still, Eren, that’s fucking crazy. There’s no way I’m doing that!” But, oh, you wanted to. Whilst your words were disapproving, you couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to touch yourself in that moment, your clit was aching and begging for attention as a result of your neglect and your hole was desperate to be filled but no matter what, it was unreasonable to suggest doing something so vile.

Eren simply tutted at your resistance and shook his head like you were a child and he was inevitably going to get what he wanted no matter how many times you objected.

“The thing is, you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? You could have left ages ago, but you didn’t. So there’s no point in arguing when we both know you’re going to end up giving in - not because I want you to, but because you want to. Try and hide it all you want, I know what I’ve seen.”

You swallowed nervously and looked around to see if anybody was watching the two of you. Still, you stayed motionless, scared of the consequences yet knowing that nobody would see you with Eren blocking you from anybody’s line of sight.

“What is it then, hm?” He asked with a fake tone of comfort. “Do you need me to help you?”

The feeling of his hand wandering down your bare arm before taking your hand in his own sent shivers throughout your entire body. You didn’t resist his movements, truthfully, you welcomed them. He moved your hand to the space in between your legs and used it to caress the inside of your thighs before your hand reached your soaking cunt.

“Don’t make me do all the work, princess.” 

It was like you were starting to act based on just his words and his voice. You found yourself wanting nothing more than him, wanting nothing more than to please him so that maybe he’ll fuck you.

You slipped your fingers inside of you and bit your lip to hold back any noises you wanted to make. Your fingers started slowly moving in and out inside of you and Eren drew back his hand and placed both of them on your hips, using his body to shield your own from any prying eyes. 

“That’s a good girl, so obedient.”

A quiet noise slipped from your throat and Eren hushed you soothingly as his thumbs caressed your hips.

Your fingers began to speed up and curled slightly in order to reach that spot that you knew would bring you close to the edge. Taking your thumb, you started rubbing steady circles on your clit and because of the added stimulation, it didn’t take long until your fingers were thrusting themselves continuously in and out of your soaking pussy whilst your thumb’s motions picked up the pace. 

“Tell me when you’re about to cum, okay?” You nodded in response, not thinking twice about it.

You used your other hand to cover your mouth and stop yourself from drawing any attention in your direction.

Eren’s lips found themselves on your neck, leaving gentle pecks up the side of it. His kisses were light as a feather and fleeting - gone and moving to another spot before you could truly appreciate his lips.

“Eren, I-” you began, your voice muffled due to your hand being placed over your mouth.

“Speak clearly, princess. I can’t hear you.” His voice vibrated over your neck and you whined louder than you should have done - your eyes instantly bulging out of their sockets as you looked around the room frantically to see if anyone heard and only let yourself breathe when you were certain nobody had.

“‘M gonna cum, Eren–”

Within seconds, Eren’s lips were off your neck and your hand had been dragged away from your aching pussy. You couldn’t even process what had happened because your mind was far too hazy, so you simply stared at Eren in disbelief.

You could feel your orgasm fading away and tears creeping up into your eyes. “W-what? Why did you- I don’t understand-”

“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I let you cum, would it?” 

He smoothed out your skirt for you in a fake gesture of kindness before walking off from you and shouted back for you to follow him.

You, on the other hand, needed a drink. So, you chose to walk in the opposite direction and instead towards the kitchen. Noticing this, he rolled his eyes and followed you instead. He called out your name several times but you paid him no attention as you took a cup and poured some alcohol into it before bringing it to your lips.

However, his hand stopped you before you could raise the cup and chug back its contents.

Eren removed the cup from your hand and placed it on the kitchen counter. “There’s a reason I don’t want you drinking alcohol and why I directly told you that you can’t have any.”

Still, you refused to listen and picked the cup back up against his wishes before taking a sip. 

“You’re acting like a brat.” Eren was clearly getting riled up, evident by the annoyance in his tone. “You seriously want to get punished again after the last time?”

Wiping your mouth, you considered his words, but the overwhelming feeling of vexation with him because of him denying you your orgasm overshadowed any reason or rationality, so instead, you simply shrugged and giggled to yourself a bit - feeling far too proud with yourself.

“Do you know how much fun it would be, how much pleasure it would bring me, if I was to tell everyone about that little wet patch I found on your thong, hm?”

You were fuming. How dare he threaten you? You couldn’t risk him telling anyone else. Just him knowing was embarrassing enough. 

Eren got closer to you, so close to the point where your chest was pressed up against his, and his head was mere inches from your own. You felt yourself growing hot, and that all too familiar feeling of need between your legs was prominent once again, just from the simple proximity between the two of you as though just him being close to you was far too much for you to handle.

“See, this bratty attitude of yours is gonna have to stop. Remember that you’re doing this willingly, and if I have to punish you again for acting like a brat then I won't hesitate to.” He cupped your cheek and spoke so softly, like he was complimenting you instead of scolding and threatening you with punishments. “So, are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you going to obey me like we agreed you would do?”

You were really started to hate him. You hated the way he spoke down to you like he was better than you. You hate the way that his threats and his insults and his words had this irreversible effect on you and caused you to press your legs together so pathetically like you couldn’t control yourself. You hated how you wanted nothing more than for him to make good on his words and just fuck you already. Mostly, you hated how much you didn’t hate it and you hated how you actually felt more inclined to misbehave than be good for him because even though it felt so good when he praised you, it also felt incredible when he punished you.

You looked inside your cup, checking out what was left of the drink - after seeing there wasn’t too much left, you took the cup and chucked everything inside of it at Eren before slamming it down on the kitchen island and tilting your head at him waiting for his reaction.

That, he hadn’t seen coming. He wasn’t expecting quick compliance out of you, but he assumed that after him preventing your orgasm you would at least show a little restraint. He had stumbled back a bit, shocked by your retaliation.

There was people surrounding the two of you now, vocalising their interest and edging Eren on to do something about it - he would, just not in front of them.

Lifting up his shirt, he wiped what had gotten on his face off before giving you a dead look and taking your arm in his hold and walking out of the kitchen. The people that were watching expectantly voiced their disappointment before going back to what they were doing.

You stumbled throughout the halls, people shooting the two of you odd looks as you followed him reluctantly - his grip on your arm merciless and all of a sudden you were actually aware of what you had just done. 

Eren opened the door to one of the many bedrooms and shoved you inside of it before swiftly shutting the door and locking it, his head hanging low whilst he faced the door and a brief silence fogging up the room, suffocating you.

You stood in the middle of the room, watching his back. You wanted to go up to him and apologise but you couldn’t find the courage to approach him. 

As he turned around, you noticed how his eyes looked dark and displeased, like you had really disappointed him this time and like it was his final straw in dealing with you. 

“You think that shit was cute, princess? ‘Cause I’m really not happy with you.”

“Look, Eren, I- I was just-”

The sound of his footsteps cut you off as he began walking over to you.

Without warning, he slapped your cheek causing the sound to reverberate around the room and the inevitable silence that stung your ears afterwards. You were no longer looking at him, your head tilted to the side and you resisted that prominent urge to press your legs together.

He cupped the cheek that he slapped and caressed it harshly. “Your safe word is red, do you understand.”

Giving him a clear nod, he took the initiative to pull you over to the bed that sat in the middle room before he took a seat and pulled you over his lap so that your ass was up in the air. He placed something on the bedside table, but you didn’t see what it was. Pulling up your skirt, he caressed the fat of your ass gently.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I was really starting to think that you were beginning to behave as well.”

The sound of a painful slap across your ass rang in your ears as you winced, gripping the sheets.

“I said I was sorry, Eren-”

“You think that’s fucking good enough?” Another slap, this time to your other cheek before he returned back to the other and slapped it a few more times. “You did a very bad thing, princess. I didn’t think you had it in you anymore after your last punishment but it turns out just edging you isn’t enough to help you learn.”

Eren’s palm slapped your ass with a sound that could be heard from the hallway if there wasn’t still music blasting throughout the halls. You sucked in a breath and your grip tightened on the bed’s covers as you waited for the next swat to come, and then the next and the one after that one as well - along with all the smacks that came after that.

Your skin was stinging and hot and it seemed like Eren was hell-bent on breaking you and peering through the cracks of your life with the sheer strength he was putting into every individual slap. 

And yet, for whatever sick and twisted reason that had derived from the most wicked parts of your mind, you were moaning and wriggling in his hold in a desperate attempt for friction against your aching cunt. You were finding pleasure in the pain he brought upon you no matter how much it stung and you wanted to cry.

You tried to squirm away as they got harder but it would always result in him somehow making the next harder than the last so you stopped trying.

“C’mon princess, take your punishment like a good little girl. You’re not leaving until you’ve learned your lesson so stay put.”

Letting out a low cry of pain, you tried to move your head up in an attempt to get away slightly yet he just brought his free hand to your head and held it down roughly. 

“Don’t tell me I’ve smacked all the sense out of you, princess? What did I just fucking say, huh?”

His words and his force - it was all far too much but equally just what you had been needing. There was something about letting go and not having the control that you so desperately yearned for that was so freeing - and now, with your head pinned and Eren ruthlessly smacking your ass, you had no choice but to submit to his cruelty and relish in the feeling of being used.

Slowly, he moved his hand to reach to the side of your face before tapping your lips in a way that asked for your permission to open up - to which, of course, you complied.

“Just a couple more, princess. Okay?” It had been a while by this point, your face was soaked with tears and your thighs were drenched in your own fluids. Your ass was red hot and growing hotter with every spank. “Just need you to tell me how sorry you are, otherwise I wont know if I can trust you to be good.”

Instantly, you replied - flooding his ears with sobbing pleas and continuous sorrys. He smirked and stopped his merciless attack on your ass before stroking the skin softly and affectionately. He lifted you up so that you sat on his lap and you winced slightly, resulting in a cunning grin forming on Eren’s lips.

You hadn’t been this wet all night, if Eren didn’t fuck you right now you thought you would lose your mind.

“Eren, I want you to fuck me.”

Raising an eyebrow at you, he sat you down next to him before standing up and looming over you - taking your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t know about that.”

“I’ve waited all night, you can’t just-” 

“Yes I can.” He cut you off harshly and you stopped your sentence abruptly. He sighed like you were inconveniencing him. “I tell you what, if you beg me right now to fuck you - I will.”

You had already lost so much of your pride - you couldn’t lose anymore. He had gotten everything he wanted yet for some reason, after a single taste of greed, he wanted more. 

“I’m not going to beg you, Eren. You’ve gotten everything from me tonight - nobody is ever going to look at me the same again thanks to you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Now, you’ve ruined my reputation, the least you can do is fuck me hard enought that I forget about it.”

Eren’s features portrayed nothing other than irritation. He squeezed your chin tightly and you whimpered almost silently. “Who the fuck are you to be ordering me around? Either, you beg, or I leave. It’s entirely up to you, princess.”

You wanted it so bad. Nobody had ever made you feel the way Eren did. Nobody had ever crossed as many lines and tested you so much in a way that actually turned you on. He hadn’t even touched your pussy, yet you already know he know’s how to please it like he’d been fucking you for years.

But, at the end of the day, you couldn’t risk more than you had. You could spend the rest of your life daydreaming about how good Eren’s dick would feel pounding into you as you sat comfortably knowing you had manage to salvage whatever was left of your crumbling social status and build it back up again - or you could beg him to fuck you right now, and he would tell everyone about what a filthy slut you are who’s just desperate for his cock and your entire life would be in shambles. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even fuck you after you begged.

Taking your silence as an answer, Eren hums, before turning back around to unlock the door and reached for the handle.

Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d fuck you, and the two of you would then go about the rest of your lives peacefully knowing you didn’t turn down what would be the best sex of your life.

You craved him - it was Eren that freed every single one of your deepest and darkest fantasies from their cage and let you fulfill them. You needed him to.

“Wait.”

You had moved so swiftly from your seat and now your hand was covering his on the door handle. He didn’t turn to face you, he just waited for you to speak.

The feeling of your hand dragging itself down his body snapped him out of his stubbornness and made him turn to see what you were doing - only to be met with the sight of you on your knees as you parted your lips to speak.

“Please, Eren. I need you so fucking badly, please, I need you to use me and slap me around and hurt me because it feels so good. Nobody’s made me feel this fucking good before and I don’t understand why but I need you to help me Eren because I can’t take it. I can’t take it anymore, I need you so badly it hurts. Please. Please make me feel good, Eren. Please.” Your voice was laced with a tone of pathetic desperation that made Eren’s dick twitch in his pants.

Turning around fully, he looked down at the sight of your hands clawing at his pants as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Show me.” Eren demanded, his voice somehow lower than ever.

Without thinking twice, you began to unbuckle his belt and tugged down his pants - freeing his cock that was growing harder and more distressed with every second.

Shit - he was big. Bigger than you thought. Of course, you could kind of feel him when he was pressed up against you earlier or when you were bent over his lap - but you hadn’t imagined it was this large. Eren was amused by how impressed you seemed, but chose not to express it.

You started off by stroking the length slowly and kissing the tip before taking it in your mouth.

Eren hissed at the contact, his hand immediately moving to rest on top of your head. Already, you can hardly get enough of the addictive taste of his dick against your tongue and the way it’s drooling with precum.

He’s gritting his teeth, trying to stop himself from making too much noise and boosting your ego.

Yet, when his spongy tip hits the back of your throat he can’t help the groan that slips from his lips whilst your own are sucking him so perfectly - your tongue expertly moving around his length.

You bob your head up and down somewhat slowly, his dick being simply too hard to adjust to so quickly. 

Your soft, warm tongue was stroking his dick so nicely it was driving him insane, and as much as he could do this forever - there was only so much time before people began to get kicked out of the house and told to go home, and whilst Eren had no idea what the time was, he’d hate himself forever if he let this opportunity slip past his fingers.

The longer he was waiting for you to pick up your pace and quit teasing, the more impatient he was growing. He knew damn well what your mouth was capable of, but apparently no matter how much you ran it and how big that mouth of yours could be - his dick was far too much for it.

Eren considered it a gesture of helpfulness when he grabbed the back of your head and started thrusting viciously in and out of your mouth - the tip bulling the back of your throat as you gagged and choked yet showed no sign of resistance.

Theres saliva travelling down your chin and your slobbering all over his cock - it’s all so messy but none of that is on your mind. The only thing you can think of is showing him how much you need him. He makes you so pathetic that you’re shocked the mean bitch you were just a couple of hours ago ever even existed.

So pathetic, that when he moves his foot directly underneath him, you can’t help the overwhelming urge to grind down on his boot. You knew it was risky, you knew that there was a chance it would displease him but you could never stop yourself from acting without thinking things through properly. However, realistically, how were you supposed to think about anything when he was fucking every thought right out of your brain. 

You hoped that he was so consumed by his own pleasure that he wouldn’t have a problem with it - or preferably, that he wouldn’t even notice. Nevertheless, you grinded yourself down against his boot and moaned - the sound muffled by his cock yet the vibrations caused him to groan and his grip on your head grew harder.

It felt so good, the way your hips were dragging your pussy against his boot and giving you the stimulation you had been needing the entire night.

Your hands are gripping at his thighs for some sense of stability as you try to balance yourself whilst he fucks your throat raw and without any regard for yourself - his balls hitting your chin.

Sounds of gurgling and sucking dominated the entire room. It was all so lewd, from the noises the two of you were making to the fact that your hair was becoming a mess and you were drooling dumbly.

“Fuck- you’re such a slut, aren’t you? Doing all of this just so you can get dicked down - so fucking pathetic. I should have expected it from you.”

There are hot tears streaming down your cheeks but you aren’t anywhere near upset. Your makeup is no longer in tact, mascara painting your cheeks.

You can feel all of your senses going practically numb as he fucks them all out of you. You’re struggling to breathe but you’re entirely okay with it - you can barely even moan properly and you can feel the way he’s silently mocking you for it as he continues his brutal pace in your mouth.

Eren is entirely consumed by the pleasure - letting it take over him completely as he mutters out curses and groans deeply whilst keeping a tight grip on your head. He’s losing his mind from the delicious feeling of your mouth taking him so well.

However, he pulls out, evidently not wanting to finish just yet and theres a spark of hope within you that it means he’s convinced and that he’s going to fuck you.

“Shit- that was fuckin’ amazing, princess. Gonna cum all down your throat, next time.”

Next time? Your eyes widened and your heart clenched in excitement at the prospect of there being a next time.

Eren tucks himself back into his pants, that spark of hope dying a bit. He walks over to the bedside table where he placed something before. When he carried it back over to you, you recognised that it was a bottle of beer.

“You want a drink, sweet girl?”

You looked up immediately, wiping the drool of your chin, to see him swirling around the beer in the bottle. “Please…”

Eren smirked in satisfaction as he kneeled down to your level and took your chin in his hand. You tried to reach up for the bottle, but he moved it out of your reach whilst tutting disappointedly.

“Open wide.”

He poured the liquid into your mouth from high above your head, resulting in only some of it going into your mouth as you eagerly took as much as you could while a fraction of it dribbled down your chin and spilled down your breasts. 

He took the bottle away and brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the beer on your chin before slipping it into his own mouth and winking at you.

As he looked down at you, he noticed a wet spot on one of his boots and he raised an eyebrow at you. Shamefully, you turned away.

“Fuck, princess, that fuckin’ desperate are we?” he laughed, yet you couldn’t see the humour in it and there was a slight pout on your lips which was soon wiped away.

That singular spark of hope from before sets ablaze once he picks you up and tosses you on the bed in an instant - removing your shoes and starting on your fishnets and skirt.

Flipping you over so that your back is to him, he rips the wings from your back. “Your no angel, princess, I’ll tell you that.”

You could feel his voice against your neck before he started to suck and bite your neck.

He lifted up your top over your head so that you were now bare in front of him.

His hands were roaming everywhere yet his lips stayed on your neck as he kissed and bit your neck in a possessive manner - as though he was letting the entire world that you belonged to someone - that you weren’t just a slut, you were Eren’s slut.

To your dismay, he stood up from the bed. You turned yourself over to see what he was doing only to find yourself confused when he was rummaging through whoever’s wardrobe it belonged to.

Closing the wardrobe door, he turned to face you with a tie in his hand. Biting your lip, you tilted your head up at him in surprise. Laughing, you asked, “You really gonna tie me up with some stranger’s tie and then fuck me in their bed? And I’m the dirty slut.”

Eren laughed along with you, kneeling in front of you on the bed and forcing you to backup towards the headboard. “They won’t know.”

Taking your hands in a delicate grip, he tied them both together to the metal headboard. The knot was tight, so tight you figured you’d have a lot of trouble ever trying to get out of them without Eren’s help.

His lips hovered over yours for the first time before he pressed them together and plunged his tongue into your mouth - kissing you roughly.

He tasted incredible and his lips were so soft. For the first time, he was being properly gentle with you and he had no clue why.

This entire thing began as a revenge fantasy, so why was he all of a sudden feeling the need to handle you like you were glass. 

One of his hands slipped between your legs and began to play with your soaking pussy. “Shit, princess. So wet.” 

“I need you now, Eren.” You muttered against his lips, snapping him out of whatever daze your lips had put him in.

Bringing his hand back up, he quickly sucked the wetness from your pussy off his fingers and almost groaned at the taste.

Now, he was eager to be inside of you - longing for the feeling of your wet walls hugging his dick so tightly like he knew they would.

“Shit, princess. You think you can take me?” He mocked, a huge smirk plastered on his face and though typically you would have wanted to smack it right off, in that moment, all you could do was whine as you bucked your hips up needily.

He was practically folding your legs like a chair. Both of them rested on his shoulders as he leaned down to kiss your lips before pushing his rock hard cock inside of you. In sync, the two of you moaned at the sensation - and thought that initial pain from the stretch was apparent, so was the feeling of every single one of his veins and the slight curve of his dick.

Once he was fully in, he let you adjust for a moment as the two of you stayed in silence. Eren continued marking your throat as a form of restraining himself from pounding into you ferociously. 

Gradually, he started to slowly move in and out of you - and soon enough his cock was brutally hitting that spot within you that had you gasping and seeing stars.

His lips trailed down to your chest and took one of your nipples into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it as he pistoned his cock into your throbbing cunt.

He was fucking you so roughly that all you could do was lay there and moan loudly - completely unaware of anything other than how his dick was making you feel.

Eren was mesmorised by the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tightly and deciding that he needed to see it. Removing his mouth from your nipple, he sat up and used his hands to keep both of your legs up as he watched the way your pussy hugged him so tightly, refusing to let him go.

“Should have know that all it would take was a bit of dick to get you this obedient and good. A bitch like you just needs some dick to put her in her place, ain’t that right, princess?”

His words were hardly registering in your mind, but just the sound of his voice had you whining and your pussy tightening around his dick, desperate for more.

You could feel every inch of his dick pounding into you and dragging ruthlessly against your walls, causing you to gasp and choke on your own moans.

With all of your effort, you took a deep breath before sputtering out a request. “Wanna- t-touch you, ‘ren, please-!”

He paused his bruising thrusts, and with such a speed you had never seen before undid the knot of the tie without any questions - he simply just did as you had asked like he needed you to touch him as well before going back to pummeling his cock in and out of you.

Your hands went to grasp at his back, clawing at the flesh in an attempt to seize some sort of control. Your fingernails were leaving scratched in their places as they dragged down his back which only had Eren groaning at the painful feeling as he picked up his pace and somehow went impossibly faster and more rough.

“Such a whore, and all for me as well. Nobody else gets to see you like this, not anymore. You’re all mine now, princess. Do you hear me?”

You nodded frantically in response, unable to form any coherent words other than curses and chants of his name. 

The idea of being just his brought you so close to your orgasm. The idea of being able to have his dick inside of you, making you feel this good, whenever you wanted and all you had to do was just be a bit of a brat (which you were amazing at).

Noticing that you were getting closer, due to the fact that your pussy was only getting tighter around his dick and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold on much longer, his hand reached down to play with your pulsating clit in hopes that you’d be able to finish with him. He kissed your face and your lips and stared at you with adoration filling his eyes.

Everything was becoming so much. You were filled to the brim with Eren’s large dick, and the way his skillful fingers were toying with you so effortlessly despite how clouded he was with pleasure made you feel incredible.

“I’m g’nna fill you up with my cum. Shit, I need to see this pussy full with my cum, is that okay, princess?”

You let out a noise of approval as you nodded which was all Eren needed before he finished inside of you and the feeling along with the knowledge of how it was you that he was finishing inside of caused you to reach your high as well.

Eren continued to thrust his dick in and out of you through both of your orgasms as you came in sync. His lips found yours - completely infatuated with the way your lips felt against his and the way you tasted on his tongue.

When Eren pulled out, he was enthralled by the sight of his cum spilling out of your hot pussy as he smirked and used one of his fingers to push what he could back inside of you.

“God, you’re so fucking hot, princess. I’m fuckin’ keeping you, do you hear me? No more of that dare shit - you’re mine permanantly.”

Breathlessly, you replied. “‘M all yours, Eren. Just fuck me like that more often, okay?”

note: it's almost 2am, the ending is rushed and I have college in the morning so i apologise if there are any mistakes. i needed to get this out before I drove myself insane.

[htchnr]

★ gentle hands ❥ A. HOTCHNER.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon.

CW ➥ reader has issues with eating ⋆ very brief mention of an alcohol problem ⋆ mention of binge eating or not eating ⋆ sweet and sappy comfort fic ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

WC ➥ 1,3k. SONG ➥ chocolate mint , duster.

SUMMARY ➥ you've always had issues with food, you either eat too much, or not enough, or not at all. you've always struggled with it yourself, but now that you live together with Aaron it's a little difficult to avoid or hide. so when you tell him about your struggles, he comforts you. as requested by an anon, but i lost the ask 😭

AUTHORS NOTE ➥ i'm getting a little bit better! still feel like i've got the flu, but i've atleast been able to concentrate on writing a request! 😁 i'm gonna try my best to finish up the remaining Kinktober posts, those will at the very least be all done before the end of November!

★ - © 2023 HTCHNR. do not copy, share or translate my work to this platform, or any other! - ★

you rolled on your back, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tightened your jaw. the clock had briefly flashed 3:28AM when you moved. your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides.

the urge to eat something was so overbearingly painful. you weren't necessarily hungry, you just need something to eat. you've tried explaining it to therapists before, but it never came out the way it needed to. you've briefly talked about it with Morgan once, though ended up not continuing the conversation after you got a call about a case and left.

and you didn't want to bring it up with Aaron; he already worried about the smallest things, the tiny bad habits you had. Aaron was one of the best people you've met, but you felt like you only burdened him with your flaws. though if Aaron ever heard you say that, he'd crush you in a hug and force you to apologise. to yourself, for ever daring to think that you were a burden to him.

your fists clenched one more time before you sat up, rubbing your hands across your face in frustration. some nights food was comforting, other nights; like this night, it was a nuisance and it frustrated you so much, your self image took the bullet for it.

you carefully moved the blankets off of you, letting your feet quietly hit the cold wood floor of your bedroom. you glanced behind you at the figure in your bed; Aaron laid peacefully, the deep creases in his face looking more relaxed as he slept.

you brushed a hand through your hair as you quietly left the bedroom and walked towards the kitchen. you yawned as you pulled open the main cupboard where you kept most packaged foods like crackers, cookies, cereal etc. one hand holding the door, the other on the bare skin of your waist, you hadn't bothered putting anything else on beside the bralette and the pair of pyjama shorts you had worn to bed.

you hesitated, i should shut the door and just go back to bed, you thought to yourself. but your body moved on it's own accord, grabbing a box of cereal and two granola bars. your hold tightened around the bars, plastic crinkling in your grip before you set the items on the counter. you pulled open the fridge to grab the milk, and pulled out a rather large clean bowl from the dishwasher. you made a mental reminder to empty that out after you were done eating.

you poured the cereal into the bowl, hoping the sound didn't trigger Aaron and then twisted open the cap of the milk before pouring it in, the quiet 'crackle' of the cereal filling your ears.

you cracked open the dishwasher once more, grabbing a spoon and shoving it in the bowl, stirring and coating all the cereal in the milk. you took a bite, your tense form almost instantly relaxing a smidge as you chewed on the cereal. see? eating was a good idea. you stood facing the counter while you ate, stuck in your own headspace.

so much so that you hadn't noticed that Aaron had left the bedroom. you rather quickly finished the bowl of cereal, putting it down on the counter beside the sink. as you grabbed for one of the granola bars, a pair of warm, gentle hands slid around your waist and their fingers splayed across your stomach, followed by a pair of lips pressed against your bare shoulder.

"what are you doing up honey?" he asked quietly. he noticed the atmosphere the second he entered the kitchen. your hand tensed around the granola bar, before shoving it against the counter and letting it go. your frame was still tense, even against Aaron's warm body. you don't need the granola bar, you eat enough as it is.

you shook your head a second after Aaron's question. "it's nothing, i was just-" you paused. don't tell him, you'll just give him more to deal with. one side spoke. while the other side encouraged you to open up to him about this. "what's wrong? i can hear those brilliant gears turning. talk to me dear." he spoke endearingly, a slight tease to his tone, that left as soon as it came. you turned in Aaron's arms, your lower back now against the counter, the granola bars behind you as you faced Aaron's bare chest.

"it's nothing Aar, go back to bed.." you insisted, still not meeting his eyes.

Aaron's hold tightened a little on the swell of your hips before lifting one hand to tilt your chin up to face him. "i know when something's wrong, please just talk to me about it." he spoke in a tone a little higher than a whisper. he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

"it's just that," you paused. are you doing this right now? "i," you suck in a breath. you couldn't seem to find the words now.

Aaron stroked your cheek. "hey, take your time." you encouraged you gently, a reassuring smile on his lips.

you nodded, looking down at your hands. do it, come on. "i have a problem with eating." there, it wasn't that hard, was it? Aaron nodded lightly, prompting you to continue. "i, i either eat too much or nothing at all." Aaron's hand returned to your waist, his thumbs rubbing reassuring circles into the soft flesh.

this wasn't as hard as you made it out to be. "some nights i feel like the urge to eat is so strong, that it eats away at me until i eat. though i'm not always even hungry, i just, have to eat. that doesn't make sense does it?" you chuckle sadly, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his warm chest, your arms still hanging at your sides. "and some days, i just avoid food all together. it's like the feeling of eating makes me feel so sick? not necessarily physically sick, but mentally." you continue, a slight crack in your voice.

Aaron's heart breaks at your confession. he knew something was going on, but not that it ran this deep. "and some days, i just drink all day. being drunk blocks out all the issues with eating. either i eat a normal amount, or i don't really eat at all, but it takes the bad feelings about each away." you mumble. this is embarrassing. Aaron lowers one of his hands down to one of yours, intertwining his fingers gently with yours. your thumb fiddled around with his thick fingers.

"i'm sorry i'm laying this all on you i know-"

"hey, don't." he speaks, his voice still gentle and quiet, but more assertive. you look up at him. "don't be sorry about something you can't control. as for not talking to me about it, i'm not mad at you, i just wished you'd come to me with these things more often. i know you're struggling, but i have no way of helping you, or even just being there if i don't know what's going on in that gorgeous mind of yours."

tears well up in your eyes. Aaron's thumb coming up just before a tear rolls down, gentle wiping it away. "come to me when you feel like this okay? come to me when you're having one of those days where eating pains you, or when you crave to eat the whole day. i'm here for you okay honey? i'm here for you, no matter what." he's here to help you, so let him.

you nod, licking a tear off your lips. he wraps an arm fully around your soft bare waist, the other one wrapping around your shoulder as he pulls you against him. your arms wrapping around his waist as you hold him tight. "thank you." your voice is muffled by his skin, but Aaron hears it. "i love you." you hold him tighter, pressing your face against his warm chest, the feeling of being held by him calming down any negative thoughts or feelings.

"i love you too." he whispers back, placing a firm kiss on the top of your head.

he pulls away, his thumb wiping away some tears. "do you want to eat something before we head back to bed?" he asks you, he had already spotted the granola bars behind you. you think for a second before nodding.

Aaron nods along, reaching for one of the bars behind you. he opens it, leaning away from you for just a second as he throws away the wrapper and hands you the bar. his hand wraps around yours as you take the bar from him, his thumb rubbing brief but gently against the back of your hand.

you eat the bar slowly, having Aaron stand in front of you calms the intensity of the craving. and when you're finished with the bar Aaron smiles. he leans down and captures your lips in a soft kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck as you lean into it. Aaron leans down, his warm gentle hand sliding down your waist and hips until they reach the back of your thighs, pulling you up and into his arms. you wrap your thighs around his bare waist and lean your head on his shoulder as he carries you back to the bedroom.

tonight might've been conquered, but there's still many more nights and days to go. though, now they don't seem as dark and daunting..

[gummydummy19]

Month seven (November): shower me with love

Summary: You do your friend a favour and drag Sy with you to go house-sitting (more like mansion-sitting, but whatevs)

A/N: Oh my god I'm excited for this one... I know this literally took me a million years (apologies AGAIN). I have missed these two like crazy, so without further ago, get cozy and happy reading <3

Word Count: 4k+

(this is part seven of my series: A year in apartment 6B)

The days had been shortening, slowly but surely getting gloomier. Most people hated it. The cold and the darkness. Wet pavement, foggy windows, rosy cheeks, and leaky noses.

You found it charming. It made you appreciate the coziness of your home even more. the home you'd been living in for almost seven months now.

While the rain tapped against the floor-to-ceiling windows of your office, you found yourself thinking of that very home. You couldn't wait to finish work and rush back to your apartment, curling up on your couch with yet another sappy romance novel.

"Can I ask you a favor?" your thoughts were interrupted by Elizabeth, your chaotic but very sweet work bestie. You met her during your first week at the office. She found you cursing yourself in the copy room trying to figure out how the printer worked you guys had stuck together ever since. It was nice to have someone to have lunch with and fill you in on office gossip.

"What now Liz?", you sighed jokingly.

She looked around to see if anyone was listening before whispering "Break room, now." and walking off. You quickly got up and followed her, wondering what this was about.

"Clark's assistant asked me to housesit for him while he's on his business trip next weekend."

Clark was our boss. Handsome guy, tall, rich, and always in a freshly pressed suit. He wasn't really your type, but according to Liz he always smelled delicious. Of course, she would know, she had been secretly seeing him for over a month now. It was all very exciting.

"Okay?..." you questioned, not really understanding what the problem was.

"It's the Paris trip..."

Right.

Office romance was very exciting indeed, but also very forbidden, and even though Clark was our boss, he wasn't the boss of the company.

Of course, he asked her to come to Paris with him. You knew it was hard for them to keep away from each other, it was truly adorable to see them try though. No one would have to know. It would be their perfect weekend away.

Except that now his assistant had asked Liz to housesit for him, just to feed his cats and water his plants, and she had no good reason to say no so she didn't. Which then brought her here, in the break room, begging you to cover for her.

'Why didn't you just say no?' you asked

'I panicked! I didn't want him to suspect anything so I just went along with it. Could you please do it for me? Please?'

You wanted to help her. You really did, but the thought of leaving Sy alone for an entire weekend when he still wasn't fully healed made your stomach twist

"Oh Liz...I don't...I mean...Sy is still not..."

"You can take him with you!" she quickly spat, "Think of it as a little weekend away together. Doesn't that sound fun?"

'We're not a couple, Liz!" you blushed

"Oh please you're basically married." she shushed, "Come on, you don't have to stay all weekend just check his mail, water his plants and feed his cats, that's all! Besides, his house is gorgeous, and it has an indoor pool! Didn't the doctor say swimming was good exercise?"

"I guess he did yeah..." you mumbled, "ugh, fine! But you owe me!"

"oh, you're the best!" she squealed, jumping up and down before giving you a bone-crushing hug.

"You better bring me back some ridiculously expensive gift" you joked as you tried to contain your own smile, secretly excited about your weekend with Sy.

_______________________________________________________

'So we have to spend the weekend in some rich snob's house because he wants to fuck his employee overseas?"

"Hey! She's my friend and they are in love!" you shot back

"Oh, I'm sure they are..." he mumbled, rolling his eyes, "I would be too if I got free trips to Paris"

"Don't be such a grump, Sy"

"What about Aika? We can't just leave her all weekend?"

"Your mom is picking her up this afternoon." you simply said

"My mo-...You spoke to my mother?"

"Yeah, she's been asking to see Aika for weeks! She sends her love by the way."

Sy silently thanked the lord for making this a regular phone call and not one of those Facetime situations because he wasn't in the mood to explain why his cheeks grew red at the thought of you being friendly with his mom.

"Right..." he grumbled.

"So you're in then? The doctor did say you needed exercise, Sy. You can't just stay cooped up in the apartment. It'll be fun!" you tried to convince him.

"Alright alright, fine, I'm in"

"Yay! Pack a weekend bag, I'll pick you up after work." you told him, "Oh, and don't forget your swim shorts!"

"My what?!" Sy asked, but you had already hung up the phone, leaving him in regret already

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Holy fucking shit"

Sy's deep voice boomed through the desolate entrance hallway of the Kent Residence.

"Normally I'd tell you to watch your mouth but...damn," you added, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging from the exceptionally high ceiling.

"Hey, check this out!" Sy called from the living room.

You were so wrapped up in your surroundings, that you hadn't even noticed he wasn't standing next to you anymore.

"May I please remind you that this is my boss's place? You can't just go around and touch every- HOLY FUCK THAT'S BIG"

You found Sy with a remote in his hand, standing in front of what was probably the biggest television you had ever seen in your entire life. I mean, it genuinely bordered on a home cinema. It was ginormous.

"You know Sugar, usually when I hear a woman say something like it it's not about a TV," he grinned, making you blush before you hit him with a pillow, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"You're an idiot," you claimed, trying not to laugh but miserably failing.

"You love it," he grinned again, making you roll your eyes.

"Whatever Syverson, I'm gonna go check out the rooms."

"Hold on, I'm coming with you before you snatch the best one."

Sy was hot on your heels as you rounded the corner. His massive chest colliding with your back when you came to a sudden stop.

“Holy. Shit.”

You stared in awe at what was the most gorgeous indoor pool you had ever seen in your entire life (well in all honesty, it was the only indoor pool you had ever seen in real life)

There were floor to ceiling windows and rows of luxurious pool chairs on each side.

“Damn, does this guy crap money?”

Sy’s rough baritone snapped you out of your astonishment, earning him yet another (playful) eye-roll

You and Sy snooped wandered around the mansion for good 20 minutes before you even got to the upstairs area. There was a long hallway leading up to beautiful French doors.

"That's probably the master bedroom, right?", you questioned, motioning towards the doors.

"Probably", he mumbled, "let's go check it out."

"No wait! We shouldn't...", you grabbed his arm, "It's not nice to snoop."

"Oh please, what have we been doing for the past half hour?", he chuckled, "Won't hurt to look, right?"

"Alright fine...just in and out, no unnecessary touching."

"Funny, that's exactly what my last hook-up said."

Sy whistled behind you as the bedroom was revealed.

"Sweet baby Jesus...." you mumbled, eyes wide as you took in the gorgeous interior.

Everything looked luxurious and expensive. Panel pair curtains matched the shades of the bedsheets and the accent wall. There were fresh flowers on what looked like a pure sandalwood dresser with golden details. Everything was perfect.

"I call dibs," Sy announced, making you snap your head at him.

"Like hell! I'm the one who got us here,"

"Correction, you are the one who forced us to come here, so it would only be fair if I got the master bedroom. As a reward for coming with you," he explained, crossing his arms.

"You're joking, right? What happened to 'Don't ya worry Sugah, I'm a real Southern gentleman!'" you imitated in a thick Southern accent.

"Hey, I do not sound like that!" he pointed his finger at you and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Settle down, cowboy. I'll check the other rooms." The truth is, yeah, that master bedroom was gorgeous, but you cared about Sy and he was still hurt, so if he wanted the master bedroom, you'd gladly let him have it.

You marched toward the closest room, ready to be stunned again. But when you tried the door, you couldn't get it open. You tried the handle again, rumbling the door a little.

"Locked?" Sy questioned.

"Maybe it's a home office, there might be private papers and stuff."

"Or a sex dungeon,"

"You are sick, Syverson. Really fucking sick."

He chuckled at that and you quickly turned around again, partly to try the next door, partly to hide the smile he had managed to put on your face.

"What the...it's locked again. Could you try that one?"

You and Sy tried every single door that could possibly be a bedroom, only to find them all locked. It was getting kinda ridiculous at this point, so you decided to text Liz.

"Sneaky bitch..." you mumbled as you stared at your phone screen.

"So?" Sy asked, "what did she say?"

"She uhm,...the key isn't here, he forgot."

"He forgot?" he frowned

"Apparently..." you looked around awkwardly.

Liz was so fucking dead when she got back from her stupid Paris trip.

“Guess we’re bunking together then, roomie” Sy grinned, but when he saw you awkwardly shuffling around and stare at your feet instead of grinning back at him, he nudged your shoulder “hey, I’m kidding, I can sleep on one of the pool chairs or something it’ll be fine”

“Sy, don’t be ridiculous I’m not letting you sleep on a pool chair”

“What? I’ve slept on worse, come to think of it, its kinda look our cots back on base, it’ll feel just like home”

“Base is home?” You said it without even thinking, the words tumbled over your lips before you could stop them and you couldn’t help but pair them with a slightly saddened expression.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I mean I kinda get that, I can imagine it grows on you”, you felt like you were treading dangerous territory, but so was he. He knew you worked so hard to make your place a home, he truly didn’t mean to-

“Wanna go for a swim?” You interrupted his thought spiral

“I’d love to”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You dipped your toes in the water, finding it perfectly heated.

You had gotten changed first, covering yourself in your fluffy bathrobe before heading for the pool and waiting for Sy there, while impatiently checking the temperature.

"How is it?"

Once again the deep bass of Sy's voice pulled you back to the present.

"It's perfect. I'm not surprised, to be honest, he probably has some fancy heating syste-euhm...", your voice trailed off when you saw Sy's beautifully beefy chest. His baggy swim trunks hung low on his hips and the hair from his chest trailed down all the way to-

"Sugar?"

"P-perfect", you babbled, "UH- the water! It's perfect...nice and warm"

He threw his signature grin your way and you swore you felt your knees buckle. That grin was almost too much to handle on a regular day. The grin + him shirtless + THE SNAIL TRAIL???? Yeah you didn't stand a chance.

"You gonna swim with the robe on, Sugar?"

"Jeez, Captain if you wanted me to strip that bad all you had to do was ask"

Alright, you may have sounded confident, but this was all fake it till you make it.

Sy jumped in the water to hide his grin, nearly splashing you in the process.

You threw your robe on one of the pool chairs and your eyes found his right as he resurfaced. He took you in, you could tell. For a second you had the urge to cover yourself up, hiding the parts your black bikini failed to cover, but you opted against it, desperately trying to keep the confident act up.

It was quiet for a second or two while you just looked at each other.

"Perfect...", his voice was barely above a whisper, "The uh..., the water. You were right, the temperature is perfect."

You couldn't help but smile as you realized he was just as nervous as you were. Finally, you fully got in the pool too, relaxing a bit as the warm water surrounded you.

"I could get used to this", you sighed.

"We could put a kiddy pool in our living room If that makes ya feel better?"

You snorted at that, "Yeah, and then have Aika jump in and our entire place smelling like wet dog? No thanks, that kinda takes away the whole relaxing aspect in my opinion"

"Oh alright, Miss Fancy", he splashed some water your way.

"Fuck SY! I wasn't gonna wet my hair!" you shrieked.

"What kinda bullshit is that? Why would you get in the pool if you didn't wanna wet your hair?", his eyebrows furrowed, "too late now anyway, Sugar" he chuckled, splashing you again, right in your eyes this time.

"Ah, shit!" your hands flew to your face as you frantically rubbed your eyes as you turned away from him to shield yourself.

"Shit! Sorry, Sugar, u okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine you fucking idiot", realization didn't hit you until you saw the black streaks on your palms, "Fuck, I was wearing makeup", you mumbled.

Alright. You knew it was ridiculous, wearing makeup to the pool. But it wasn't a lot or anything, just some mascara and a little bit of concealer here and there. You weren't even planning on it, honest to god. But when you thought about Sy seeing you in a bikini for the first time you couldn't help but feel a bit insecure, so you needed something to bump your confidence, just a little bit.

You should have known boys will always be boys. And there's no keeping it dry when Sy is around anyway.

"Sugar? You can turn back around now, I promise no more splashing",

Ugh fuck fuck fuck...You still had your back to him. You couldn't turn around now, you probably looked like a panda. And you didn't want him to know you wore makeup to the pool, he would never stop laughing at you.

"I uh...I think I'm gonna get out...I'm getting kinda cold", you tried to keep your face away from him as you made your way to the ladder, but as per usual, he was too quick for you.

"What? The pool is heated, besides, I can keep ya warm. I swear I'm sorry Sugar, c'mon don't leave?", you felt his big hands circle your waist under the water, pulling your floating body closer to him in a matter of seconds. Your back hit his warm fuzzy chest and you stiffled a moan.

Okay, he wasn't gonna let you leave, new plan...

You desperately wiped under your eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't see.

"Wh-are you...are you crying?", he sounded genuinely concerned, "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to Sugar I promise, lemme see", he carefully turned you around in his arms

"No no, Sy you didn't hurt me, I'm not crying I just..." your eyes met his and for a second he looked even more confused, "Why do you look like Batman?", he grinned.

"Ugghhhh..." you groaned in embarrassment, "I just...I just tried out a new mascara this morning and I forgot I had it on...I have makeup wiped in my bag upstairs just lemme go take it off", you rambled trying to get out of his grip but he didn't budge.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Sugar, just do that later."

"Sy, I'm not being ridiculous I LOOK ridiculous, just let me go fix it I'll be back in a minute."

You tried leaving again, but this time his big paws grabbed you by the face, gently but still firm.

"You don't look ridiculous, Sugar...C'mere..."

For a second you thought he was going to kiss you and your eyes fell shut, but instead, you felt his thumbs wipe away the dark streaks.

"There ya go...all better", he smirked. "No more Batman."

"Ugh, shut up", now it was your turn to splash him.

"Oh don't start what you can't finish, dear." his devilish smirk was enough to make you squeal as you backed up.

"No, Sy come on! My hair!", you swam as fast as you could, and just when you thought you could get away, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle.

"Oh no ya don't", he pulled you back to him within seconds, and just like that...your hair wasn't the only thing getting wet against your will...

"I think your face could use another wash," was all he said before pushing your shoulders down under the water, you came back up immediately gasping for air.

"I can't believe you did that!" you sputtered as he just stood there laughing. You didn't even think before jumping on his back, trying to push him down. Looking back that may have been a dumb idea because the captain didn't budge. If anything, it just made him laugh harder. "Aww, isn't that cute? Well, Sugar if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me..."

"No, Sy", you felt his arms tighten around your legs, "no no no no no n-" he dove underwater, keeping his promise and indeed taking you with him.

"T-truce" you breathed out the second you got up for air, "truce truce truce!", you were out of breath, probably looking like a drowned panda bear and the chlorine mixed with your leftover mascara was stinging in your eyes, "fucking hell, this was not as relaxing as I had in mind", you muttered to yourself.

Sy chuckled, obviously he was looking handsome as ever while you felt like you looked like you were just spit out by something.

"C'mere...truce accepted," he gently pulled you against him again, his fingertips trailing down your sides to your thighs, 'up', he commanded and you unsurely wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him guide you. "there ya go, good girl."

You felt your cheeks heat up and told yourself it was just from his body heat.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and snuggled into the crook of his neck while he slowly floated the both of you through the warm water. A wave of exhaustion suddenly came over you. You were too tired and comfortable to overthink what exactly was happening.

_____________________________________________________________

"Hey Sugar..."

"Hmmm?"

"I really think we just get out now..."

It took you a while to realize you were still in the pool, still in Sy's arms.

"Hm fuck...did I...did I fall asleep?"

"Only a little"

"How long was I out?"

"A good 20 minutes, never seen ya shut up for that long, had to check if you were still breathing"

You wanted to make a snarky comment but all you could muster was a grin before finally peeling yourself off of him and getting out of the water.

"Im starving," Sy said as he reached for his towel.

"Yeah, me too. Do you wanna order pizza? I'm too scared to touch anything in that kitchen"

"Sounds good, probably for the best anyway, don't need ya setting the place on fire"

You threw one of your towels at his face, "Shut it, Syverson. I'm showering first and if I were you i'd be nice to me cause I won't hesitate to use up all the hot water."

"S'fine, Sugar. I'm a military man. Nothing I can't handle", he grinned and watched you turn around with a smirk on your face.

"I could probably do with a cold shower anyway..." he muttered to himself as he watched you walk away, thanking all that was good and pure for not letting you notice the massive hard-on he was hiding while you were snoozing in his arms.

"You order, I shower", you yelled back, "I'll take pepperoni, Cap!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

45 minutes later you and Sy sat on the massive suede couch, freshly showered, clad in fluffy white bathrobes, and munching on pizza.

"That's such bullshit!" you laughed

"Is not! I swear to you, Sugar! He just stood there in nothing but a thong. Traumatized the entire squad."

"Where the hell did he get a thong in the middle of the desert?!"

"Fuck do I know?! He musta brought it with him?"

You were dying laughing, like actually proper laughing. Tears nearly in your eyes, face red hot, snorting out laughing.

"Sy, there is no way one of your men walked around on base in the middle of the night in nothing but a thong."

"Sugar, I swear to ya, I'm a lot'a things, but a liar ain't one of 'em."

"So what did you do?"

"Sent the fucker home."

"Maybe that was his plan all along? Maybe he just wanted to get sent home?"

"Maybe, Sugar. Maybe." he took another swig of his beer as you chomped down the last bite of your pizza and a comfortable silence settled over you.

"I think I should probably head to bed, I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, me too", he agreed, "I'll just take some things out'a the room and then I'll be good to sleep here."

"Sy, please, don't be silly", you argued, "I was drooling on your shoulder barely an hour ago, I'm sure we can share a bed for one night."

He chuckled at that, "Alright I guess you got a point there, but only if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure genius, but no funny business", you pointed your finger at him.

"Yes ma'am, Roger that", he smirked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Skincare done, teeth brushed, hair blow dried, perfume sprayed, pajamas on.

Alright, okay. There's only so much you can do to get ready for bed.

"You're gonna have to go out there sooner or later" you spoke softly to your own reflection.

Jesus Christ this was ridiculous. This was YOUR idea. It's just sleeping. You did it before. Earlier tonight, in fact. Just get out there, get in the bed, close your eyes, and go to sleep. Nothing special.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you wanted it to be special. What if he didn't? Oh god, what if he DID?

You took a deep breath and finally opened the door.

"Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find my night cre-...Sy?"

There he was. Bulging shoulders on full display, the muscles on his back moving with each breath, the waistband of his boxers peeking out just above where the sheets covered his butt.

His bearded face snuggled into his pillow, his large arms curling underneath it.

You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him. The true definition of a gentle giant. It was beyond you how someone could look so fucking sexy and so fucking cute at the same time.

You finally crawled into bed next to him, careful not to wake him up. But as you turned over on your side to turn your nightlight off, you suddenly his beefy arm snaked its way around you and pulled you close to him.

You barely managed to flip the switch before feeling his warm chest against your back again. His beard tickled the back of your neck a little making you grin, soft snores telling you he was still fast asleep..

It felt so good, so safe, so warm, so comfortable...you dozed off with a smile on your face, and not a care in the world...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist:

@metalbuckaroo

@princessayveke

@montsepliego

@scxrletrecsmarvel

@hopelesslyrogers

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

@tfandtws

@vicmc624

@ahahafudge

@enchantedbarnes

@wickedravyn

@pono-pura-vida

@amayaraestyles

@matchat3a

@fictional-hooman

@sebastianexplicit

@peaches1958

@avengersfan25

@jamneuromain

@tryingtoliveonmywishes

@mrsevans90

@daybreak96

@tiredqueen73

@fallingforunrealisticromance

@identity2212

@randomweirdoss

@ragamuffin285

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@geralts-yenn

@imjusthereforliam

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@enchantedbytomandhenry.

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[wyattjohnston]

with the posting of the masterlist, the summer fic exchange 2k24 has come to an end! 33 fics written by 31 people. i am eternally grateful that these exchanges are still going strong and that people are having fun with it!

please read all the fics below, even if it's a player you don't normally read for. a lot of work has gone into these fics and they all deserve your time. make sure to reblog and leave comments when you've read it!

please respect all warnings at the beginning of fics. if a fic has been marked as smut or 18+ and you are younger than, do the right thing and do not read it.

i'm still unsure if i'm running a winter exchange or if i'm going to maybe reconsider the timing, but please come back and feel free to ask questions around november/december if i haven't said anything!

the summer fic exchange 2k24 masterlist

Boston Bruins

Jeremy Swayman

Indoor Cat by @nhl-stories for @ bqstqnbruin

Carolina Hurricanes

Andrei Svechnikov

i’ve been yours since you stepped through the door tonight by @writingonleaves for @ callsign-denmark

Third Time's the Charm by @typical-simplelove for @ kurlyteuvo

Frederik Andersen

But Baby, It Feels Like Love by @callsign-denmark for @ mp0625

Chicago Hawks

Teuvo Teravainen

I Think I Dreamed You Into Life by @kurlyteuvo for @ lila-rose

Colorado Avalanche

Nathan MacKinnon

hide the sun by @ohmyeyesmyeyes for @ wyattjohnston

Edmonton Oilers

Connor McDavid

i'm half-doomed and you're semi-sweet by @offside-the-lines for @ hiding-from-reality-56

Leon Draisaitl

… but you're going to by @senditcolton for @ thewintersoldierdisaster

Blue Hair and Pronouns by @hiding-from-reality-56 for @ nhl-stories

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

always attract by @dunnerlars for @ sc0tters

truth or dare by @boqvistsbabe for @ ohmyeyesmyeyes

Montreal Canadiens

Cole Caufield

four weddings and a funeral by @thewintersoldierdisaster for @ prettytoxicrevolver

Juraj Slafkovsky

Summer Vacation by @prettytoxicrevolver for @ lam-ila

New Jersey Devils

Dawson Mercer

Baseball and Love by @lam-ila for @ hischier-papaya

Jack Hughes

CHASING YES by @puckology101 for @ tonsypep

Nico Hischier

home is just another word for you by @fallinallincurls for @ puckology101

felt like magic by @laurenairay for @ selfindulgentpoorlywritten

good luck, babe by @nol-pat for @ fallinallincurls

turbulent by @wyattjohnston for @ dunnerlars

walked in and dream came trued it for ya by @gravestrain for @ nol-pat

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

First Time Feeling by @huuuuughes for @ ahockeywrites

truth or dare by @dunnerlars for @ writingonleaves

Matt Martin

I can't help it if I like it by @laurenairay for @ comphy-and-cozy

New York Rangers

Alexis Lafreniere

Romance in The Hamptons by @lifeofpriya for @ wildrangers

Matt Rempe

MEDICINE by @lila-rose for @ 2 manytabsopen

Pittsburgh Penguins

Anthony Beauvillier

one night standards by @comphy-and-cozy for @ offsidethelines

Tattoos of You by @bqstqnbruin for @ senditcolton

Ryan Graves

The First Time by @selfindulgentpoorlywritten for @ gravestrain

Seattle Kraken

Philipp Grubauer

Pfirsich by @mp0625 for @ huuuuughes

Toronto Maple Leafs

Joseph Woll

sunset by @hischier-papaya for @ lifeofpriya

William Nylander

I Wish You Would by @wildrangers for @ typical-simplelove

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

somehow still stuck on you by @matthewtkachuk for @ boqvistsbabe

walkin' with his head down, i'm the one he's walking to by @tonyspep for @ laurenairay

if the person you wrote for hasn’t read and reblogged your fic, please tell me.

i only tag the person who wrote the fic as there are limited tags.

[wannabehockeygf]

Snow's Falling - Matthew Tkachuk

So... I did a thing, and I wrote an entire Tkachuk mini-fic instead of working on my other WIPS (sorry LOL) Word Count: 10k

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x fem! reader

Tags: Fluff, texting, self-discovery, don't know what else

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Notes: This takes place a few years back, when he was still on the flames (alberta girl by heart I couldn't bring myself to write about Florida), I'm gonna say it's around 2020-2021 (ignoring covid ofc). This was going to be smutty but I decided against it halfway through writing. (***) is kind of like a chapter/long time skip, (---) short time skip. AND LETS JUST IGNORE HIS BIRTHDAY IS ACTUALLY THE SECOND WEEK OF DECEMBER! THIS IS NOT PROOF READ! My eyes hurt so just lmk if something is wrong. Also it might be repetitive because this is basically just an idea dump lol.

ratthew grow that hair out again I’m begging

***

CALGARY, ALBERTA was the best city in Canada - to you, anyway. Close to every time someone said that you were wrong, you defended it with your entire heart and soul, as if your life depended on it. You knew that the negative forty winters would always be outshined by the sheer atmosphere of the city, the people, the everything.

This was your hometown, after all. And to you, absolutely nothing would have beaten it.

That was until a couple of weeks ago, a gloomy early November afternoon when the first snow of the year had just started falling, and you were laying down on your plush leather couch in your loft apartment. The dim light from the overcast sky filtered through the large glass windows, casting a soft, grayish hue over the room. The warmth from your latte radiated through the ceramic mug, the sensation slightly burning the tips of your fingers. You had your laptop propped on your lap as you reviewed a slideshow from your last lecture, the glow of the screen reflecting off your eyes. The soft hum of the city’s afternoon rush filled the room, a symphony of distant car engines and muffled conversations.

You momentarily turned your head to the large glass sliding door leading to your balcony, watching the snowflakes fall gently, each one a unique crystal dancing its way to the ground. Winter was here, and it wouldn’t be long before you would have to trade in your baseball caps and leggings for jeans and beanies. The thought of it brought a small, nostalgic smile to your face as you envisioned snow-covered streets and the festive lights that would soon adorn the city.

Your phone suddenly started ringing, snapping you out of the magical, snowy trance you were stuck in. The ringtone pierced the tranquil atmosphere, making you jump slightly. You reached for it, your nicely manicured nails clacking against the screen as you swiped right to accept the call. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you asked, your eyes now focused on your laptop screen again, though your mind was still partially lost in the falling snow outside.

“Hey,” your boyfriend’s voice came through, clearly deflated and even slightly shaky, “Can we talk?”

You immediately sat up, propping up your back with a pillow as you put your latte on the coffee table. The warmth from the mug lingered on your fingertips. “Of course, what’s up?” you replied, concern whirling within you.

Your boyfriend sighed, a sound heavy with unspoken words. “I don’t even know how to say this, but… um, we need to break up.”

The words hit you like a blizzard, much like the one outside, but this one was much worse. You felt as if the ground beneath you had disappeared, leaving you to float in a surreal void. “Wait, what?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why? What happened?”

“I just… I don’t think this is working anymore,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I think it’s best if we both move on.”

Your mind raced as you tried to process his words. You thought back to the times you’d shared together, the laughs, the arguments, the moments that had defined your relationship. It was as if the day you met on the University of Calgary campus a year ago was just yesterday, and it didn’t make sense. How had it come to this?

“Is there someone else?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

“No, it’s not that,” he replied quickly. “It’s just… I’ve changed. We’ve changed. I think we’re both heading in different directions.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously, unwilling to let them fall. “But I love you,” you said, your voice breaking.

“I know,” he said softly. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

The line went silent for a moment, and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears, so hard it felt like it was about to explode out of your chest. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do, as you’d never felt pain like that before.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I really am. I hope we can still be friends.”

You knew those words were meant to comfort, but they only made the pain worse. “Yeah,” you said, forcing the word out. “Me too.”

You hung up the phone, your hands shaking. The laptop screen in front of you blurred as tears filled your eyes. You leaned back against the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest as sobs wracked your body, completely and utterly. But the noise outside continued, oblivious to your personal storm.

Calgary wouldn’t stop moving, no matter what happened to you. ***

1 month later

Your thumb rolls against the lighter, the spark flaring up in the dim room as you ignite it, tipping a holly berry-scented candle toward the flame until the wick begins to blacken at the end. The warm, spicy scent fills the air, mingling with the cool night breeze wafting through the open window. The white duvet beneath you crinkles softly as you lean back into the plush comfort of your bed, picking up your phone to scroll mindlessly. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face in the otherwise dark room, casting fleeting shadows as you swipe through various posts.

You come across an Instagram story from a girl you’d met in a campus library a few years back. The story is a screenshot of texts she had exchanged with her ‘number neighbour’—a person whose phone number differs by just one digit. The joke in her story is that her neighbor turned out to be a thirteen-year-old boy, but the concept intrigues you nonetheless.

Despite the nagging voice of reason, you press the messages app. Your thumbs work swiftly, typing your number but with the last digit counted up. The screen's light reflects in your eyes as you lean over to turn on your bedside lamp, casting a warm glow that lights the room halfway. You snap a selfie, making a thumbs-up gesture toward the camera, a half-smile tugging at your lips. You type out a jokey message along with it, and after a brief hesitation, you tap send. Nothing too bad could happen, right?

You: Happy birthday man, hope you had beers on the house! [insert selfie]

After sending the message, you throw your phone across the bed. It lands on the opposite corner with a soft thud. It's already eleven-thirty, and whoever your 'number neighbour' is, if they even respond, probably won’t do so until morning. You shut your eyes, the flickering candle casting dancing shadows on the walls. The room is filled with the comforting scent of holly berry, lulling you closer to sleep, even though you know you’ll have to put the candle out eventually. Exhaustion takes over, and you're seconds away from drifting off.

Until your phone pings.

You jolt awake at the sound, your heart skipping a beat. No way, right? You reach over to your phone, the screen lighting up the dim room. The notification icon indicates a new message, and with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, you unlock your phone to see what they said.

???: Haha thanks, didn’t know it was my birthday today!

Attached is a picture of the side of a man’s face, brown curls falling down his forehead glistening with sweat. You can see a gym behind him and a dimple on his cheek as he mirrors your thumbs-up, but nothing else besides half of a blue eye. The photo is taken from an upward angle where you notice he is wearing a muscle shirt, and lord, is he fit.

You: You’re at the gym this late?

???: Hell yeah. Best time, honestly. Knocks me right out when I get home.

You: Fair enough, guess we’re both night owls.

???: Guess so.

You let the text sit for a while, unsure how to respond, but to your surprise, another text comes through five minutes later.

???: So, who am I talking to?

You stare at the screen, debating whether to reveal your identity or keep the conversation anonymous for a bit longer. There's something intriguing about this mystery man, and a part of you wants to prolong the curiosity. You decide to play along.

You: Your number neighbour. Saw it on someone’s story. You’re not a thirteen-year-old boy, are you?

???: Last time I checked, no. Definitely not a thirteen-year-old boy.

You can't help but chuckle at his response. There’s something about this mystery conversation that feels oddly comforting, a small distraction from the heartbreak that still lingers. You decide to keep the banter going, finding solace in this unexpected connection.

You: Good to know. Would be weird if I was texting a middle schooler.

???: Agreed. So, can I get a name, number neighbour?

You bite your lip, contemplating his request. This playful anonymity has provided a small, thrilling escape from the heartbreak you are still nursing. But something about his confidence, and the hint of charm in his words, makes you want to take the plunge.

You: Maybe... It depends. Are you going to tell me yours first?

There is a pause, and you imagine him standing there in the gym, perhaps wiping sweat from his brow, considering how much to reveal. The anticipation is oddly exhilarating.

???: Fair enough. I'm Matt.

You: Just Matt?

Matt: Well, Matthew, but nobody calls me that unless I'm in trouble.

You chuckle softly, the sound breaking the stillness of your room.

You: Y/N

Matt: I like that name. Suits you.

Matt's reply brings a faint smile to your lips, a small flicker of warmth in the otherwise chilly aftermath of your recent breakup. Though you know you’re young and attractive, allowing yourself to flirt with this random stranger feels like a gift to help heal from the heartbreak.

You: What do you mean by that?

Matt: It’s pretty.

His words strike a chord, echoing a sentiment you haven't felt in a while — someone noticing you beyond the surface, beyond the pain you carry. It’s refreshing, and you find yourself drawn to the conversation more than you expected.

You: You think I’m pretty?

And then you wait for his reply. And wait. And then, wait even more, lying back on your bed, your phone lying beside you as your arms have turned limp, and stay there until your eyelids get too heavy for your own good. ---

The next morning, you wake up with a frown already imprinted on your face. It's probably a bad idea, but getting a bit of attention and then losing it is tough, especially considering your last message. You sit up, the bed frame creaking as you look out the window. It's already the second week of December, and all the roofs visible from your downtown apartment are coated in snow. The Christmas season is starting to kick in, the only thing you can look forward to – you love Christmas.

That night, while lounging around your apartment and revising for your final exams, your phone buzzes. You pounce on it, hoping it's mystery Matt.

Matt: Shit, sorry. Had to finish up last night and was working all day.

You glare at the screen. What a lame excuse, you think. He didn’t even answer your question, and now he's claiming he worked all day. You toss your phone aside, giving him a taste of his own medicine. It works for a bit, but an hour later, another text comes through.

Matt: Wyd?

You roll your eyes, still irritated by his earlier silence. But curiosity and a hint of loneliness get the better of you, and you decide to respond, albeit with a touch of sarcasm.

You: The glamorous life of a student. Studying. What about you?

Matt's response comes almost immediately, as if he's been eagerly waiting.

Matt: Ah, finals season, huh? Not jealous of that.

You sigh, feeling conflicted. You want the attention but are still annoyed by his lack of response. Despite that, you find yourself typing back.

You: Well, good thing it’s not you then.

Matt: I’m sorry?

You: Were you actually at work?

Matt: Yeah? Why would I lie about that?

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wants to believe him, to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the other part is wary. Right as you’re about to type a response, a text from Matt comes through, replying to your text from the previous night.

Matt: Is this about this?

You: Sure, but you don’t have to spare my feelings. Come on, just lay it on me. It’s not you, it’s…

Matt: I was going to say yes.

You stare at Matt's message, slightly shocked. Maybe he wasn't ignoring you after all. His response is straightforward, almost vulnerable in a way that makes you pause.

You: Oh. Sorry, I guess I’m just stressed. And maybe a little attention-starved.

Matt: Any reason for that?

You consider how much you want to reveal to Matt. Despite the initial frustration, his directness appeals to you. Maybe it's the honesty or the fact that he seems genuinely interested, unlike your recent ex who struggled with communication.

You: Just dealing with some personal stuff. It's been a rough couple of weeks.

Matt's response is immediate, with a tone of understanding.

Matt: I get that. Breakup?

You pause, surprised at his insight. It's as if he can read between the lines of your texts.

You: Yeah, actually. Sorry for being so standoffish earlier.

Matt: Haha, I’m a strong guy, I can take it. Also, sorry about the breakup. They suck.

Five minutes later, another message comes through.

Matt: Not trying to be weird, but how old are you?

You: 21. You?

Matt: 23. I was just asking because I was going to offer to help you with the attention-starved thing. If you’ll have me?

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to interpret Matt's offer. His straightforwardness is refreshing yet slightly intimidating. But something about his persistence intrigues you. After a brief pause, you decide to play along.

You: Hmm, are you suggesting you're good at providing attention?

Matt: I like to think so. At least, I try.

You can't help but smile at his response. There's a sincerity in his words that feels genuine, a stark contrast to your recent breakup.

You: What do you have in mind?

Matt: Well, I take from earlier that you like being complimented?

Your cheeks burn as his directness now feels endearing rather than abrupt. Despite your initial reservations, his straightforward approach is comforting. You decide to indulge him a bit.

You: Depends.

Matt: I think you have really nice eyes. Not much to go off of, so if I ask real nicely, will you send me more pictures of you?

You pause, considering Matt's request. His boldness is surprising and oddly appealing, especially given your recent emotional rollercoaster. You crave the distraction, the validation, and perhaps a connection that feels less complicated than your recent relationship.

You: Maybe. What do I get in return?

Matt: Compliments. And attention.

You: Wow, charming, aren’t you? Are you always this forward?

Matt: Only when I’m interested. And I’m definitely interested.

His words send a flutter through your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement. You find yourself smiling as you send him a picture of yourself at your birthday party from a few months ago, in a black bodycon dress and a tiara.

A few minutes pass before his response pops up, making your entire body heat up.

Matt: Permission to call you hot?

You laugh at his confidence. Matt's interest feels like a soothing balm for your wounded heart. The combination of his directness and warmth is intriguing, and a part of you wants to see where this could lead.

You: Permission granted.

Matt: You’re hot. Like, seriously. Wish I’d met you sooner.

You: You’re just trying to get into my pants, aren’t you?

Matt: Well, if you’d rather have a normal conversation with you, I will, gladly. But you wanted a distraction, right?

You: Maybe I do.

Matt: Then, how do you prefer to be distracted?

You: You might be on the right track.

Matt: Cool, I think I can handle that.

A few minutes pass before he texts again.

Matt: So… what are you wearing?

You: Seriously?

Matt: Haha, just kidding. Unless… you want to tell me?

You smirk at his cheekiness, feeling a playful spark ignite within you. The conversation has taken an unexpected turn, and the idea of engaging in a flirtatious exchange with Matt is both thrilling and liberating. You decide to play along.

You: Just a sweatshirt and flannel shorts. Nothing special, lol.

Matt: Doesn’t matter if it’s nothing special, bet you still look cute.

You: What about you?

Matt: Just sweatpants. Why? You wanna see?

You: Is there a problem with that?

Matt: Not at all. One sec.

A moment later, your phone buzzes with an incoming picture. You open it to see Matt standing in his bedroom, the camera angled to capture his athletic build. He’s shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, revealing his defined muscles. The dim lighting casts shadows that accentuate his physique. Once again, you don't see his face, but his curls are frizzy and unruly this time.

You don’t respond for a while, simply ogling the photo.

Matt: Cat got your tongue?

You: No.

You start typing an explanation, an excuse, maybe even a confession that you definitely saved that photo, but he beats you.

Matt: Your turn.

You: You want my face or my body?

Matt: Whatever you’re comfortable with, I can work with.

With a deep breath, you angle your phone upwards, hiking up your shorts so the curve of your hip is visible. Your oversized sweater shows nothing, but above are your lips, curved in a small smile, with the frame cutting off right before your nose. The city lights are visible behind you in the window. You snap a photo and quickly send it.

Matt's response is immediate, a single word that makes your pulse quicken.

Matt: Damn.

You feel a surge of satisfaction mixed with nerves. It's exhilarating, this dance of teasing and flirtation, each message building upon the last. You are both exploring new territory, testing boundaries, and reveling in the mutual attraction.

You: Like what you see?

Matt: Very much so. But I want to see more.

Your heart races at his boldness. There's no denying the chemistry between you, the electric tension crackling through the phone screen. You hesitate for a moment, your mind racing with possibilities. Finally, you decide to indulge in the moment, letting go of the hurt from your recent breakup and embracing this new, exciting connection.

You lie down on your bed, holding the phone above you as you pull down your shorts until the waistband is around your hips. You roll up your sweater, exposing part of your torso, and your legs are mostly visible as well, cutting off at your feet. Your fingers tremble slightly as you snap another photo, the dim lighting in your room casting a soft glow over your skin. With a mix of nerves and excitement, you hit send before you can overthink it.

Matt: Fuck. You're stunning.

His response sends a thrill down your spine, a rush of validation and desire mingling with the lingering ache of your recent breakup. Yet, with Matt, it feels different — liberating, even empowering. But, you decide to tease him.

You: Wow, cold. My face isn’t even in that.

Matt: You’re right. Let me see that pretty face.

You decide to give him what he wants. You take another photo, this time showing your face but still with an element of playfulness. You angle the camera to capture a side profile, your sweater slightly off your shoulder, revealing a hint of skin. The soft lighting accentuates your features, and you smile subtly before hitting send.

Matt's reply is almost immediate.

Matt: Beautiful. Seriously. How far do you live from Calgary?

You: I’m in Calgary, actually. Why?

Matt: Me too. And I want you to come over.

You freeze, Matt’s proposition hanging in the air like a charged current. The idea of meeting him in person, after this electrifying exchange, both thrills and intimidates you. It’s a leap into the unknown, a step away from the safe cocoon of your apartment.

You: I don’t even know what you look like. Kind of weird, don’t you think?

Matt: Fair enough, I’ll hold off for now. I gotta bolt now though, early morning tomorrow.

You feel a mix of relief and disappointment at Matt's response. Part of you is grateful for the pause, giving you time to process everything that has just happened. The other part, however, is buzzing with anticipation, wondering what could happen next between you two.

You: Early morning plans? What do you have going on?

Matt: Just work stuff. I’ll text you later, okay?

You: Sure. Good luck with it.

Matt: Thanks. It was fun.

You stare at your phone screen, heart still pounding. Matt’s presence lingers in your room, his image imprinted in your mind. You can’t deny the chemistry, the attraction that crackles between you, but you decide not to respond. You have to keep him on his toes somehow, right? ***

One week later

The floors are sticky, even with your already wet boots from the snow outside against them as you walk into the bar. Some classic country music blasts as cowboy hats are tipped, giant belt buckles are moving, and beers are drunk. Many beers are drunk.

You shove your way through the sea of dancing bodies towards the bar, spotting a single empty worn-out barstool which you happily slide into. This specific bar has line dancing every weekend, but this Friday is their annual Christmas hoedown, which is basically just a fancy name for ‘get drunk in some maybe holiday themed western clothing and dance.’

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of beer, sweat, and a hint of pine from the Christmas decorations strewn about. The bar is a hive of activity, the kind that can either drown out your sorrows or amplify them, depending on your mood. Tonight, you're here for a distraction, and although you're alone, it's a way to escape the emotional rollercoaster that has been your life for the past few weeks.

Sliding onto the barstool, you wave at the bartender, a burly man with a Santa hat perched on his head. "Whiskey sour, please," you call out over the music. He nods and gets to work, mixing your drink with practiced ease.

As you wait, you can't help but scan the room, your eyes landing on groups of people laughing, talking, and dancing. It's comforting in a way, seeing others immersed in their own worlds, each person a small part of the larger tapestry of life. You sip your drink, the sharp tang of whiskey and lemon cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

"Hey there, mind if I join you?" a voice interrupts your musings. You turn to see a man with a friendly smile and an impressively large cowboy hat standing next to you, vaguely recognizing him, but not enough to put your finger on it.

You look the man up and down, not hesitating for long before replying, “You gonna buy me a drink?”

The man chuckles, tipping his hat back slightly to reveal a pair of twinkling blue eyes. "I guess I can manage that," he says with a grin. "What’ll it be?”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised at how easily you slip into the flirtation. "Whiskey sour."

He signals to the bartender, catching his attention immediately. “Another whiskey sour for the lady, and a beer for me.” As you wait, you take in his appearance more closely. He's tall, with broad shoulders and a rugged charm that fits perfectly in the country bar setting.

Soon enough, your drinks arrive, and as the handsome cowboy slides the drink towards you, you're already distracted by the hockey game on the TV. The Oilers are on tonight, and although you're a Calgary native, the Flames never really struck you like Edmonton did.

The cowboy seems to notice your distraction, glancing up at the screen to see what caught your attention. "Hockey fan?" he asks, leaning a bit closer to you, his voice cutting through the loud country music.

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah, what about you?” you ask as the cowboy takes a seat beside you.

Handsome Cowboy leans his elbow on the counter, bringing his beer to his lips before meeting your eyes. "You could say I dabble," he offers.

You cock your head, confused but deciding to trudge on. “You got a name?”

The man’s eyes widen as he glances away for a moment, only coming back to meet your gaze with less confidence than he initially had. “Chucky. The name’s Chucky.”

You raise an eyebrow, taking another sip of your drink as you study the man once again. “Chucky? Like that possessed doll?”

Chucky chuckles at your remark, a deep, throaty sound that sends a flutter through your stomach, “Sure, you could say that,” he replies, tapping his fingers on the bar, “Hopefully not as creepy though.”

“Not creepy,” you start, looking back up at the TV, “Just not really my type.”

Chucky clutches his chest dramatically as he laughs, “Ouch, you wound me,” he says before gesturing to the TV, “Well, what if I told you my type isn’t a girl who’s an Oilers fan?”

You purse your lips, turning back to Chucky and crossing your arms. “What’s your type, then?” you question.

"I like a woman who enjoys being spoiled," Chucky says, his voice growing huskier. "Someone who loves the feel of strong hands on her body, who appreciates a man who knows how to treat her right."

You roll your eyes. “What a charmer,” you offer, although you’re stuck staring at him, your heart skipping a beat at his boldness. This conversation is moving fast, yet you find yourself unable to look away. "And you think you're that man?" you ask, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

Chucky leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "I know I am," he whispers, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "But that's something you'll have to discover for yourself."

He pulls away slightly, his crooked teeth formed into a knowing smile as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. A flush creeps up your neck, your heartbeat quickening. The thrill of the exchange, the hint of danger in his confidence—it's a potent mix, drawing you in despite your better judgment. “How do I find out?” you breathe, your voice shaky.

Chucky's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans back slightly, taking a slow sip of his beer before responding. The noise of the bar fades into the background as his gaze locks onto yours, his expression serious yet playful. “Oh, so I am your type?”

"I didn't say that," you reply with a smirk, keeping your tone light despite the heat rising in your cheeks. "But you seem awfully sure of yourself."

Chucky's smile widens, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans back against the bar, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident. "I've been around long enough to know what I want," he admits, his voice low and gravelly. "And I know how to make sure a pretty girl like you enjoys herself."

Your breath hitches at his words, your heart continuing its erratic rhythm as you look into his eyes. Weirdly enough, you sort of feel a little guilty for replacing the mystery man on your phone, but that doesn’t even begin to overpower the strong attraction you feel for the man in front of you. “Can I take you up on that?” you ask.

Chucky's grin widens, clearly pleased with your response. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. "Oh, sweetheart, you've already taken me up on it by sitting here with me." His gaze flickers with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, more intense as if he knows exactly the effect he's having on you.

You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet his intense gaze. The noise of the bar seems to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of charged anticipation. Chucky reaches out, his hand brushing against yours on the bar top. His touch is electric, sending a jolt of awareness through you. “What d’ya say we dance?”

Your eyes widen as you look at his hand on top of yours, calloused fingertips brushing gentle circles. “I’m not really a good dancer,” you admit, your voice small.

Chucky chuckles softly, his thumb still lightly tracing patterns on the back of your hand. "Don't worry about that, darlin'. Ain't nobody here judging your dancing skills tonight." He leans closer, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Just relax and let me lead."

You think it's weird he's talking like that even though his accent is city-like, but before you can protest or agree, he slides off the barstool with an easy grace, extending his hand towards you. The invitation hangs between you, laden with unspoken promises and the allure of something new and exciting. You hesitate for only a moment, then place your hand in his, feeling the warmth and strength of his grip.

As he leads you onto the dance floor, the crowd seems to part effortlessly, creating a small pocket of space just for the two of you. The music shifts to a slower tempo, a country ballad that echoes through the dimly lit bar. Chucky pulls you close, his other hand settling firmly at the small of your back, guiding you in gentle sways to the rhythm of the song. Despite your initial hesitation, you soon fall into sync with him, allowing yourself to be swept away by the rhythm and the warmth of his presence.

The other dancers around you blur into the background as you focus on Chucky's steady gaze, his blue eyes holding a magnetic intensity that sends a thrill through you. With each sway and turn, the space between you seems to shrink, the attraction between you palpable in the air.

As the song draws to a close, Chucky doesn't release you. Instead, he holds you even closer, his cheek brushing against yours as he whispers softly in your ear. "You're a natural," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You catch your breath at Chucky's whispered compliment, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at his closeness. His breath against your ear sends a tingling sensation down your spine, and you can't deny the thrill of being held so intimately by this charming stranger. "Thank you," you manage to murmur back, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the dim lighting and the pulsing music around you, it feels as if there are only the two of you in that moment, cocooned in your own private world.

Chucky's hand remains at the small of your back, his touch reassuring yet tinged with a subtle electricity that seems to ignite every nerve ending in your body. His presence is magnetic, drawing you closer with each passing second, and you find yourself unable to look away from his captivating blue eyes.

"I could dance with you all night," Chucky admits, his voice low and husky. He's about to say something else, only to suddenly stop and reach into the back pocket of his worn-out jeans, pulling out his buzzing phone while keeping an arm snaked around your waist. “Sorry, doll, I’ve gotta take this.”

Before you can protest or even get a word out, he has disappeared into the crowd, and your body is suddenly at a loss for his touch. You stand there for a moment, slightly dazed by Chucky's abrupt departure. The lingering warmth of his touch, his hand on your back, and the intoxicating thrill of the dance still pulse through you, leaving you with a mix of confusion and anticipation.

As you scan the crowded bar, you catch glimpses of familiar faces and strangers alike, each lost in their own conversations and revelries. The music continues to throb in the background, a steady rhythm that seems to echo the beat of your racing heart.

Time passes painfully slow as you wait, and wait, and wait.

Until he doesn’t come back. *** Another week later... It's two days before Christmas, Christmas Eve Eve as you and your family lovingly call it, and you find yourself alone. The cityscape outside your window is already cloaked in a soft blanket of snow, the streetlights casting a golden glow on the flakes as they drift lazily to the ground. It's already eight pm, a time when you'd typically not be alone. However, last year your loved ones decided to take a leap of faith and move an hour out of Calgary, so regular visits aren't really a thing anymore. But you're planning to make the drive out tomorrow and spend the night for Christmas.

You stand in your apartment, the sticky bits on the bottom of your fuzzy socks squeaking against the shiny hardwood floor as you look around the living area. You haven't told anybody yet, but you're moving as soon as your semester ends, transferring to Toronto where you'll finish school and hopefully live a new, better life. Although you love Calgary, lately everything around you radiates hurt. Boxes are strewn around, a messy scrawl in Sharpie on them identifying items from various rooms. The living room, once a cozy haven, now feels like a cardboard maze, each box a reminder of your impending departure.

With a sigh, you open the cabinet above your fridge, taking out a half-empty bottle of rosé that you bought earlier that week. It's a cheap, screw-top bottle, but admittedly you needed it to get you through all the stress of your exams. Now that they're over, you can finish it without worrying about waking up hungover. The bottle feels cool in your hand, a small comfort in the midst of your turmoil.

You take a wine glass out of a different cabinet and twist the cap once before your phone suddenly buzzes. You grab it, wondering who could be texting you at this time.

Matt: Hey, can I call you?

Your heart skips a beat as you read Matt's message. You've been talking to him non-stop, whether that just be texting, or calling, or sexting - every waking moment, besides when he had his weird work stints, you were talking to him. You hesitate for a moment, glancing around your half-packed apartment, the wine glass in your hand a stark reminder of your current solitude.

You: Sure, give me a sec.

Quickly setting the bottle of rosé and the glass on the counter, you walk over to the couch and settle in. You take a moment to steady your nerves, then press the call button when his name pops up on the screen.

The phone rings only once before he picks up. "Hey," Matt's voice comes through, warm and familiar.

"Hey," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, sorry about that," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "What are you up to?"

Your eyes dart to the kitchen island where the bottle of wine is waiting, and then around at the chaotic mess of the room before responding, "Nothing in particular. You?"

Matt's chuckle comes through the line, a warm, comforting sound that makes you smile despite the mess around you. "Just chilling. Wanted to check up on you. Need any compliments yet?"

You chuckle softly, feeling warmth spread through you at his playful tone. "Maybe a few wouldn't hurt," you reply, leaning back into the couch and tucking your legs beneath you. "It's been a crazy week."

Matt's voice softens, taking on a teasing tone. "Well, I could start by saying that I still can't get over how gorgeous you looked in that photo you sent me. And if you're half as funny and smart in person as you are over text, then I'm in real trouble."

He pauses, and you hear a slight hum come from him. "Crazy good or crazy bad?" he continues, this time his voice carrying genuine concern.

"A bit of both," you admit, glancing around at the half-packed boxes. "Exams are over, but I'm in the middle of packing up my life. Moving to Toronto next semester."

There's a pause on the other end, and you wonder if you've shared too much too soon. "Wow, that's a big change," Matt finally says. "Why Toronto?"

You sigh, the weight of the decision pressing on you. "I just need a fresh start. Calgary's been... difficult lately. Too many memories, too much heartache. I think a change of scenery will do me good."

"I get that," Matt says softly. "Um, speaking of that, I was gonna ask whereabouts in Calgary you are?"

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. "I live near downtown, not too far from the river. Why?"

There's a brief pause on Matt's end, and you can almost hear him thinking. "You free right now?"

Your pulse quickens at Matt's unexpected question. The idea of meeting him in person, after all the teasing texts and late-night conversations, is both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "Yeah, I am, why?" you say, wanting to get a little more information out of him.

"Well," he starts, and you hear rustling on his end, "As much as I enjoy this anonymous text-flirting thing we've got going on, I would love to see you in person."

You furrow your eyebrows, wondering if this is going where you think it is. "And… do what?" you ask, deciding to be straightforward with him. "Like, hook up?"

"No!" Matt says quickly, almost panicked. "I-I mean, if you want to, I wouldn't mind," he concedes, his tone softer. "But I had something else in mind."

Your curiosity is piqued, and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear what Matt has in mind. "Oh? And what might that be?" you ask, a smile tugging at your lips.

Matt's voice softens, taking on a tone that is both sincere and slightly hesitant. "You got ice skates?"

You blink in surprise at Matt's question, the unexpected turn catching you off guard. Ice skates? You haven't been ice skating in ages, not since you were a kid. But there's something oddly charming about Matt's suggestion, a whimsical twist in contrast to the flirtatious banter you've shared so far.

"Uh, yeah, I think I have a pair somewhere," you reply, scanning your cluttered apartment mentally to remember where they might be buried. "Why do you ask?"

Matt's voice is shaky, almost nervous as he responds, "Well, I don't know how to convince you that I won't kill you, but I know a nice outdoor rink on the west side."

You find yourself grinning ear-to-ear, even though the concern of him maybe kidnapping you is in the back of your head. "Are you asking me on a date?" you say, your tone giddy from the smile that won't seem to fade off your face.

Matt chuckles nervously on the other end of the line, his voice slightly muffled as if he were pacing or moving around. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admits, his tone laced with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I mean, if you're up for it. Just thought it'd be nice to actually meet in person, you know?"

Your heart flutters at Matt's sincerity, the nervous edge in his voice endearing rather than off-putting. Despite the initial shock of his unexpected request, you find yourself warming to the idea of meeting him face-to-face. "Okay," you agree, "But I'm sharing my location with everyone in my immediate family, just in case you kidnap me."

Matt lets out a nervous huff of air. "And that's completely understandable!" he says, his voice cracking slightly. "I mean, who am I, really? I could totally be…" He trails off, and you hear a thud. "Fuck, you're kidding, aren't you?"

You chuckle softly at Matt's flustered response, finding his nervousness strangely endearing. "Relax, Matt," you reassure him, amusement evident in your voice. "I'm just messing with you. I trust you enough to meet up."

There's a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a relieved sigh from Matt. "Okay, good," he replies, his voice steadier now. "I promise I'm not a serial killer or anything. Just a guy who wants to take you ice skating." He pauses, seeming to debate something. "I can… pick you up if you want?"

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the offer in your mind. It's a bold move, letting him pick you up, especially since you haven't even seen his face yet. But something about Matt's voice, his nervous excitement mixed with genuine sincerity, makes you feel oddly reassured.

"Sure," you reply, trying to sound nonchalant despite the flutter of anticipation in your chest. "I'll send you my address."

After exchanging a few more logistical details and promising to text when you're ready, you end the call with Matt. Sitting back on your couch, you stare at your phone for a moment, the reality of what you've just agreed to sinking in. Meeting Matt in person feels like a leap into the unknown, a step away from the safe confines of text messages and phone calls.

With a mix of excitement and nerves, you head to your bedroom to find your ice skates. As you rummage through your closet, you can't help but smile at the thought of what the evening might bring. Ice skating under the stars with Matt—whether it turns out to be magical or not, it's definitely going to be memorable.

Finding your skates buried under a pile of old clothes, you pull them out and place them by the door. You quickly freshen up, change into something warmer, and glance at yourself in the mirror, wondering what Matt will think when he finally sees you in person. Your reflection shows a mix of anticipation and nervousness, your cheeks slightly flushed with the excitement of the evening ahead.

After a deep breath to steady your nerves, you grab your coat and keys and send a quick text to Matt that you're ready. By the time you hear a knock on your door later that evening, you're both nervous and eager. Opening the door, you're greeted by a man. A man with broad shoulders, frizzy brown curls, and dark blue eyes. A man that you've definitely met before.

You look up at him, your eyes wide. “Chucky?” you drawl out, your tone unsure.

Chucky/Matt (?) stands there in the doorway, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he shifts his weight nervously from one foot to the other. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The realization slowly dawns on you – Matt is Chucky, the charming cowboy from the bar, the man who whisked you onto the dance floor and left you literally aching for his touch.

Matt shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, his sheepish grin faltering slightly. "Hey," he finally says, his voice a mixture of nerves and apology. "Surprise?"

You blink, trying to process the revelation. "You're Matt?" you ask, the realization sinking in. "You're Chucky?"

Matt nods slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, look, I probably should’ve been upfront,” he starts, leaning against your doorframe, “But when I saw you at the bar, I couldn’t help keeping the whole mystery thing going.”

You nod slowly, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. Part of you feels a bit betrayed by the secrecy, but another part can't deny the attraction and connection you've felt with Matt, both as Chucky and as himself. "I guess I understand," you say finally, your voice softening. "But why the cowboy persona?"

Matt chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know, I guess I thought it added to the charm," he admits, looking somewhat sheepish. "Plus, it was fun to see where it would lead. Clearly, it led to this." He glances away for a moment, out towards the hallway before meeting your gaze again.

You furrow your brow as you stare at the man before you. Chucky was still a weird name to you, and Matt looked so much more casual than Chucky, even though they’re the same person—dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants with a warm winter coat on top. His curls stick out of the beanie he's wearing which reads ‘Calgary Flames Hockey Club’.

Matt gives you a nervous smile, clearly awaiting your reaction as you stare at the Calgary Flames logo on his beanie, then back at his face. It's surreal to see the man who swept you off your feet as Chucky now standing before you in casual attire, looking more like a regular guy than the charming cowboy from the bar. The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, but there's still a lingering sense of disbelief.

"You're Matthew Tkachuk," you say slowly, more as a statement of realization than a question.

Matt raises his eyebrows, then nods. “Is that a bad thing?” he questions.

It isn’t, but you're in complete shock. "You're Matthew Tkachuk," you repeat, this time with a hint of disbelief and curiosity. "The hockey player?"

Matt nods again, his expression holding a hint of skepticism. “Yes? And, yeah, the reason why I left that night is because my agent needed to talk contract stuff with me.”

You take a step back, your mind racing. Matthew Tkachuk, the star winger for the Calgary Flames, stands before you, in the flesh, looking every bit like a regular guy out of his hockey gear. The realization sends a flurry of thoughts through your head—how could this be happening?

“There’s no way… I didn’t recognize you,” you murmur, looking up at him wide-eyed, “Didn’t I literally rave about the Oilers to you too?” You continue ranting, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Holy shit, how much did I embarrass myself in front of a professional athlete?”

Matt cocks his head, “Embarrass yourself? Trust me, you’re doing just fine,” he starts, studying your face intently, “Can you promise me something, though?”

Matt's gentle reassurance and the warmth in his eyes help ease some of your embarrassment, though the shock of discovering his true identity still lingers. You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

"What is it?" you ask cautiously, curious about what Matt could possibly want from you now.

He smiles softly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Treat me like a normal guy? Let’s just have fun tonight. I’m not Matthew Tkachuk, hockey player, or Chucky, sexy cowboy, I’m just… Matt.”

You nod slowly, still processing the surreal turn of events. "Okay, Matt," you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Let's just have fun tonight."

Matt's smile widens, his relief palpable. "Great," he says warmly, stepping closer to you. "Ice skating under the stars, just two regular people enjoying each other's company." ---

The outdoor rink is serene when you arrive, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the overhead lights. The ice shimmers under the illumination, casting a magical reflection. As you lace up your skates, Matt's touch is gentle and reassuring as he helps adjust them. The crisp night air fills your lungs with each breath, carrying the scent of pine and fresh snow.

Once on the ice, Matt moves with effortless grace, gliding backward with a practiced ease that makes it look like he's dancing on the frozen surface. His beckoning smile is both inviting and encouraging, urging you to join him.

You laugh nervously, feeling the unfamiliar wobble beneath your feet as you find your balance. "I haven't done this in years," you admit, a mix of excitement and apprehension making your voice tremble slightly. Matt's grin widens as he skates closer, his eyes sparkling with a playful light. "Don't worry, I've got you," he assures you, holding out a steady hand. "Just take it slow and enjoy the glide."

You tentatively take Matt's hand, the warmth of his palm a comforting contrast to the chill in the air. His guidance is steady, and soon, you begin to relax into the rhythm of skating. The cold air brushes against your cheeks, crisp and invigorating, carrying the faint scent of winter and the promise of a memorable night.

Under the canopy of stars, the night feels almost enchanted. The soft swish of skates on ice echoes around you, blending harmoniously with the quiet whispers of the winter breeze. Matt leads you in gentle circles, his movements smooth and fluid, occasionally pulling you closer for a playful spin or to steady you whenever you stumble.

As you skate, you find yourself holding both of his hands, his touch both firm and gentle as he guides you backward. His gaze never leaves yours, creating an unspoken connection that makes you feel both vulnerable and safe. Matt pulls you gently into a spin, his hand firm and steady at your waist. For a moment, the world around you blurs, leaving only the sensation of movement and the comforting warmth of Matt's touch. The night air feels crisp against your cheeks, heightening your senses and adding to the enchantment of the moment.

"See? You've got the hang of it," Matt says with a grin, bringing you to a stop in the center of the rink. "You're a natural."

You laugh, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Thanks to your expert coaching," you reply, teasing him lightly. "I never expected my evening to turn out like this. I mean, I was ready to drink half a bottle of wine on my own."

Matt chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Neither did I," he admits, his tone earnest. "But I'm glad it did. It's nice to just... be myself for a change."

You nod in understanding, appreciating the vulnerability he shows in sharing that sentiment. "I can imagine," you say softly, leaning into him. "So, what's it like being a professional hockey player?"

Matt shrugs, his expression thoughtful. "It's a lot of pressure sometimes," he confesses. "But I love what I do. Hockey's been my passion since I was a kid."

“I get it,” you reply, your hands at the nape of his neck toying with the few stray curls, “Just keep being yourself, okay?”

Matt nods, and for a moment, all you can hear is his uneven breathing, the cool air making it visible. He swallows hard, not offering anything else as he just… looks at you. No words needed, just that look in his eyes, and you were set, although, you still probed him. “What is it?” you say, softly.

"I've been thinking about kissing you," Matt admits, his eyes still very much locked on yours, although they flicker to your mouth for a second. "I want to see if your lips are as soft as they look in your pictures."

Your heart skips a beat at Matt's confession, his words sending a rush of warmth through you. His gaze holds yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. The quiet hum of the night around you seems to fade into the background, leaving only the anticipation of what could happen next.

"You do?" you reply softly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought of kissing him. Despite the unexpected turn of events and Matt's celebrity status, there is an undeniable chemistry between you, a connection that has been building throughout the evening.

Matt nods slowly, his expression earnest yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "If you're okay with it, of course."

A smile plays at your lips as you lean closer to him, closing the gap between you. "I think I'd like that," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without another word, Matt gently cups your face in his hands, his touch surprisingly tender. His lips meet yours in a soft, hesitant kiss, testing the waters. The sensation of his lips against yours sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire that seems to pulse between you.

The kiss deepens as you respond eagerly, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch. Matt pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace as the world around you fades into the background.

Only when you feel a cool, wetness on your nose do you pull away, keeping Matt close and looking up to see that it had started snowing. The snowflakes float gently down around you, casting a magical aura over the quiet rink. Matt's arms remain around you, his gaze soft as he brushes a snowflake from your nose with a gentle smile.

"It's snowing," you murmur, feeling the cool touch of the flakes against your cheeks. The winter scene adds to the enchantment of the moment, making it feel like something out of a romantic movie.

Matt chuckles softly, his breath forming a small cloud in the chilly air. "Perfect timing," he replies, his voice low and warm. "It's like nature's way of adding a touch of magic to tonight."

You can't help but smile back at him, feeling a rush of warmth despite the cold around you. The kiss has deepened your connection, and now, standing in Matt's arms with snow falling around you, it feels like the world has slowed down just for the two of you.

As the snow continues to fall gently around you, Matt holds you close, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. The quiet intimacy of the moment is punctuated only by the soft rustling of snowflakes and the distant hum of the city beyond the rink. Time seems to stand still as you look up at him, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he feels.

"You know," Matt says softly, brushing a stray snowflake from your cheek, "I didn't expect tonight to turn out like this, but I'm really glad it did."

You smile up at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for the unexpected connection you have found. "Me too," you reply honestly, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's been... surprisingly wonderful."

Matt nods, his gaze lingering on your face. "I'm glad I got the chance to meet you," he admits, his voice tinged with sincerity. "Even if it started off a bit... unconventional."

You chuckle softly, remembering your initial encounter with "Chucky" at the bar, and the whole number neighbour gag. "Unconventional is one way to put it," you agree, your tone light. "But it definitely made for an interesting story."

Matt grins, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "A story I hope we can continue," he says, his fingers tracing patterns on your lower back. "Maybe without the mystery personas next time."

You lean into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his hands against your skin. "I'd like that," you reply softly, feeling a sense of comfort and ease in his presence. "No more secrets, just... us."

"Us," Matt repeats, his voice almost a whisper as he leans in closer. "I like the sound of that."

The snowfall around you intensifies slightly, creating a picturesque backdrop for the moment. You find yourself lost in Matt's eyes, the world around you fading away as he gently brushes his lips against yours once more. This time, the kiss is filled with a quiet tenderness, a silent promise of things yet to come.

When you finally pull away, a contented smile plays on your lips. Matt rests his forehead against yours, his arms still around you as if he never wants to let go.

“Us and the snow falling.” ***

EPILOGUE

You never ended up leaving Calgary. After your relationship grew with Matthew as the flowers grew in the spring, you found your love in the city again, not just with him, but with yourself, too. 

Eventually, Matthew got traded, to Florida of all places, and the first thing he did was ask you to come with him. At first, you were unsure - you didn’t want to leave your hometown. So, you guys tried long distance for a bit, just until you found your footing in creating your own small business, and eventually moved there with him. Miami brought a new chapter in your life, one that you wanted in the first place, but this time around, you were secure in yourself and your relationship.

And that’s how you found yourself right by the glass at Amerant Bank Arena. It was game seven of the Stanley Cup Final where your, now husband, Matthew, would play against your childhood team for the biggest honour in his sport. Gently, you held up your baby girl, adorning sound-isolating headphones, and of course, a tiny Tkachuk jersey against the glass as Matthew skated over during warmups. He leaned in close to the glass, pressing a gloved hand against it as he mouthed, "I love you" to both of you. Your daughter giggled, her eyes wide with excitement as she watched her dad, scruffy playoff beard and all, skate effortlessly on the ice. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a swell of pride and love for the man who had become not just your husband but your partner in every sense of the word.

The game was intense, and, admittedly, you wouldn’t really mind if the Oilers had won, but it was all eyes on Matthew and the Panthers as they gave it their all. 

Pandemonium erupted in the arena as the final buzzer sounded, and the Panthers had won. Players flooded onto the ice, celebrating their hard-earned victory. Amidst the sea of cheers and applause afterward, the families were let onto the ice, and Matthew made his way to where you stood, his eyes shining with happiness and disbelief.

He embraced you tightly, lifting your daughter into his arms as he kissed both of you, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "We did it," he whispered.

You smiled up at him, tears of joy in your eyes. "You did it," you corrected gently, knowing how much this moment meant to him and to your family. Because this was it. He was it.

[strangersteddierthings]

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Pizza order successfully placed, Steve dials Robin's number next. He doesn't need to talk long, just... hear her voice. Maybe get some verbal support.

"Buckley residence."

"Thank God it's you," Steve sighs in relief to hear Robin's voice on the other end. There was a little bit of dread that her mom might have answered and then he'd be stuck on the phone while she tried to chat with him.

"Whoa. Was hosting the nerdfest that bad?" Robin asks, laughter in her voice.

"Uhh," Steve starts, because he's eloquent like that.

"Oh no. Was is that bad? What happened?"

He feels a flood of warmth for Robin's immediate concern. "No, no, nerdfest was fine. I, uhh, mostly I'm calling because Eddie and I are gonna, like, hang out and talk and I just- I dunno. Wanted to hear your voice, first."

"Oh. Really? Well. Here's my voice. This is you hearing it."

He laughs at that. "Thanks. It's just, I think it's gonna be, like, a bathroom floor kind of conversation, except in my living room on a couch."

"Oh! I can be there in ten if you need me."

"Nah. This is just- me needing to hear your voice, and also a warning that I might have to crawl through your window and fall apart on your bed later. Just don't know how this is going to go."

"I'm here if you need me. Are you going to talk about Freshman First Day?"

"We, uhh, already did. Mostly. There's been apologies and now we're gonna talk. Get to know each other. Play 20 questions, I guess."

Robin laughs at that. "Alright. Ask him if he's ever going to get me the sandwich he owes me from back in November."

"What?"

"You know, his whole cafeteria speech thing? Stepped right on my ham and cheese. It did make him slip and almost brain himself, and he did apologize. Told me he owed me a new sandwich. I never got it. Ask for me."

"We'll see. Okay, I'm going to go but, thank you. Love you."

"Love you, too. Window will be ajar."

Steve hangs up, then opens the fridge. He debates grabbing them beers but opts for soda. Back in the living room Steve finds Eddie sitting like a normal person on the couch, one leg bouncing relentlessly. Even with his superficial knowledge of Eddie, he can tell he's nervous. Not nervous Eddie would be perched on the back of his couch, ruining the cushions with whatever junk is on the bottom of his shoes. Probably.

"Soda?" Steve offers, plopping himself on the other end of the couch, hand outstretched for Eddie to take the beverage.

"Thanks." The bouncing of Eddie's leg pauses for a moment while he's opening and chugging half the can in one swift motion, then the bouncing starts again.

"Hey, man, relax. You didn't seem nearly as nervous when you were trying to sneakily hang out earlier."

Eddie lets out a big sigh. "Yeah, well, I didn't know you hated me then."

"I don't hate you."

"Oh, shit, no. Not what- I meant, like, past tense. Hated as in, used to hate. Not present tense."

"Ah. Well, I don't think I 'hated as in used to hate' past, like, three months into my freshman year. This is going to be the most self-absorbed shit ever, but, like, once I became popular, I couldn't be bothered to hate you. Didn't have the time to put towards that."

"Oh, of that I've no doubt. That was absolutely the read everyone who tried to interact with you got."

Steve ducks his head to hide his own embarrassment by fiddling with the can in his hands. "I thought you wanted to do, like, 20 questions or something."

"Oh. Serious? You'll do it?"

"Yeah."

"Right then. What even are the rules for 20 questions? Is it 20 questions each, or in total asked?"

"I dunno, man. I don't think people actually keep track. I think we just ask questions until we're done with talking. I guess the rules are don't lie, and if you don't want to answer a question, then don't. Pass on it, or whatever."

Eddie nods but he's still nervous, leg still bouncing. A look on his face so close to fear it makes Steve ache a little. He knows too well what far looks like on Eddie, experienced a week's worth of it.

Steve can start. Ease them into this. "Do you got a favorite color?"

Eddie shifts then. Turns sideways on the couch to lean against the armrest and face him. "Wait. One more rule. No mocking answers. You may laugh once at an answer."

"If you are about to tell me it's hot pink, I cannot follow that rule."

"It's not hot pink. Jesus. It's, uhh, brown, actually," Eddie says, rolling his can between his hands. "It used to be red but. I dunno. When I think of red, now, I think of the sky in the upside down and how that was almost the last thing I ever saw. I think of blood, and bleeding out."

And here he thought he was easing them into this with the most basic of questions. Eddie's already being vulnerable. "Follow up question, if you'll allow it. Why brown?"

"What's wrong with brown?"

"Nothing. Just thought you'd pick black or something," Steve gestures to all of Eddie.

At that, Eddie looks down at his mostly black outfit, the only part of it with any color is the DIO album art on his shirt, then back up. "Fair point. I guess brown just makes me think of home. The wooden porch, the paneling, brown dirt road that leads to the trailer. It's also, like, a good eye color. Exhibit A," He waves his hand in front of his face, batting his eyes exaggeratedly. It pulls a laugh from Steve.

"I can't argue that," Steve waves towards his face, where his own eyes have been described by many a girl as ranging from hazel to honey, but Steve just thinks of them as brown. "Your turn, man."

"You, tragically, had never heard of Ozzy before we met. What's your music of choice, and why is it the Top 40?"

"Like everybody didn't hear you singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody last week when it came on the radio at the Byers' Barbecue-"

"Whitney is a national treasure and I will not be slandered for knowing the words to any of her songs."

"Yeah, yeah. I guess it was just the Top 40, but really I don't have a preference. I just let other people pick the music. And, uhh, with the multiple concussions I don't listen to as much music as I used to. The migraines are brutal. It's never the music that brings on the migraine but like, it never helps, y'know?"

Eddie is nodding. "I do know. Like when you get sick and vomit, you avoid the last thing you ate, even when it turns out to be the flu and not food poisoning. Like, you know it wasn't the mango milkshake that made you throw up, but you avoid the mango flavor anyway."

There's definitely a full story in that somewhere. Maybe Steve will ask about it later. "Kinda? I don't avoid music but I don't think I've put a record or cassette in the player in months. Anyway, my turn. How'd you learn to play the guitar?"

"Wayne. He started teaching me before I live with him. Just a few chords when we'd visit every so often when I was little. Really got to learn after he took me in. I was eleven, if memory serves."

"Am I allowed to ask about your parents?" Steve interrupts.

"Yeah. Speaking of parents," Eddie's nervous again, bouncing his leg.

"It's your turn. Ask."

"I know the high school reputation. Big house, no parents. I might have even snuck over a few times to sale here when I knew a party was happening. Rich kids will pay whatever price you name, y'know? So, guess the actual question is, what's the deal there, with your parents?"

Steve would laugh except he has no memory of ever seeing Eddie at his house prior to all the fuckery that's gone down. He was too in his own head to bother with other people back then. And the real kicker? He probably bought from Eddie, at his own house, with his supposed grudge and all. God, he was such a dick. "Yeah. Lots of business trips, for them. The used to ship me off to spend a month with my grandparents when I was little, so they could take those trips. Guess once I was old enough to watch after myself, those trips started to happen whenever, instead of just over summer."

"What, they left you here alone as a kid? Even during the school year?"

Eddie sounds so scandalized it'd be funny if it wasn't so sad. Steve says, "I wouldn't say kid. I was fourteen, so, like, a teenager. But, yeah, gone a lot. More and more with each passing year. I mean, they've been back, but like, for a day or two. Mom switching out what jewelry she wanted and dad bit by bit emptying his office." He pauses with a frown, remembering now the last time he did see his parents face to face. "It was about halfway through senior year. The last time they were here. They didn't even come to my graduation."

Eddie sucks in a breath and Steve can visibly see him hold back some choice words.

"Anyway, long sob story short, I'm still just a rich kid with absent parents. They don't charge me rent or anything, but I pay to keep the lights on."

"That just adds so many more questions to my list."

"Well, it's my turn now, so. What got you into Dungeons and Dragons?"

Eddie looks surprised, and then guilty. "I've always liked fantasy. And, uhh, my Freshman First Day, the DnD booth was set up in the cafeteria, an okayish looking dragon drawn on the poster taped to the booth's edge. And, uh, I approached..."

"No one told you to fuck off?"

"I didn't tell you to fuck off."

"Might've hurt less if you had," Steve hadn't even meant that to be insulting, or insinuating, but it doesn't land. He'd been aiming for teasing and missed the mark, given the way Eddie jerks back, like he's trying to put more distance between them. "Oh, shit, Eddie, I didn't mean- I was-"

The doorbell rings out and both jump, turning to the front door like it might bite them. The bell chimes again, and it's then Steve remembers he ordered pizza. Wordlessly Steve gets up and deals with that. Pays for the pizza and gives a tip, stops in the kitchen long enough to grab some napkins, then folds himself back onto the couch, placing the pizza box on the cushions between them.

The time away from the couch, less than three minutes in total, Steve thinks, was enough to calm Eddie again, since he starts the teasing, "greasy pizza box directly onto the cushions! That'll never come out you know."

Steve shrugs and grins, flipping the box open to grab a pizza slice. "That's a problem for Future Steve."

Eddie grabs his own slice, and they just eat their first slices in silence before Steve breaks that, "I really wasn't trying to- earlier, I was trying to joke. About Freshman First Day. Not, uh, not like, pick a fight. So, if you still want to talk, I think it's your turn to ask a question. Any question. A big question."

"Alright. A big one. Who is Christopher?"

"Okay. Uh, just, give me a moment. I'll answer and I'm gonna be real honest right now with you, so just let me get through this, ok?"

Eddie nods, reaching for a second slice of pizza.

Steve gathers his thoughts, and speaks. "Christopher was my cousin. His family lives in Washington, so I don't see them much. You know that 'shipped off to the grandparents' thing I told you about earlier? Christopher, and his younger siblings, Amber and Robert, also came out to visit.

"I think my grandparents loved to have us all there. My cousins were there for family time, and I was there to just... not be in my parent's way, I think, but the reason why doesn't matter. The important bit. Christopher was two years older than me, and I thought he was the coolest person in the world. I wanted to be just like him. That last summer we spent together, he told me all about the game of Dungeons and Dragons he'd played with his club at school.

"It made me want to play. I was a kid who loved fantasy, too. I had to pretend to leave that behind when I got into middle school; too afraid of disappointing my dad for still liking make believe. I didn't know at the time that making him proud was just something I'd never achieve.

"Anyway, Christopher introduced me to the game, told me the entire campaign they'd run at his school, and then sent me those books. He's the reason I was at the booth that day. If Christopher could play sports and be a nerd, maybe I could, too? But, uh, that didn't go how I planned in my head. And, then. Then," Steve stops here, a knot in his throat but his eyes dry. It's not that he doesn't still mourn the loss of Christopher, it's just that the tears have dried up long ago. "Christopher committed suicide, that year. Halfway through the school year. I think... I think even if I had joined your club, if you had let me take that flier, I would have dropped out after the funeral. I'd wanted to join so bad so that Christopher would be proud of me."

The room has lost focus, now. Steve is staring forward but he doesn't really see Eddie anymore. It's like he's fallen into his thoughts and nothing else exists anymore. "It's a bit fucked up, but being older than me, I think I looked for approval in him that I didn't find in my dad, or maybe I wanted to be him because his parents were so proud of everything he did and I wanted that. Approval. I- it's- I think I used to confuse the two. Approval and love. Maybe I still do? I dunno.

"I guess I just wrapped all that up, the need for approval, Christopher's suicide, my love for fantasy, and shoved it in the same bottle deep down that I kept my anger at you in," Steve blinks himself back into the present. Takes in Eddie's face, a mix of sad and fond, like he wants to wrap Steve in a hug. Steve would probably let him. "That wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry."

Eddie shakes his head no. "You don't have to apologize to me, Stevie. I get it. You wore your jockness that same way I wear The Freak. Like armor. You weren't wrong, earlier, when you said we were dumb kids who learned to lash out and hurt first, so we couldn't be hurt. I was fucking, no, I am still like that. I mean, I just lashed back out at you when all you did was point out how I'd acted to you."

"Yeah, well, life gives everyone a shit hand sometimes. I used to capitalize on that. Kick people when they were down. It's- it's humbling and, like, awful, to unpack that. I know I'm still working on it, but I didn't have to do it alone. Robin and Dustin have been there for me. Great. They call me on my bullshit and it's easier to take then, hearing it from people I know who care about me."

"Guess I better ask find someone to call me out then."

"Haven't you already?" Steve asks, gesturing to himself.

Eddie barks a laugh. "I- yeah, I guess. You sayin' you care, Harrington?"

"Of course I do, man. We wouldn't be doing this -talking about deep shit and getting pizza grease all over my couch- if I didn't."

He watches Eddie turn red, and hide behind his hair. "Could just be doing it for the kids."

"I could. Guess you'll have to trust I'm not. That I also want a do over."

Eddie shoots him a big smile, dimples on full display, and Steve's happy to let go of his grudge if it means Eddie will smile at him like that more.

-

((Looks like there's going to be one more part. Thought this would be the last one but the boys wouldn't cooperate so next part.))

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wieman - Part 14

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Word : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, November 7th; 8:45 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I stretch in my bed when I realize that I won't be able to sleep any longer. I had already been tossing and turning for a good ten minutes now. I sigh as I see that it's not even nine o'clock on the radio alarm. This school is definitely changing me. It's Saturday, and I'm still stuck here. It's not such a bad thing if I think about what's waiting for me in Barcelona. My week went relatively well if you forget about my tardiness on Tuesday and the interaction with my teacher on Wednesday. I understood that Bronze didn't like it and wanted to punish me with this weekend. It only takes her disapproval for me to stay here. I also started catching up on my lessons in her office after my classes since Thursday. She's depriving me of a good part of my free time.

Well, at least I'm not alone this weekend. I learned that Bronze is also staying. We had dinner together last night and even ended the evening watching a movie. I had stupidly suggested it and was surprised that she accepted. She must have pitied my boredom. I realize now that I fell asleep during the movie and here I am alone again. She must have put away my laptop because I can't see it anymore. I don't worry too much about it and take my phone from my bedside table to check social media. I quickly get bored and decide to put my phone away and get out of bed. Too bad the rules remain the same on weekends. I never tried to take it outside since there are always at least two instructors staying. Today, one of them is Bronze, so I'm even less likely to take the risk.

I dress in jeans and a thick sweater. It's starting to get cold outside. The sun has disappeared for a few days, leaving clouds and a cool breeze. Needless to say, I'm not used to it! I brush my teeth and finish with some makeup and a brush through my hair. Before leaving, I make my bed neatly and put on my military jacket. I've grown accustomed to this jacket. It's practical and not so ugly if I wear it with regular clothes. It gives a certain style. Luckily for me, breakfast is served until nine-thirty on weekends. I have plenty of time to go. I hope to run into Bronze along the way... It seems I'm not lucky because I end up eating alone.

I go looking for her right after, as she told me she didn't mind spending the day with me. It's always better to be with her than to stay alone in my corner, twiddling my thumbs. Knowing her, she's already awake. I look in all the places she's likely to be. There's no sign of her presence. I even risked knocking on her room without permission, but no one answered. All that's left is her office... It's with relief that I finally find her there, deeply engrossed in paperwork.

- Hey, Bronze.

- Oh, hi Ona, she replies, looking up. Finally up?

- Finally? I chuckle.

- From what you told me, you don't get up early on weekends.

- Normally that's the case. This is the first time I've managed to sleep this long.

- I told you you'd get used to it quickly, she smiles. I came by your room around eight, but you were still asleep.

- Oh, sorry about that and for falling asleep last night too.

- No problem, she giggles. You needed the sleep.

- Can I stay with you?

- Of course. I won't be much longer.

I smile and quickly sit down across from her desk, on the chair that has become my spot. I watch her work and realize she's busy. I didn't know she worked on weekends too.

- By the way...

- Hmm? she responds without looking at me.

- I never had the chance to thank you for my birthday gift, so thank you. You're really crazy! What you bought me is expensive, but it made me really happy. How did you know it was my favorite gear?

- I didn't know, she smiles, looking up. I just asked the salesperson for advice and he recommended it. I'm glad you liked it. Have you used it yet?

- No, I haven't had the chance yet, but I brought it here since I didn't have anything else. Maybe I'll start using it one evening when I'm not too exhausted.

She nods before returning to her papers. I don't dare disturb her anymore seeing her so focused. She scribbles on each sheet, then flips it over to start the next one. I hadn't immediately noticed, but she's not wearing her uniform. It's the first time I've seen her in her own clothes. She's wearing a white shirt that suits her perfectly. It’s quite different from her camouflage jacket. Her hair is down in a naturally wavy style, very pretty. It's so strange to see her so... normal. She knows how to present herself. The few pieces of jewelry she wears complete her outfit perfectly. She manages to be both classy and chic. I notice her jeans fit her well when she stands to get a binder from the cabinet. My eyes widen when I see her heels. I didn't think she was the type to wear those shoes. I suppress my expression when she turns to me and frown when she hands me the binder.

- Since you're here, would you mind helping me? I need to make another stack.

- I guess I don't have a choice.

- You can say no. It just saves you from waiting around twiddling your thumbs.

- Well, you could have come up with a better argument. You're lucky I was going to say yes.

I take the binder from her hands. She sits back down and gives me the stack she just finished. I file them away without needing her instructions. I know how to do it from doing it so often. Meanwhile, she starts on the next pile.

- So, you managed to sleep longer? she brings the topic back.

- Yeah, my first "lie-in" in this lousy place, I replied, mimicking air quotes.

- Watch your language, she scolds me harshly.

- Oh, you can't argue...

- Yes, I can.

I roll my eyes, preferring not to respond. She won't let me have the last word, even though I'm sure she doesn't think any less of it since we discussed the school and Sarina with Leah and Engen. She doesn't like the new rules imposed on them, but she enforces them anyway. I'll never understand her.

- Do you have any plans today? she changes the subject.

- No... Maybe I'll take the opportunity to open a book.

- Hmm, too bad for you then... she smiles slyly.

- Why? I frown.

- I had something planned, but since you're busy, I won't disturb you.

I look at her, bewildered. I feel like she's teasing me. She should know I said that because that's what I would do if I had nothing else to do.

- Go ahead, propose.

- No, too late, she teases.

Since when does she act like this with me? I want to smile, but mostly, I want to know what she's thinking.

- Come on! Tell me, Lucy.

I try to stifle a smile as she raises an eyebrow. It's the first time I've used her first name since I learned it, and I wanted to see her reaction. I'm not disappointed. It's strange to call her something other than Bronze or commander.

- Don't call me that here.

- There's no one around, I roll my eyes.

- That's not a reason. You never know who's around.

- So, can I call you that elsewhere?

- No, she replies, making me smile.

- So, what did you have planned?

- I never said I was including you.

- You implied it!

- Until you told me you were busy.

- Oh, come on! You know very well that I'm bored here and that's why I said that!

She ignores me and continues her work with a smile on her lips. Damn... I think she's going to leave me in suspense. I hide my frustration to avoid her mocking me. To pass the time, I quickly finish the work she gave me while she finishes hers. Luckily for me, she finishes quickly. I watch her as she puts the binder back in its place and rummages through one of her desk drawers. I'm puzzled when she pulls out some keys.

- Come on, get up, let's go.

Her words catch me off guard. I stand up from my chair without asking questions. She locks her office door and looks around, as if to make sure we're alone in the hallway.

- You don't need to get ready? she asks, eyeing me.

I frown, not understanding why she's asking that. I shake my head. She smiles and dangles some keys around her finger.

- Why are you showing me that?

- Promise not to tell anyone?

- Tell what, Lucy? I ask, making her roll her eyes at the use of her name.

- Do you have any special desire today?

- I don't know. Why?

- I think it wouldn't hurt you to go out a bit after everything you've been through.

I remain silent, finally understanding her intentions. She wants us to go out?! I don't even dare ask her directly for fear of being disappointed.

- You realize you're going to break all the rules by doing this?

- If you prefer, we can stay here.

- Are you kidding?!

- Then shut up, she smiles. There are few staff members on camp this weekend. We can slip away without any problem, but I need your utmost discretion.

- Promise! I quickly reply.

- Good, let's go now then. We don't have much time.

- Not much time?

- Ingrid is handling the reception for an hour. Same for tonight, she informs me, looking at her watch. We have fifteen minutes. Come on, move!

Even Engen is in on this? I don't know if I should laugh considering the moral lesson they gave us again on Wednesday night. I quickly follow Lucy, heading towards the parking lot. We find her beautiful Audi... I'll never get tired of it! She asks me to duck down until we're out of the camp. I chuckle. I feel so ridiculous doing it, but it's for a good cause. I only sit up once we're past the reception where Engen wishes us a good day. We thank her, and then Bronze speeds through the streets. I start to recognize the road leading to downtown. I might be wrong, but it seems like that's where we're headed.

- So, any special desire? she asks again, pulling me out of my contemplation of the scenery.

- Why are you doing this? Why take me out of camp?

She glances at me. She shrugs.

- Actually, I don't know, she admits. I think you deserve it after your involuntary withdrawal and all that. Plus, I saw your dejected face when I told you you couldn't go home. I understood that you needed to see something else.

- Thank you... I murmur.

I lower my head and nervously play with my fingers. She must have noticed my change in behavior because she places her free hand on my shoulder.

- Hey, I didn't mean to make you feel bad like that.

- It's not that, on the contrary, I say, smiling timidly.

She removes her hand to shift gears. We don't talk anymore. We've just arrived downtown and we're already caught in traffic.

- I feel like I'm important to you, even if that's not the case, I say. It feels good to be taken care of like you do.

- You are important.

I look at her without hiding my surprise. She keeps repeating that I'm a student like any other. How can she say something like that now? She contradicts all the words she's upheld until now. She sighs, running a hand through her hair. I think she just realized what she said.

- What I mean is that you intrigue me. It's clear that you have a past you don't accept. I sense that you're not comfortable in your own skin, and that drives me to help you. I'll always respect your privacy and boundaries, but I enjoy learning about who you are, Ona. Plus, I have to admit that I also enjoy the little game we've set up between us. Many people, including myself, think it adds some cheer to the camp.

Her words sound so sincere. I don't know what to say or what to think. She must have sensed my discomfort because she changes the subject.

- Yeah... Anyway, it's eleven o'clock. I thought we could do a paintball session for an hour, she suggests. Then, we can eat wherever you want.

- Really?

- Yeah, and for this afternoon, we can still discuss it. I know several cool places we could go to.

- Paintball, then...? I murmur. Do you want to take me down or something? I joke.

- The idea is quite appealing, she says with amusement. But it could go both ways. We'll have a private field just for us.

- Seriously?

- Yes, I know the owner. Are you interested?

- Obviously! Like I'd miss a chance to beat you!

Her laughter makes me smile. This day is likely to be one of the best of my life. She takes the first opportunity to exit the main road to avoid the traffic. We continue driving for a few minutes before she parks in a lot. I observe the building, which looks like a warehouse with its metal facade. Lucy leads the way after grabbing a bag from her trunk. She seems to know the place well. We enter, and the decor takes my breath away. Everything is black, even the ceiling and floor. It's truly stunning! I linger on the fluorescent tags on one of the walls. They are very realistic and really beautiful. Lucy must have noticed my distraction because she calls out to me. I hurry to join her at the counter, where a man with an impressive build is standing behind it.

- This is Beth, a friend of mine, she announces.

- Hello.

- Hi, Ona.

She caught me off guard by calling me by my name. Bronze must have introduced me... or talked about me. I timidly return her smile. She seems amused by my shyness. At the same time, she is very impressive. I'm surprised by their friendship. I must be judging her by his appearance. She seems nicer than she looks.

- Well, you know your way around here, huh? she laughs. I'll leave you to it; you know the way. I've reserved room 3 for you.

- Yep, thanks.

- Have fun!

She winks at me. Lucy rolls her eyes and pulls me along with her. We arrive in a sort of locker room next to room three. I don't even know where to look. I'm really into the decor that is the same everywhere. I linger on every new drawing I see.

- Ona, are you listening to me?

- Huh?

- You're impossible, she mocks. Do you like it here that much?

- Totally! Have you seen the drawings everywhere? They're really beautiful!

- Get changed instead of daydreaming, she says, handing me a jumpsuit. I took the liberty of grabbing some clothes from your wardrobe this morning, she informs me. You need to be comfortable for this kind of activity.

I didn't even notice she took anything. I must have been sleeping soundly to not hear anything. She hands me my gray joggers and a black t-shirt. I feel like I'm back at camp.

- Even here, you're still giving me orders?

- Well, yes. Why would that change? After all, it's up to you if you want bruises.

I've never played paintball, but I've heard that it can hurt if you get shot from too close. Bronze is a regular here, so she must know what she's talking about. I get into a booth without complaining to put on my clothes, then the jumpsuit over them. It's so thick that I wouldn't be surprised if there's a bulletproof vest in there. I finish with shoes that look a lot like the boots I have at school. When I come out, I find Lucy equipped and loading our guns. A smile spreads across my face. I can tell I'm going to have a blast... Who hasn't dreamed of being able to shoot at a teacher at will? It's kind of the same thing here. She's not my teacher, but she's still my superior, my mentor, I'd say.

- Need help? I ask.

- I've got it, don't worry. Yours is ready.

She points to the gun on the bench. I pick it up and check that it's really loaded. You never know, maybe she wanted to cheat! I watch her skillfully load hers. She must come here regularly, it seems. We put on our gloves, and before we leave, she adjusts something on my outfit by zipping up my jumpsuit to my chin.

- It's uncomfortable and I feel suffocated like this, I mumble.

- But it's for safety, so you're going to leave it like that.

I roll my eyes but say nothing. We finally leave the locker room, which she locks, and head to our room right next door. My lips part as I take in the environment. I don't know where to look. This place is just getting better and better! The wall colors are still dark, but the lighting makes the room perfect. Small spotlights illuminate strategic areas without blinding us. We are on a height and can see the many walls covered with artificial foliage. The decoration is a mix between a maze and a battlefield. If there weren't some fluorescent traces on the walls, you'd think we were in a real training camp. The large room is filled with background music. It's just perfect. I follow her down the stairs.

- Well, she pulls me out of my contemplation. We're each going to our side, she points to the two flanks. All hits are allowed, but obviously, avoid the head.

- Okay.

- And also avoid close-range shots. You may not know it, but it hurts like hell, she laughs. We could end up with bruises for a long time otherwise.

- Got it, Bronze.

- Good, she smiles. May the best one win!

I watch her disappear to her side before heading to mine. I try to get my bearings. I don't know this maze, unlike Lucy probably. I try to stay alert as best as I can.

- Damn it! I shout.

I start running to take cover from the first shot I just took. Lucy's laughter echoes in the room. How did she find me so quickly? She just kicked off the festivities! I managed to find a hiding spot behind the fake leaf nets. My hideout is so good that she passes right by me without seeing me. It's funny to watch her search for me while staying on guard. It's clear she's better than me, but I can be sneakier if I want to be. I don't hesitate for a second to press the trigger several times before running away so she won't spot me.

- Well played, she laughs.

The game continues for a good while. We're literally playing cat and mouse. I admit that I'm often the mouse... We're both covered in paint, though she definitely got me more times. I'm jealous of how easily she handles it. She's so skilled at anything that requires endurance and tactics. I'm lying on my stomach, crawling to avoid being noticed. I've continued my trickery, which has successfully countered several of her attacks. She just passed by me without noticing, and I'm currently trying to find her.

- Can you explain what you're doing?

I stop dead in my tracks. I roll onto my back to see her beside me, her gun pointed at me. Damn! She mocks my warrior stance from a second ago.

- I think it's time for you to surrender, she says amused.

- Never!!!

We both start shooting at each other until I run out of paintballs.

- Is this a joke?!

- You see, all the signs are there to say I've won and you should surrender.

- Like I'd give you that satisfaction, I laugh.

I cry out in pain when she shoots me in the thigh from very close. I curse under my breath, dropping my gun to rub my thigh where it hurts.

- Okay, okay, I surrender!

I see Lucy's face change from worry to amusement. We both laugh before she slumps against the wall next to me.

- And you're the one who told me not to shoot from close! I groan.

- Sorry, it just happened, I didn't mean to, she giggles.

- Tell that to someone else, I laugh.

- Are you okay?

- I'll just have a great bruise, but I'm fine.

- I have some ointment in the bag, it'll help.

We look at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. I'd forgotten what it felt like to have this much fun. It's been a long time since I've smiled like this. We calm down, leaving a relaxing silence. She slumps next to me. There's just music in the background. It was really awesome. I briefly glance at Lucy and notice she's as euphoric as I am. It seems we both needed a moment like this. We forgot all our problems for a moment. I never thought I'd have a moment like this with her.

- Still, it was cheating... You have more training than me and you knew the layouts.

- I agree with the first point, but not the second. Beth changes the room layouts once a week.

- Damn, I thought I had an excuse...

- You did pretty well for a first time, she admits, which pleases me. Next time, we'll make teams with my friends if you want, and I'll show you how to better guard and hide yourself.

- Next time? I say, smiling

- Hmm, yes, why not. If the opportunity arises.

The idea is appealing. It would mean she'd want to spend more time together. I'd love that.

- I'd really like that.

She smiles back at me. We've made significant progress today. I feel her trust, and it's the first time she's suggested meeting her friends. I'd love to do that. Maybe I'll learn more about her true personality. I patiently await the day she'll want to open up to me like a normal person and not as my superior. I hope that moment comes sooner than I think.

- Can I ask you a question? I ask.

- Go ahead.

- It might be inappropriate, but... If one day I get a pass and you do too, could you show me around the city?

10

- Aren't you planning to go back home on your leaves?

- Yes, of course! I want to see my brother, but why not stay here once? I'd like to explore the city. I don't really feel at home in Barcelona anymore, I admitted.

- Do you think you'll like it here?

- I'm not sure. It's not necessarily the place I like, but the people. I said I wouldn't get attached, but I have to many people. Ale, Leah... Even with you or Ingrid, who I've started to find quite nice since the night we talked.

- I see, she smiled. Why not, then? I could host you for a weekend if you want.

- Really?

- Yes, but no one must know.

- I know, like today. I'm not that stupid.

- Well, she said, standing up. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry.

- Oh, yes!

My stomach growls to confirm my hasty response. I pick up my gun that I dropped earlier and get up with difficulty. I'm already dreading the soreness I'll feel tomorrow. We head back to the locker room, where Lucy lends me her famous ointment. I apply it when I'm back in the changing booth and come out wearing my clothes from this morning. Lucy is ready and is folding her jumpsuit.

- So, Ona, where do you want to eat?

- I'm really going to sound like a teenager... But I really want a good McDonald's. Is there one around here?

- Yeah, there's one right across the street.

- Yes!

Lucy helps me fold my jumpsuit properly, and then we head back to the reception area. Beth asks us how it went, and I tell her I'll be back. My answer seems to please her. We wish her a good day before leaving. The fresh air feels great. It was getting warm inside. Lucy wasn't lying when she said there's a McDonald's right across the street. I didn't even notice it when we arrived. So, we walk over. We order our meals, and she insists on paying for me. Actually, she didn't really give me a choice. That's when I realize I didn't pay for the paintball either.

- You don't have to pay for everything. I can afford it.

- Consider today a birthday present, then.

- You're really annoying! I grumbled. You've already given me gifts, and my birthday has long passed.

- Others would be happy in your place.

I grumble as I sit across from her at our table. She hands me my order since we only have one tray.

- Maybe, but I don't like feeling indebted.

- You don't have to feel indebted, it makes me happy.

I sigh, resting my head on my hand. I sulk, looking around for some distraction. There's no shortage of that in a McDonald's because there's always a crowd. Despite it being almost 1:30 p.m., there's still a lot of people in line at the counter. My eyes linger on a young girl who just walked in. She smiled at me right away. I smile back and allow myself to check her out as she continues to the counter. I must say she's quite attractive. I can't really do this kind of thing at camp. Not only are there not many girls to my taste, but I'm also observed by others. It's Lucy's throat clearing that pulls me out of my contemplation. I let go of my gaze to look at her. She has a smile on her lips and one eyebrow raised.

- Do you want me to help you, maybe?

My cheeks instinctively redden. This is what you call being caught red-handed. I wasn't discreet at all, and I feel embarrassed. It's not really like me to check out a girl. I still don't fully accept myself.

- I-... Um, sorry.

- You are way too obvious

- It's not what you think.

My cheeks heat up even more, uncomfortable with the situation. I

- No, sure, you totally weren't eyeing her.

- Shut up! This is getting embarrassing.

- Then own it, she smiled teasingly.

- There's nothing to own.

- Really. Your words make it clear you don't accept yourself.

- No, it's true. I don't, I broke down.

- I understand.

- I doubt it, I scoffed. No one can understand without having lived it.

I lift my head from my hamburger, faced with her telling silence. She continues to eat as if nothing happened.

- No, wait... Don't tell me you're a lesbian?!

- Okay, I won't tell you, she smiled, picking at a fry.

- No way! Seriously?

- Seriously.

She holds back laughter at my shocked expression. I didn't see that coming. I never would have believed it if someone else had told me. How can she say it so easily? To think I always talked about a guy when discussing her ex. She never corrected me. She probably didn't want to reveal too much.

- So, why don't you accept yourself?

- I don't know, I replied, shrugging. I consider myself as a lesbian the problem is I don't like the way people look at me because of it. I'm also scared of the reaction from those close to me... for what's left of them.

- But you already dated girls.

- Yes, obviously! Well, the first one to be honest... was Mapi...

- From what you've told me, you seem to have a good relationship. Why aren't you together anymore?

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. I hesitate. I don't like talking about myself, but even more so when it comes to my love life. On the other hand, she already knows a lot, and she just confided in me too. It makes me want to talk. I take a deep breath and gather my courage to answer her.

- Um, that's complicated too...

- You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.

- No, no, it's fine... You know, I met Feli... I began, to which she nodded. I was still with Mapi at that time. It didn't take me long to fall into drugs after that. I completely changed and somehow pushed everyone away except Feli since she accompanied me through it all... I ended up cutting off all my relationships, even with Mapi, my family, or my friends. That's how we broke up, and I naturally got together with Feli afterward.

- I see. Do you regret your relationship?

- A little, but I can't blame her. I pushed her away. Besides, she's in a relationship now. I can't afford to ruin everything.

- That makes sense. How did you start talking again?

I hate interrogations, but I can't blame her for being curious. I'm the same way. My hand finds its way to my hair again.

- We have a little ritual... Well, I don't like celebrating my birthday. When she found out, we promised to be the first to wish each other happy birthday, no matter the situation between us. We've never broken that tradition since we met. She was surprised I answered her last year since I hadn't replied to any of her messages for a long time. So she took the opportunity to talk, and that's how she learned I was in a rehab center. When she found out, she wanted to support me, seeing that I wasn't pushing her away anymore.

She just nods, not digging deeper with her questions. I usually hate opening up, but with Lucy, it's different. Everything is easier.

- As for your loved ones, I can't answer that. It's up to you to decide when you're ready to tell them. As for the looks from others... she continues. I know it's not easy. It took me a while to stop caring. Eventually, I realized that no one has the right to judge a stranger. Everyone has the right to do what they want. It's our problem if we prefer girls.

- You're right, but it's hard to face...

- It's just a matter of time, don't worry.

I smile at her. I love how she reassures me in any situation. I also love how attentive she is to what I tell her. She shows me that she cares and will never judge me. That's why I like confiding in her. It's the first time I can do it so easily with someone. Normally, I'm always hesitant. Since my detox, I've realized everything she does for me. I didn't notice it before. I'm starting to trust her. After all, she understood from the beginning that all I needed was a bit of support. She was never intimidated by my attitude, quite the opposite. Even now, she continues to manage me and put me in my place when necessary. I can feel her influence on me. She's completely transforming me. Everyone around me, especially in Barcelona, notices it. Maybe I've finally found the person who will pull me out of all my troubles... The one who will make me feel better and become myself again. The road is still long, but I'm ready to move forward now.

[ddejavvu]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

contents/warnings: bau!reader, christmas in november because i'm impatient

There's icing on your nose. You can see it if you cross your eyes, but your hands are too occupied to brush it off.

They fumble with a piping bag, trying to squeeze air out of the top while squeezing icing out of the bottom. The formerly white frosting has a black tint now, and if it lands on your cookie, the stain will be permanent.

You trace the shape of a suitcoat, tongue sticking out of your mouth as you leave enough room for a button-up. The pants are equally as simple, two rectangles merged in the middle.

"Whatcha makin'?" Penelope leans over your shoulder to peer at your gingerbread man. You glance over at her christmas tree, decked out with green swoops of icing and light-shaped sprinkles.

"It's a surprise," You mumble, still lost in thought as you search for the white icing, "Has anyone seen-?"

It's in Derek's hands. He's making an angel cookie, halo already wound around her head. It's for Penelope, you're sure.

"Morgan?" You peer up at him with shiny, pleading eyes, "Can I steal that? Just for a second."

"Snow for your tree?" He guesses, as your hand covers the shape and design of your cookie.

"Nope!" You grin mischievously at him, "You'll see."

"I love a good surprise," He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners as he hands over the piping bag with a smear of the frosting on his thumb. You're surprised he doesn't ask Penelope to lick it off, and you're even more surprised that she doesn't offer.

"That had better be good," Prentiss peers at your hidden cookie, what little she can see of it from how you're hiding it, "'Cause you used up all the black icing."

"More on the way," Rossi reaches for the big bowl of white, food coloring already in-hand, "Does anything else need a refill?"

"Red," Spencer hums from where he's surveying your cookie-decoration, gingerbread crumbs stuck to his fingers, "It's empty."

Your head shoots up to glance at the flattened red piping bag, the next one you would have asked for. Something akin to annoyance prickles in your chest at the inconvenience, but Rossi's already whipping up another batch, and JJ's santa cookie does look good.

You're happy to have Rossi on kitchen duty for many reasons. He's efficient at filling each bag when you need it, and he's too busy to complain about the mess you're making of his kitchen. When the red bag is set back on the table, plump and slightly sticky, you set down the white one, dress shirt in place.

Now for the tie, a dot at the neckline and a line down the shirt. You realize too late that you've already sacrificed the black piping bag to Emily, leaving your cookie faceless, but when she spots your eyes on it she hands it over with a kind smile.

The finishing touches are a line of hair over the top, two eyes, and a frown. You think, as you glance stealthily at Hotch, who's nursing a water and listening to Reid's explanation of the evolution of Christmas, that it looks uncanny.

"Done." You huff proudly, pushing your seat away from the table. Everyone's eyes flit towards you, although it takes Spencer a minute to finish his sentence.

"Let's see, kiddo," Rossi raises his brows expectantly, waiting for you to uncover the cookie you've been crafting.

With one swoop it's out from behind your hands, displayed proudly between your fingers as everyone peers at it.

"It's Hotch." You grin proudly, "Frown and all."

The first person to laugh is Derek. He throws his head back slightly, glancing back at Rossi when the man snorts. Penelope lets out a sharp ooh!, but covers her mouth with her hand so that her giggles are stifled. Emily and JJ share an incredulous laugh, still decorating their own cookies, icing bags frozen in their hands.

Reid squints intently at it, amusement twinkling in his eyes, "That's pretty accurate, Y/L/N."

"Actually, I think his frown is usually deeper," Rossi chuckles, "But the tie is spot on."

You've been so caught up in everyone's instant reactions that you realize you haven't glanced at Hotch himself yet, and your breath catches in your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't have joked about it.

But when you see his face, it's mangled into a barely-withheld smile, his teeth digging into his lips to keep it at bay. He knows if he reacts you'll only be egged on, but it's hard not to chuckle at the teasing.

"No," He finally pipes up, "My ties are straighter than that." His eyes are narrowed and softened as he razzes you back, and you can feel a weight fly off of your shoulders at his good-natured response. His eyes linger on the cookie a moment longer, then flit up towards your face. Everyone's going back to their own work now, and Spencer's starting up his spiel again. You hold eye contact with Hotch for only seconds more, but it's long enough for him to let his smile appear, twisting up the corners of his mouth. You duck your head before you can blush, and reach for a napkin.

Off goes the frown, on goes a smile.

You drop the newly-grinning cookie off in front of him when you refill your water, slipping it onto the counter in front of him while Reid rambles. He doesn't have time to thank you amidst a fact about old religion, but the christmas card he sends you only two days later contains his gratitude.

Jack liked the cookie you made of me, he says you should be an artist. I think so, too, the BAU's personal cookie decorator. Have a wonderful holiday season, Y/N, and I'll see you at Penelope's New Year's party.

[hedgehog-moss]

Some plant news! I've been waiting impatiently to see if the stuff I planted last autumn had survived the winter, and it's looking good so far. All my young fruit trees are blooming (quince, cherry, apple, mirabelle)

The persimmon has no blossoms but some microscopic leaves, I hope it grows more vigorous... I only lost one baby chestnut tree, which seems to have been massacred by a very angry animal. A boar having a bad day? I'll have to plant a couple more this autumn and protect them better. I can just use the remains of one of the many types of fences that Pampe has defeated.

My greenhouse now has to wear a blanket in the afternoons so it doesn't get too hot inside. I planted four flowering shrubs around it in November, so their roots will consolidate the new terraces, and I'm happy to say they are all accounted for—these two have already doubled in volume, they seem thrilled to be there:

Whereas these two all but disappeared during the winter, the ground just swallowed them; I wasn't too optimistic but they showed up again last month, with timid new leaves :) (The pics are very zoomed in, the resurrected shrubs are about the size of my fist but I'm proud of them)

Also I found wild redcurrants by the stream last year and I snapped a few small branches and just stuck them in a pot without really believing it would work. Internet said it would work but it seemed impossible. I left the pot outside all winter, never watering it or taking care of it in any way, with these four bare sticks that I sometimes looked at dubiously. It worked!!! They have leaves now! I made new redcurrant plants by sticking branches in dirt, it feels magical. They're my favourite berries too...

(My project for next autumn will be to propagate elderberry cuttings alongside the fence.) And speaking of berries, I got to eat my first aquaponic-grown strawberry today, it was delicious <3 Congratulations to the 42 fish who are hard at work fertilising the plants in the towers. There are many more strawberries in preparation!

I leave the greenhouse doors open all day when it's sunny so there are pollinators busily flying in and out, doing their job. I tried to relocate a few ladybirds to the strawberry towers to eat aphids but without success, I think they left immediately...

My lettuce and tomato plants are doing great, but the courgette plants got decimated by slugs despite my efforts to repel them. I ended up buying some organic antislug product a friend of my mum's recommended. I started new courgette seeds, and I'll wait until they're bigger to transplant them to slug territory.

The little Mexican orange tree is blossoming, and finally making new leaves (the new ones are yellow) after looking worryingly bald for a while this winter. The blossoms really do smell like orange blossoms! I know it's right there in the name but I'm still like oh look at you you talented orange tree, you got the smell of your flowers right on the first try and everything

Congrats to Mascarille who was looking for the greenhouse entrance in the above pic (she always has to walk around it a few times, she's confused by glass walls) and eventually triumphed over adversity.

Oh and I'm still getting fresh peas, in homeopathic quantities. I found that they grow well in the middle of winter so I'll plant a lot more this autumn when the towers aren't full of strawberries and herbs; for now I've started just eating them raw like little green candy.

Last but not least, Louise Michel the new hen has finally learnt how to climb my homemade stairs that lead to the greenhouse! Look at her showing off her new skill, all casually like this problem hasn't stumped her for weeks:

[labutansa]

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