#she can't wait for friday when all this shit will be over for another week

[disgruntledseagull]

aloy is hr lady coded

[alinathinkstoomuch]

COMFORT IN YOU

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader (ex!reader, i suppose) summary: even though the two of you are no longer together, hotch can't help the fact that he still has the need to comfort you. warnings | an: lil hurt & comfort, two exes making soup together but they're still blatantly in love with one another, also pretty sure this is not the correct way to make soup i was really just saying shi to make them busy, yearning i suppose?? word count: 2k

✧ masterlist

You were having what you could only describe as a series of bad days. There were no particular causes or events for them, just the uncomfortable feeling of a heaviness in your chest. There wasn’t anything glaringly wrong, but there wasn’t much that felt right, either.

For the past week, you’d been snoozing your alarm until the last possible second. Mornings turned into rushed scrambles - brushing your teeth and hair the only boxes you’d managed to check before bolting out the door. You hadn’t bothered with makeup or a decent outfit in days, simply because nothing seemed worth the effort.

You knew the feeling would pass eventually, it wasn’t a constant thing. Every now and then, you just felt…off. Like you were watching yourself from the outside, going through the motions but not really present.

You were sure there was a word for it. Something detached and clinical - Spencer had once mentioned it on a flight home from a case. The memory hovered at the edges of your mind, but you couldn’t find the energy to chase it down just to label what you already knew.

You just didn’t feel like yourself.

“You’re not seriously staying here past five on a Friday night, are you?” Penelope asked, using your desk as a dumping ground to sort through her large purse.

You glanced up with a tried smile. “No, Pen. Just finishing up. I’ll be out of here soon.”

“Okay, sugar,” she said in what was supposed to be her warning voice – though, like everything Penelope said, it came wrapped in warmth and sweetness. “Promise me you’ll go home, take a nice hot bath, light some candles –” she fluttered her fingers animatedly, “–and show yourself some love.”

You arched a brow. “Is this your subtle way of telling me I look like shit?”

She gasped, swatting you lightly with her pink glasses case. “I would never use such language. But also…yes. A little bit.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, giving her a full performance of your pretend annoyance.

Penelope just grinned, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Text me when you get home. And take care of that beautiful face, okay?” She reached out, giving your chin a playful squeeze before blowing you an air-kiss. “Self-care, my love. Don’t make me come over there and enforce it.”

“Yes, boss,” you said, standing from your seat. “Have a good night, Penny.”

Once she was gone, you stacked the last forms for your report into a folder, quietly relieved that Hotch wasn't in his office to hand it in to. It had taken you far longer to complete than usual - in fact, you were pretty sure yours was the only report he was waiting on to close out the case.

He wouldn't have given you a hard time about it – he never had – but still, you didn't want him thinking you couldn't handle your workload. Not when you both agreed the job was too important to let anything, especially your relationship, interfere with it.

You made your way into his office, the lights still on despite the fact that he'd stepped out for a meeting hours ago. It should've felt strange being in his space. Working with him. Seeing him every day, even after the two of you had mutually agreed to call it quits. But it didn't feel strange at all.

If anything, your relationship with him had stayed almost exactly the same. The only real difference was that you couldn't crawl into his arms at the end of a long day - and that was okay, or at least you had spent a lot of time trying to convince yourself that it was. You were both adults. Mature. Maybe a little too career-hungry.

You'd given it your best shot for almost a year, and it just didn't work. That was it. There wasn't anything more either of you could've done – or, if you were honest, wanted to do. Maybe if you'd both been accountants, or if one of you had decided to transfer out of the BAU, it might've worked. But neither of you wanted that.

You both loved the job exactly as it was.

So you let go.

And maybe that was love too, in its own way.

You left the report neatly on his desk, then made your way back to your own. After packing up your things, you headed out, the building quiet behind you.

On the way home, you stopped by the grocery store near your place, telling yourself you'd pick up something for a proper dinner. But somewhere between the fluorescent lights and the half-empty shelves, you settled on a frozen meal instead. Very high-nutrient of you, truly.

By the time you got home, you didn't even bother unpacking your haul. You just dropped the bags on the countertop and left them there, your keys landing beside them with a dull clink. You headed straight for the bathroom, aiming for a quick shower and could practically hear Penelope rolling her eyes at your refusal to take a proper bath.

It couldn’t have been later than eight when a knock echoed through your home. Your slippers dragged softly across the wooden floor as you made your way to the door, unsure of who you were about to find on the other side. Perhaps it was Penelope, coming over to check whether the bath salts she had given you for your birthday had finally been put to use.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Penelope standing there.

It was Hotch. Still in his work clothes, with a brown bag tucked under his arm.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” you greeted, opening the door wider to let him in.

He stepped inside without a word, moving through the space like he’d never left it. Like it still belonged to him, at least in some small way. And maybe it did. For a while, this had been his second home.

You watched him cross to the kitchen, settling the bag down beside your still-unpacked groceries.

“No Thai?”

“Not tonight,” he replied, slipping off his jacket. “I thought I’d make soup.” His sleeves were rolled up before you could even respond and he was at your sink, using your soap to wash his hands to make you dinner.  

You really couldn’t make this up.

You took a seat on the bench, folding your legs beneath you as you watched him unpack the contents of the bag. “Did you read my report?”

He didn’t look up as he pulled out a bundle of parsley, a container of chicken stock and various vegetables. “I did.”

“Am I going to have to redo it?”

He glanced at you then, the faintest trace of amusement crossing his face. “No,” he said. “It was good. A little rushed, maybe – but not wrong.”

You gave dry laugh. “You can tell me to redo it, I promise I won’t get mad.”

“I know you won’t, but I also know when you’re not at your best. And I’m not going to punish you for having an off week.”

You nodded slowly, watching as he moved to grab a cutting board.

After a moment, you spoke again – softer this time. “You won’t be able to do this forever, you know.”

His eyes met yours again, but he stayed silent.

“I’m serious,” you went on, offering a small smile. “What happens when you start dating again? You’re just going to keep showing up at your ex-girlfriend’s house with soup ingredients?”

“I don’t think dating is in the cards right now.”

You tilted your head, teasing gently. “Why not? Did I leave you that emotionally wrecked?”

He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “No, you didn’t. It’s just…not where my focus is.”

You clicked your tongue, reaching for an orange from the fruit bowl. “Well, that’s a shame. Because dating is in my cards,” you revealed, digging your thumb into the skin and starting to peel.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thinking of going for a broker this time,” you mused, not looking at him as you pulled off a strip of peel. “You know, mix it up. Maybe someone who doesn’t alphabetize their spices.”

“And you’d be happy with a broker?”

You shrugged, glancing up at him as you popped a piece of mandarin into your mouth. “Who knows.” You chewed slowly, then added with a smirk, “I can easily picture you with a nurse. Or maybe a doctor. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could do double dates, your nurse-doctor, my broker. Very grown-up of us.”

“I don’t think I’m built for double dating.”

“No,” you agreed. “You’d probably scare my broker away.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

You paused, taking the time to eat your second piece of mandarin. “Depends.”

“On?”

“How much I like the broker."

He didn’t respond right away, turning back toward the stove. “Where’s your big pot?”

“Exactly where you left it,” you replied, watching as he moved toward the lower cabinet, like he still remembered this kitchen better than his own.

And the truth was, this – whatever this was – probably wasn’t the healthiest of situations, and it wasn’t making moving on any easier for either of you.

But it was what you knew. What you remembered.

And if this was the version of him you were allowed to keep, you’d take it. You weren’t ready to go back to a life without him, not yet. Not when he still offered pieces of himself and not when you still kept saying yes.

“Do you need any help?” you asked, rising to your feet, your knees clicking in protest.  

“Always need your help,” he responded – just a little too casually. You knew he hadn’t meant for it to land as heavily as it did.

You gathered the orange peel and turned to toss it in the bin, just as Hotch stepped back from the stove. And suddenly, he was right there ��� in front of you. His eyes found yours and held them, like he was reading something you hadn’t yet decided to say. He’d always been good at that, seeing things before you did. Predicting thoughts you hadn’t even fully formed.

“Have you been sleeping?”

You nodded, brushing past him to rinse your hands. “Like a baby.”

He turned just slightly, enough to catch your expression. “That’s a no, then.”

“It’s hard to get comfortable on a bed that’s broken,” you said, equal parts explanation and blame. And while you wished it was a great sex story you were referring to…it wasn’t. You’d asked him to hang a frame above your bed. The next thing you heard from the living room was a loud thud – one of the bed legs snapping clean off.

“Hey, I fixed what I broke,” he offered.

Ha.

“Not very well,” you muttered, drying your hands. “Where do you want me?”

Hotch paused mid-motion as he added vegetables to the pot, eyes flicking up to meet yours.  

“In terms of helping,” you added, arching a brow like it was his mind that had wandered.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Right.” He nodded toward the cutting board. “You can shred the chicken.”

You did as you were told, moving to stand next to him. Your elbow brushed his now and then, neither of you bothering to move away.

“You still do this thing,” you said after a moment, not looking up. “Organising everything before you start. Like you’re in a restaurant kitchen.”

“It saves time,” he reasoned, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“It’s kind of endearing.”

“You used to call it controlling.”

You shrugged again. “I don’t recall.”

“Just like you don’t recall watering the basil?” His eyes moved to a pot on the windowsill, it’s leaves wilted, dropping sadly.

“You’re welcome to take it home with you.”

He raised a brow. “And let it die under my care instead?”

“Seems fair. Full-circle moment.”

Your elbow brushed his again and the two of you fell silent.

“...You okay?”

You didn’t look at him. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” he pressed, gentler now.  

You nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. I mean… not great, but – functioning.”

“Is there anything that I can do?”

You glanced up, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Just make sure the soup’s good.”

“It will be,” he assured you. “I know how you like it.”

And he did – because he still remembered all of it. Everything you liked, everything you didn’t. What you tolerated with a tight-lipped smile and what you outright hated. He hadn’t forgotten a thing.

And as you stood there, watching him move through your kitchen like he still belonged in your home, in your heart, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more times the two of you would let yourselves end up in moments like this.

tags - @fandomscombine @dohmeti @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue

(please lmk if you want to be removed from the general tag list & just be kept on the fake finance tag list)

dividers by cafekitsune

[ashwhowrites]

eddie munson x cheerleader/popular reader, where the reader keeps asking eddie out on a date but he keeps rejecting them because why would a popular person want to be with him. Anyways, maybe something happened that made him realize that he believes them and would like to go out with them.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Asking me out?

Y/N recently grew a crush on Eddie, the town's freak. She never saw something in him before, but all it took was one moment for it to change.

It was a Friday night and she was freezing her ass off on the field. But a big fake smile plastered on her face as she did the cheers. She let her eyes wander as the game played, and then she saw Eddie. He stood off to the side smoking a cigarette, she was surprised he wasn't asked to leave. He had one hand in his pocket and his hair was covered with a black beanie. He must have felt her stare because he looked in her direction.

She froze as she couldn't look away, his eyes kept her in a daze. His eyes warmed up her body and she felt her face burn when he winked.

That was all it took, that night she dreamed about it and woke up with the biggest crush she's ever had.

When Monday rolled around she had a skip in her step. She wanted to ask Eddie out, she knew she'd sound crazy with it coming out of nowhere but who cares.

She found him at lunch and walked over to his table. A big smile on her face as she stood in front of him. He was so cute that it made her want to giggle for years. She was shocked that the girls didn't see how attractive he was.

"Can I talk to you?"

His table went silent

Eddie looked at her confused

"Me?" he asked, pointing to himself, her eyes never left him so it was clear who she meant. But he had no idea why.

She grabbed his hand and lifted him from the chair, he looked over at his friends as she pulled him into the hallway. She dropped his hand and turned around to face him

"I'm Y/N," she said as she smiled

"I know," he said, "I mean! I'm Eddie," he stuttered

"I know," she said with a small wink. Eddie wasn't sure if his heart racing was a good or bad thing.

"I saw you at the football game on Friday, and this might sound very forward, but I think you are insanely attractive and I'd love to go out on a date with you, maybe tonight?"

Eddie felt the need to clean his ears because there was no way Y/N, the prettiest cheerleader, asked him out. He stared at her like she had multiple heads, and he had a feeling it coming out of nowhere was a trap. He would love to say "hell yes" but he was tired of being burned by people.

"I can't tonight, I have to babysit," he lied

"That's okay, how about tomorrow?" she asked

"I babysit all week and the weekend. You know, parents have kids but never want to take care of them," he nervously laughed

Y/N felt blown off and had a bad feeling he was lying. She was disappointed but she shrugged it off.

"Have fun, Eddie. Maybe another time," she spoke quietly, far less enthusiastic than before. And that made Eddie feel like shit.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, watching as her shoulders slumped as she walked back into the cafeteria.

~~~

In case he was telling the truth and had to babysit, she tried again for that "another time."

"Hey Eddie, do you want to get a bite to eat after the game?"

"I have to be home right away, I'm sorry"

And then she tried another time, and another, and another. He always seemed to be busy. But she really liked him and she wanted to try one last time.

Eddie was sitting against the school's building as he waited for Wayne to pick him up, his van decided to not start and left him stranded.

Y/N walked over, standing at his feet.

Eddie looked up as a shadow covered him. There she was, beautiful as ever. She made Eddie nervous and he didn't like to be nervous.

"What are you sitting out here for?" she asked, Eddie could feel his stomach flutter when she smiled.

"Van died so waiting for my ride," he shrugged

"I can give you a ride, and as a thank you for it maybe we could get ice cream?" she offered, more shy each time since she knew he'd say no.

"He's already on his way so you don't have to worry about me," he said as he stood up

"What about just ice cream then? I can pick you up." She kept trying and he kept shutting her down

"I'll probably be in the shop with my van, but once it's fixed I should have some free time, I'll find you."

~~~

Eddie arrived in his van a few days later, and he never talked to her. It hurt to admit, but he was never going to say yes and she had to move on.

He found her eyes and quickly looked away, when he looked again she was gone.

A few days passed and she stopped walking up to him. Sometimes they'd make eye contact, and she'd smile and then look away. Anytime she walked in his direction he held his breath, letting it free when she walked passed him.

He missed talking to her, even if it was always two sentences. He liked having her attention but he was scared of what would come after if he said yes. Would a bucket of water be dumped on him? Was it a bet? Would he find himself shoved in a closet and beaten up?

It was a risk he wasn't willing to take.

~~

Eddie was walking to his campaign when he walked passed the gym and heard his name.

He peeked inside to see Y/N and Chrissy stretching. Eddie was a simple guy so he had to take his time looking at Y/N as she sat in her uniform.

"Are you going to try again?" Chrissy asked, her hand stretched out to her feet

"No," Y/N sighed

"What? But you really like him!" Chrissy gasped

"Chris, it's clear he doesn't like me. I can count the amount of times he said no on two hands. I'm done embarrassing myself. It's a crush, I'll get over it," Y/N shrugged

"Yeah, but you haven't liked a guy in a long time! Are you sure you want to give up?"

"I know you are trying to be a good friend, but you won't change my mind. If he liked me, he would make time work in his apparently busy schedule. I'm probably not his type and that's okay." Y/N explained, mostly trying to make herself feel better.

"You're right, but his loss because I know a ton of single guys who have been asking about you!" Chrissy gushed

Eddie was leaning so far that the door opened and he fell right through. He cussed as he landed on his stomach. The fall caught the girl's attention and he blushed in embarrassment.

"Eddie? Oh my are you okay?" Y/N asked, rushing over

Chrissy was behind her, a look of worry on her face

"I'm good," he said through clenched teeth. He moved to his knees and felt soft hands helping him stand up. Once he was on his feet he wanted to run.

"Were you pushed?" Y/N asked, worried he might have been getting picked on.

Eddie couldn't tell which was less embarrassing

"Uh no, I was eavesdropping, and well karma," he said as he brushed his dirty hands against his jeans. Chrissy nodded and backed away, giving them privacy to talk.

"Oh! So you heard all of that, huh?" Y/N asked, groaning in embarrassment

"Yeah and look I'm sorry I kept rejecting you. I wasn't sure if you were serious or not and I was a little scared," Eddie said

"Scared of what? and why would I be lying?" she asked

"You're popular and I've never had a popular girl take interest in me that wasn't for some type of joke. I figured you were asking me out as a joke or to set me up for something. And I'm sorry for assuming, I didn't know you genuinely like me."

"I can understand that. I hope you know that I'd never do something cruel to anyone. I'm not like that," she explained

"And I believe you. I know I kinda had a million shots to go out with you and I fucked them all up. But can I make it up to you?" he asked, hope in his eyes as she smiled

"Are you asking me out, Eddie?" she teased

"I am," he said as he smiled, "What do you say?"

"I think I'm busy for the whole year, sorry," she said, Eddie stood shocked as she turned around and walked away.

He felt his body slump at the rejection, but he guessed he deserved it. He turned around and headed out of the gym.

He made it down the hall when he heard his name being called, he turned around.

"That's for saying no. But I'd love to go out with you," she said as she walked towards him

"I did deserve that," he laughed but walked towards her, "tonight after practice, we can grab that bite to eat?"

"I'll see you then," she said with a smile. She leaned in and pecked his cheek softly.

Eddie blushed as her lips touched his skin

He watched as she walked back to practice, head in the clouds.

Tags!

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[slutforfinnickodair]

HOUSE RULES

𓂃⋆.˚ i'm not broken, i'm just shallow.

𝒢reg house ੭୧ f! reader ┇ head (f!receiving) ⋆ age-gap ⋆ secret relationship

It was a boring Friday evening with both of your parents sitting with you by your dining table. Your mom, Dr. Samantha Wilson made your favourite dish, yet the only thing you could think about right now was what was waiting for you later on.

If you managed to lie your way through out of the house, of course.

“So how was your day?” Your dad, Dr. James Wilson, oncologist at Princeton-Plainsboro asked with curiosity laced in his tone.

You swallowed your food before opening your mouth to speak, debating on your answer.

“Great, except for the fact that I got traumatised by Dr. White. He made me write a whole essay on how estrogen would work in a male body. And I have to present it, in front of the whole hospital next week.”

“That’s amazing.” Your mom spoke while you gave her a look.

“No, Mom, it’s not. Didn’t you hear the part where I said I have to present it to the whole hospital? And I only have a week.”

“Well, better get to it then. As I heard Dr. White is very cold-hearted. He won't expect any less than perfect from you.”

“Thanks.” You murmured. “I’m not even qualified to become a diagnostician any time soon. I don’t get why I have to study biochemistry when I signed up for a course in psychology.”

“Well why wouldn't you want to be a diagnostician?” Samantha asked.

Wilson pressed his lips together to keep him from smiling, but the subtle twitch of his cheeks and the way his eyes glinted, you could see that your dad had a really hard time keeping his laughter in.

“You want me to work at Plainsboro, right?” You asked.

“Well obviously. Why would you work in a different hospital when your Dad already works in one?” She raised a brow while you dropped your shoulders.

“Well, I don’t think they would need another diagnostician anytime soon. Unless House decides he’d want to die of Hydrocodone-Paracetamol overdose, I’m sure Plainsboro won't need another doctor playing “Who’s the killer?”

Sam smiled before taking another bite out of her food.

“Um…I was thinking since it’s Friday and I practically got an excellent on all of my assignments…maybe I could spend the weekend at Cathy’s place?”

“Catherine just moved out from her parents place, no?” Sam asked while you nodded.

“I thought I could go over, and spend a girly night with her, you know. She needs me. Just as much as I needed her when I was going through recovery.”

“Oh let her go, they don’t even meet anymore that often.” Wilson leaned back in his chair while your mother was still sitting in front of you with raised brows, chewing softly on her food.

Shit.

Did she find Greg’s shirt in my laundry?

“Okay.” Samantha spoke, chugging down her water. “But your father will drive you.” She continued. “Public transportation has been nasty these days. And I don’t want you to get lost in New Jersey. Potential place for serial killers.”

Yeah that’s exactly why she decided to settle down and marry a man from here.

“Actually I can't.” Your dad responded. “Car’s been breaking down since I drove home from the hospital. I’m sorry, Sweetheart. You either go by bus or metro.”

A big rock fell down from your heart. You couldn't even put it into words how grateful you were that the damned Volvo finally broke down. You always had to go from Cathy’s place and take the metro to Baker Street.

“It’s alright, Dad. Don’t worry. Thanks though. Dinner was nice, Mom. I’m going to pack my stuff.”

The walk from the station to Greg’s place wasn’t that far away. The weather was humid, but still warm due to it being only early October.

The fact was that since you got treated for your kidney stones and have been under the care of your dad’s so-called best friend, things have maybe changed a little bit.

Okay.

They changed a whole lot.

In the past few weeks, you tried to seem normal about the fact that every weekend since the first day of your first semester you’ve been spending your time at House’s place.

Anyway, your relationship wasn't much of a Girlfriend and Boyfriend type of bonding. Some would assume that maybe what you two were doing was just the result of some kind of sexual tension that lived in the both of you.

But the thing is with the Forbidden Fruit that the more it’s forbidden, the more you want it.

And that was exactly your case with Greg House.

Except for the fact that it wasn't all that sweet and dovey and lovely as others around your age expected a relationship would feel like.

Sure there were moments where both of you felt vulnerable around each other. You more because well let’s be honest, Greg’s not a man of feelings.

You turned a corner up to Baker Street, looking out for the number 221 as you walked straight by the apartments. Your sneakers creaked slightly on the leaves that fell down on the pavement.

Even though you knew exactly which apartment was he living in and how far was it from the beginning of the street you tried to brace yourself. Your breath hitched whenever you thought about what happened the last time you were at his apartment.

That poor piano…

The door clicked softly behind you as you stepped into the familiar apartment at 221 Baker Street, Apartment B.

It was dim inside, the only real light coming from the flickering TV screen playing some late-night crime documentary, the volume turned down low — almost just a whisper in the background. The place smelled faintly of old books, leather, and a hint of something sharper — antiseptic, maybe. Or him.

Gregory House was exactly where you expected him to be: sprawled out carelessly on the battered brown leather couch, one long leg thrown over the armrest, a thick medical file balanced precariously on his stomach. His reading glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, half-sliding down, but he didn’t bother to fix them. His cane was tossed carelessly on the coffee table, along with a half-eaten container of Chinese food and an open bottle of Vicodin — standard décor for him.

He didn’t look up when you entered. Just turned a page with a lazy flick of his fingers, his voice dry and sharp as ever.

“About time. I was starting to think you got kidnapped by one of those serial killers your mom’s so worried about.”

He finally glanced up at you over the rim of his glasses, the smallest smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “Which would’ve been a shame. Finding another emotionally unstable young woman to warm my bed sounds like a lot of paperwork.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your bag onto the armchair by the door.

“I had to dodge my mom’s twenty questions. Thought she found your shirt in my laundry.”

House barked out a short, sarcastic laugh, returning his attention to the file.

“Well, if she’s smart enough to connect the dots, maybe she deserves the horror of knowing who’s been defiling her little girl.”

You kicked off your sneakers and padded over the worn wooden floors toward him, your fingers brushing your pocket — the small silver key he’d given you a few days ago burning against your fingertips. Your own key. To his place.

He didn’t say anything about it. Didn’t have to. It meant something, even if he’d pretend otherwise.

You stood in front of him for a moment, arms crossed, watching the way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the folder. The way his body moved, even in stillness — relaxed, confident, like he had the entire world already figured out and it bored him.

The silence stretched between you, taut and electric, until finally you shifted onto the couch beside him.

“You gonna keep pretending I’m not here?” you murmured.

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Depends. Are you going to do something interesting, or just sit there looking needy?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but a smile tugged at your lips. He wanted you to make the first move — smug bastard.

You leaned closer, slow, deliberate, until your knees brushed his thigh. He tilted his head slightly to glance at you, his expression unreadable, except for that slight, infuriating smirk.

Without giving him a warning, you climbed into his lap, straddling him, feeling the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs where your skirt rode up.

He grunted — not from surprise, but more like mild amusement — letting the file drop carelessly to the floor with a soft thud. His hands immediately settled on your hips like it was second nature, fingers flexing slightly.

“God, you’re needy,” he muttered under his breath, voice rough, low.

You kissed him before he could throw another jab at you — pressed your mouth against his hard, demanding. He kissed you back instantly, no hesitation, no tenderness. House didn’t do soft. He kissed like he argued: messy, fierce, and like he needed to win.

You felt him shift under you, like he was about to stand up with you in his arms.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth, breathless,

“Don’t. You’re not—”

“I’m not what?” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow, voice thick with mockery. “Strong enough? Gonna break my leg in half?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could, he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly — and then stood up anyway, effortlessly lifting you into his arms.

You gasped, clutching his shoulders.

“You’re a stubborn ass!” you hissed.

“You’re welcome,” he shot back smugly, carrying you through the short hallway to his bedroom like it was no big deal, no strain in his gait, only the faintest limp — still cocky as ever.

You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until he tossed you gently onto the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly under you.

He followed immediately, kneeling above you. His eyes pinned you to the bed, sharp, gleaming, and darker now, like a predator ready to devour.

“Clothes. Off. Now.” His voice was rough, commanding, but still dripping with sarcasm. “Or do you need a PowerPoint presentation on how sex works?”

You glared at him, cheeks burning, but the way he was looking at you — with that pure, hungry intensity — made your fingers fumble at your blouse anyway.

He helped, of course. With House, “helping” meant him undoing your buttons at an agonizingly slow pace, his knuckles brushing your skin with every movement, smirking when you shivered under his touch.

The blouse slipped off your shoulders, and he made a low sound in his throat when he saw the white lace of your bra.

“Well, that’s unfair. Bringing weapons to a knife fight,” he muttered, hands reaching behind you with shocking dexterity to snap your bra open in one move.

House stared for a beat longer than he probably meant to, then leaned down, his mouth closing hotly over your breast, worshiping you in a way his words never would.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, moaning softly as he trailed kisses lower, down your stomach, teasing the waistband of your skirt.

In no time, he was pulling down your tights and skirt in one smooth, careless tug, tossing them somewhere onto the floor.

His fingers slid under your thighs, prying them apart, his breath warm against your inner thighs as he kissed along the soft skin, slow and deliberate. You felt his stubble scraping lightly, sensitizing every nerve ending.

Then you felt his fingers stroke the fabric of your panties — slow at first, just barely there, featherlight — before he tugged it aside roughly. The cool air hit you for a second before the warmth of his mouth replaced it.

He spat lightly against you, the wet heat of it making you whimper, your hips jerking upward without thinking.

“Relax, drama queen,” he murmured against you, before licking a slow, firm stripe up your center, making you cry out his name, high and needy.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, humming low in satisfaction at the way you squirmed under him.

His fingers slipped inside you, slow, deep, while he talked you through it, voice low and rough against your skin.

“That’s it. Good girl. Just like that. God, you’re so easy — fall apart the second I touch you…”

Your thighs were trembling, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, until your orgasm hit you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping, crying out his name.

He didn’t stop right away — kept working you through it, letting you ride the waves until you collapsed back against the mattress, boneless.

He finally pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking wickedly as he crawled up over you again.

He leaned in close, so close you could feel his breath against your ear as he whispered, voice full of that cocky arrogance that somehow made your heart race faster:

“That was just the warm-up. Hope you’re not planning on walking tomorrow.”

[allurearia]

The Glow We Share.

The wild party nights have shifted into cozy movie nights for the Slytherins. You and Theodore settle under a warm blanket, sharing a glow.

Ever since 8th year began at Hogwarts, Friday nights for the Slytherins had taken a completely different turn. The once wild parties that stretched until the sun came up were replaced with more relaxing movie nights. Of Course they still loved those beloved parties of theirs, nothing could replace the feeling of getting absolutely wasted after another match, kicking gryffindors arse. But the Friday movie nights were a tradition blaise and pansy had insisted heavily on wanting to experience something new with the group that didn't end in them getting heavily intoxicated.

The once heavily coated with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol slytherin common room had become a safe haven for the group of snakes now adorned with soft pillows, heavy blankets and littered with scented candles, the fireplace casting a soft glow over the room.

“Honestly you lot are obsessed with this horror shit why can't we pick something lighter?” 

Enzo complained holding up and inspecting some rom com CD’S.

Mattheo sits up straight after being sprawled up on the floor for the past 20 mins watching everyone argue over this week's genre. he stretched out his arm, pointing lazily toward you and Theodore, who were seated comfortably next to each other.

"Come on, Berkshire," Mattheo drawled, "we already have a live rom-com happening right here." His gaze flicked knowingly between the two of you , his smirk widening. "Why settle for a film when you've got front-row seats?"

You nudge Mattheo with your foot  “You’re an idiot,” she muttered Theodore, unbothered as ever, just raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"Not sure I’d call it romantic, Mattheo," Theo quipped, eyes still fixed on the horror movie cover in his hand. "But if you insist, I can start dramatically professing my love right here if it’ll entertain you."

Pansy let out a loud laugh from across the room. "Please do! We could use the entertainment while we wait for this nightmare of a movie to start."

Enzo rolled his eyes, waving the rom-com CD at Mattheo. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But just wait until “the notebook” starts and you all get sappy.” he argues putting his hands up making air quotes.

“I’ll be asleep before the opening credits,” Blaise remarked dryly, earning a chuckle from Draco, who was still flipping through his book, pretending to not care about the arguments circling him.

“Alright, enough of this,” Theo said, standing up to finally load the horror movie into the projector. “You’ll get your rom-com, Enzo, but you’re sitting through this first.”

The lights proceeded to dim and you could hear the opening scene start to play but you had found it hard to keep your eyes open the long week filled with  due assignments and  practice has wore you out the comfortable bedding on the sofa wasn't helping your case Your head began to droop slightly, and before you knew it, you shifted closer to Theodore, seeking his warmth. 

He didn’t seem to mind. Without taking his eyes off the screen, Theo casually wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you settled against him. The steady rhythm of his breathing was calming, and you felt yourself relax into his side, your head resting comfortably on his chest. The scent of his cologne and the soft fabric of his sweater made you feel more comfortable than ever

The occasional jump scares or bursts of laughter from the others barely registered as you snuggled deeper into Theo, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. You felt his hand gently brush through your hair and the other under your sweater as he drew unrecognizable shapes on your skin, the movement soothing. 

"You tired already?" Theo's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, so the others wouldn't hear. His lips curved into a faint smile as he glanced down at you, noticing how you were slowly nodding off.

"Mm, just a little," you mumbled sleepily, nuzzling into his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that made it even harder to stay awake. 

"Go ahead and sleep, love," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement as he shifted slightly to make you more comfortable. "I’ll protect you from all the jump scares."

You chuckled weakly, your eyes already closed as you gave in to the drowsiness. “You better, my knight in shining armor ” you whispered back, the teasing tone in your voice fading as sleep overtook you.

Theo kept his arm wrapped around you, his thumb absentmindedly tracing shapes on your waist as he continued watching the movie. Every now and then, he'd glance down at you, a soft, almost protective look in his eyes

Across the room, Mattheo, who had been watching the whole exchange, nudged Draco and smirked. “Told you. Real-life rom-com right here.” 

Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

As the end credits started to roll, Blaise stretched lazily and groaned. “That was a complete waste of time. Barely any scary scenes, and the ones that were there? Predictable.”

Mattheo, lounging on the floor with his arms crossed, nodded in agreement. “Seriously, Theo, you call that horror? I’ve seen scarier things at breakfast. Next time, I’m picking the movie.”

“You say that every time,” Draco muttered, closing his book with a soft thud. “But it never changes.”

Pansy, who had been rummaging through a bowl of snacks, turned to throw in her opinion when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She froze, blinking a few times before a slow grin spread across her face.

“Well, would you look at that,” she whispered, nudging Enzo next to her and pointing discreetly in your direction. 

Everyone’s eyes followed her gesture to where you and Theodore were now curled up together on the couch, fast asleep. Your head was still nestled against Theo’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively around you. His head had tilted slightly, resting on top of yours as the soft glow of the fire cast a warm, peaceful light over both of you.

“Aww, would you look at the lovebirds,” Pansy teased, barely containing her laughter. “And they missed the whole movie.”

Enzo grinned, shaking his head. “Can’t really blame them. That movie was awful, but apparently, they found something better to do.” He winked at Mattheo, who smirked in response.

Mattheo leaned over toward Blaise, muttering loud enough for the whole group to hear, “See? Told you we didn’t need a rom-com tonight. We had a live show right in front of us.”

Blaise chuckled under his breath, standing up to stretch. “Yeah, but I’m still picking next week’s movie. And I swear, no more of this psychological thriller nonsense. Give me a proper horror film.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “At this point, just let them sleep. They look too cute to disturb anyway.

With everyone quietly cleaning up the mess from the last two hours, the room was filled with the gentle rustling of blankets being folded and the clinking of empty butterbeer bottles being gathered. Pansy carefully picked up the numerous chocolate wrappers that had been scattered across the floor while Blaise stretched, already making plans to head to bed.

“Alright, I’m out,” Enzo yawned, heading toward the door. “See you lot in the morning.”

“Yeah, I’m done too,” Pansy added, standing up and grabbing her pillow. “Goodnight, everyone.”

“Night,” Draco called, making his way up the stairs, followed by Blaise. Soon, the common room grew quieter as each of them disappeared to their dorms, leaving behind only a dimly lit space and the crackling of the fire.

Except for Mattheo.

He lingered, casually fluffing the pillows on the couch and folding the blankets with exaggerated care. No one questioned why he stayed behind, but the others left him to his task, too tired to notice his subtle glances toward you and Theodore.

Once the common room was finally empty, Mattheo glanced around to make sure everyone was gone. With a quiet sigh, he leaned down and carefully grabbed one of the thicker blankets from the pile they had used earlier. Glancing at the two of you, still sound asleep and curled up against each other, he smirked softly, shaking his head.

“Hopeless,” he muttered under his breath, but there was a fondness in his tone.

Mattheo gently draped the blanket over you and Theodore, making sure it was tucked around both of you just right, ensuring you were warm and comfortable. He stepped back, taking a moment to admire his work and then let out a quiet chuckle.

“You owe me for this one, Nott,” he whispered, barely audible, as if talking to his sleeping friend. Then, with one last glance, Mattheo turned and made his way toward the boys' dormitory, leaving the two of you nestled together beneath the blanket, completely undisturbed in your peaceful slumber.

Anything to be the best man at the wedding. He guesses.

Divider credit goes to the lovely @kodaswrld <3

[bippot]

Swiping Right

Story Summary -> Penelope Garcia's parties are the number 1 spot for gossip, and Spencer Reid and the newbie seem to be the hot topic during this one, thanks to an impulsive dating app swipe.

Tags -> Friends to Lovers, Online Dating, First Kiss, Reader is a Member of the BAU (Criminal Minds), Spencer Reid Fluff

Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!

Penelope frequently hosted team gatherings at her apartment whenever she felt that the BAU needed a Friday night of booze and homemade treats after weeks of hard work. It was a lovely little reprieve, and even if the team didn’t have too much time or energy or care for going out on the town these days, they always managed to leave Penelope's with a new bit of gossip or insight about another member of the team.

This time, the new revelation was a quiet one. An obvious one. And a dynamic altering one.

Y/N had been a member of the BAU for a few months. She'd moved to DC for the job, got a new apartment, and began to settle into her new life. So, with a foundation established, she put herself out there on Hinge. Why not? She was finally on firm footing. The workload was heavy, so a little stress relief on the side wasn't the most unappealing thing in the world.

The thing about Hinge is that... there's a lot of mingers. Yes, everyone is attractive to someone, and judging people based on their appearances is shallow, but the algorithm of dating apps is for surface-level attraction. You can't know if you're compatible with someone until you've witnessed the essence of their being in motion, and messaging back and forth over the Internet is far from motion.

Thanks to the abysmal choice of potential partners she was presented with, Y/N made a habit of checking the app whenever she had a brief moment of downtime in the hopes of coming across a diamond in the rough. So, she found herself sitting on the arm of Penelope's couch, filling the toilet break that Emily had interrupted their conversation with – any more than 3 glasses of red wine, and Prentiss' bladder likes to make itself known every 15 minutes – with a harmless session of swiping left.

No. No. Neckbeard, definitely not. No. No... wait, maybe.... his 2nd picture is with an anime body pillow of a tween with huge tits, 100% no. No. No. Spencer Reid. SPENCER REID. Shit. 

Spencer fucking Reid has a dating profile?

Without thinking, 'hey, I work with that guy, and it could possibly be weird to swipe right on him – which would only be totally okay if he hadn't also swiped right because he'd never know – and we'd have to continue working together while being fully aware that there was attraction between us,' her finger moved before her brain had even registered that fact.

Shit... And the worst part was they matched.

Previously – at an indiscriminate amount of time before this very minute – Spencer had come across Y/N's profile and made his choice. He hadn't mentioned ever being on dating apps. He didn't seem to be the type to date at all, let alone be on Hinge. Who knew he had a smartphone? When did that upgrade happen?

Was he on Tinder too? That definitely wasn't his scene.

Then, the dreaded notification came through. The world suddenly went into bullet time. Everything happened beat by beat, one by one.

1) Spencer, who'd been leaning against the bookshelf on the other side of the room and was in the process of analysing Penny's collection (and was skipping over any of her booktok selections with pretty pink cheeks), felt the buzzing. 

2) He reached into his pocket.

3) Took his phone into his palm.

4) Saw the notification that he'd matched with a Y/N, and surely it couldn't be the Y/N he knew.

5) Unlocked it and saw.

6) His eyes widened, and he frantically began to look around the room until finally...

7) They found each other's stare.

It was too awkward. They were both like deer in headlights, so Y/N broke the eye contact and scurried to the kitchen in order to hide while Spencer stood rooted to the spot in confusion. 

What the hell just happened?

He stared at his screen. It couldn't be true, he thought. To test whether this was a glitch, he kept opening and closing the app, but as clear as day, there was a cute picture of Y/N with her cat perched on her shoulder, and, yeah, the app was urging him to message her.

Should he? It wouldn't be the most professional thing to do. Did he?

Spencer: ...Hi

He watched as an ellipsis appeared, disappeared, appeared again, and disappeared again, then:

Y/N: hi spence 

A huff of amusement escaped Spencer's mouth, and he smiled to himself involuntarily. 

Spencer: Are there any of Penny's cookies left in the kitchen?

Y/N: there are 2 left

Spencer: Steal them for me and come sit out on the fire escape?

Y/N: steal them?

Y/N: who are you? and what have you done with spencer reid??

Spencer: Why don't you come and find out?

In the kitchen, a flustered sound that was a mix of a giggle and snort emitted itself from Y/N's throat at his roguish message. Luckily, JJ and Rossi were in an in-depth conversation about their vacations to Italy, so they either didn't hear or chose not to pay attention to the noise.

Because why had meek, mild-mannered Spencer said something so bold and flirty? He'd always been cute – his physical appearance was by-the-book handsome – but this comment had Y/N wondering, was Spencer Reid hot? Like, seriously hot and sexy and swoon-worthy?

Armed with the tupperware of remaining cookies, Y/N snuck out to Penelope's fire escape. Penny being Penny, she had decorated the area that technically she wasn't supposed to decorate and had created a comfy little reading nook on the metal stairs that was covered in blankets and a few small pillows.

"This is a safety hazard," Spencer said, leaning against the stairs. "The plants Pen has put here look nice, but they're obstructing the exit."

"No need to be a buzzkill, Reid," she joked as she handed the Tupperware over. "They’re pretty."

He bit into the treat and got a twinkle in his eye that she'd never seen before. Y/N took a bite of her cookie and waited for whatever comment he was brewing, watching as he gently poked her in the side with his elbow.

"Hmm, everything out here is pretty."

"Spencer Reid, are you flirting with me?" Y/N asked with a smirk as she settled in next to him. She tried to keep her face blank, not wanting to give away anything, but somehow she couldn’t contain her excitement.

"I'm just stating facts," he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I am, however, trying to convince myself that I'll be able to act normal around you when we go back to work on Monday."

Looking up at him with the most beautiful doe eyes he'd ever seen, she had no idea what to say. Y/N's cheek felt like molten lava under the gaze he was giving her, making her feel all fuzzy inside. So what if she liked being around him and he was kind and considerate and weird and silly and handsome and literally the smartest person ever? It's not as if she could feel herself literally falling in love with him as he gazed down at her, his hand resting on the pole just by the side of her head.

And since her voice wasn't letting her say anything, she brought her phone out.

Y/N: let's not go back to normal

Y/N: you should ask me out on a date

He read the message and took a deep breath. It was great that he'd dreamed about this very moment because he knew exactly what to say.

"The National Air and Space Museum has a star show every evening, and I know you like astronomy." Spencer smiled at his feet briefly but soon returned his eyeline to her face. "And there's this great Indian restaurant called Rasika close by that has the best Sweet Potato Samosas I've ever tasted. Reservations go fast... but I know the owner -"

"Okay, humble brag," she playfully mumbled under her breath just loud enough for him to hear and chuckle at.

His finger tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pretending that this was a casual occurrence and he wasn't totally out of his depth, and continued, "It's short notice, but, uh, would you like to go with me tomorrow afternoon?"

The smile he received in return was blinding, like the sun peeking through the clouds, and it took everything in him not to melt into a puddle of mush on the platform below.

"Yeah," she said softly, "I'd really like that."

"Good," Spencer breathed, a broad grin spreading across his face, "Because I'd really like that too."

Together, the pair sat thigh to thigh on the cold stairs of the staircase, the evening air blowing around them as the stars began to make an appearance. They continued munching on their cookies while talking about nothing but everything at the same time. 

It was a little awkward at first. He'd literally just asked her out, so, yeah, there was a full minute or 2 where they were silently coming to terms with that fact, yet the tension eventually eased, and the words started to flow.

From inside, Penelope Garcia was freaking out. She called the other members of the BAU to her and pointed to the lovebirds just outside her window. The team weren't surprised to see them together – after having to endure the pair tiptoeing around their crushes on each other for months now, it was obvious to everyone but Y/N and Spencer – yet it did raise a few eyebrows when Reid shifted his arm to rest behind Y/N's shoulders and scooched even closer to her.

He'd come a long way over the years. To think, when he began working at the BAU, Spencer could barely look an attractive woman in the eye without turning crimson or touch a doorknob without sanitising his hands 3 times. Now, he was lounging on a rusty stairwell and reciprocating heart eyes with his coworker.

Say what you want about his stint in prison, but it had mellowed him out a bit. It's hard to feel anxiety about tetanus when you've stabbed yourself in the leg with a sharpened-down toothbrush.

Nobody disturbed the pair. Garcia would've caused a stink if they had, though she was peering out of the window at regular intervals to keep up to date on what was going on out there. They just kept talking and talking and talking, enjoying each other's company until it got too late.

"I don't want to interrupt them cause they're so cute, but I need to sleep," Penny whined, grasping at Luke's arm and giving him a pout in the hopes he'd do it for her.

Luke rolled his eyes and sighed, thinking it would be a lie to say that Penelope's sweet little pout hadn't made him weak. "Fine," he groaned, "I'll ruin their moment so you don't have to."

"You're the best," she squealed happily, pushing him towards the window. "Go get 'em."

Luke grudgingly approached the lovers, his awkwardness showing as he cleared his throat a couple of times before finally announcing his presence.

"Hey, guys."

Spencer turned around quickly, as if shocked at Luke's appearance, and immediately became rigid. Y/N, on the other hand, gave him a warm smile.

"Hi, Luke."

"Uh, sorry to disturb – " Luke noticed how the pair got all sheepish, like a couple of teenagers who'd been caught flirting by one of their fathers. "Penny's got a yoga class early tomorrow, so everyone has got to, y'know... skedaddle."

He said the last word so clumsily and lamely that Y/N had to hold back a giggle. She hazarded a glance at Spencer, and, boom, she found him biting his lip to stifle his chuckles too, and as soon as they locked eyes with each other, both of them couldn't hold it back anymore.

"Come on, Spence, clearly Luke and Pen have some alone activities that they want to get on with," she cooed as she grabbed Spencer's arm and pulled him inside.

"That's not – " Luke started protesting, but then he thought about that prospect, and, yeah, that wasn't entirely wrong. His words died in his mouth.

Once they'd picked up their coats and bags, the pair were walking home side by side, still smiling like fools to themselves and feeling giddy inside. Their hands kept bumping into each other, and neither of them were sure if they were the cause of the possible hand-holding or if they were the ones supposed to be taking the bait. The tension was crackling like a live wire underneath their skins.

As they reached her front door and said goodbye for the night, Y/N fished her keys out of her bag, but before she got them into the door, she stopped. 

"Spencer," she called out.

"Hmm?" He turned back around, a questioning look plastered across his face.

Y/N looked around awkwardly for a second, her lips parted slightly as she struggled to find the right words. "I – uh," she stuttered, then shook her head and decided just to go for it.

What little distance Spencer had walked from her door melted away, and she smushed her lips against his, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. For a brief moment, he totally froze up, but it was only for a split second. He responded with equal fervour, leaning into her embrace and cupping her cheeks tenderly.

Without breaking apart, Spencer backed Y/N to her door, and, after a little bit of clumsy blind patting for the handle, he jiggled it open before pushing them inside. This wasn't what either of them had expected they'd do tonight, but here they were, finally acting upon the feelings that had been building up inside them for quite some time now.

And, if they were lucky and their date tomorrow went well, a lot of BAU outings would end exactly like this one.

*Click here for my masterlist*

Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!

Taglist: @pnkmn, @adriansboyfriend, @s0ra-s0ra, @sleepysongbirdsings @libraprincessfairy

[takemetomyfragiledreams]

I'm never in the mood/never remember to do writing challenges on the days you're supposed to so you know what I'm making shit up and declaring this Feelings Friday

I've been working on a batfam robin!pile farm au that is nowhere near ready to be posted but that has consumed my life up until now and I've been dying to share so here's a snippet of feelings:

For the first couple of weeks, Jason is the one making all the decisions. Tim is quiet when he isn't passed out in the back seat, still recovering from the surgery that had saved his life. He was incredibly lucky to have gone down near one of the few remaining clinics and even luckier to have been near a surgeon at the time. Still, Jason wants to get him checked out and he can't do that without new identities.

As far as the rest of the world is concerned, they're both dead. Keeping Tim from being dragged back into any of the mess they've left behind means that he needs to ditch the Drake and Wayne name. Their ID's end up reading Timothy Jackson and Jason Peter.

They stop into an emergency clinic a couple states away, where the news is still playing footage from Gotham. Tim doesn't so much as look at the TV, but Jason finds his eyes moving to the screen, over and over again. It's like seeing an accident in real time. No matter how hard he tries, he can't look away.

"Nasty stuff," another patient remarks from his side, "but good riddance to all those criminal freaks. Should've put them down a long time ago."

"There were good people there too," Jason says roughly, instead of punching him in the throat.

"Then why didn't they evacuate?"

Tim's name is called, before Jason can beat the logistics of evacuating an entire fucking city in less than a day into the man's useless skull. He stands stiffly to guide Tim to the nurse waiting for them.

The nurse doesn't like the way Tim is silent. She sends Jason out into the hall while she tries to get Tim to admit that Jason is abusing him.

Jason spends the next ten minutes alternating between slow breathing and squeezing his hands so hard they turn white. He tries not to think about his mother, bruised and battered. He tries not to let it get to him that someone could think he would brutalize someone like that; someone who doesn't know he's spent years putting abusers in the ground.

When she calls Jason back in, she looks distinctly frustrated.

Tim stares straight ahead.

"The doctor will see you soon," she says on her way out. "Please let me know if there's anything you need."

Jason sits down in the too small chair beside the examination table. Tim reaches out to take his hand and holds on all throughout the long minutes of waiting, the doctor's examination and the nurse re-bandaging his head and eye.

When they're done, Jason goes to the pharmacy to pick up Tim's prescriptions and hits the highway all over again.

Tagging: @wickedsmille @twopercentboy @vellaphoria @green4allseasons @deepintotheabyss @crownofstardustandbone @tictac-ghost @ragnarokhound @melodyatlas

feel free to do this even if I haven't tagged you. u can even @ me if you want an excuse pft

[allthingsfangirl101]

Enemies to Lovers – Joe Keery

I have lived next to Joe Keery for two years and those two years have been hell. He has parties every weekend, trashes the hallway, blasts music, slams doors, smokes, makes passive-aggressive comments when I run into him, and is just a horrible neighbor.

"Up early and out early. Like always, Ms. Y/L/N," Joe said as soon as I left my apartment. I looked up and saw him unlocking his door.

"Up late and home late. Like always, Mr. Keery," I sighed as I locked the door. I turned around, my heart sinking into my stomach when I saw the bruise on his cheek and the bandage wrapped around his wrist.

"Are you alright?" I asked. My question made him freeze. He glanced at me before down at his wrist.

"Oh," he said slowly. He looked up at me and smiled softly, "I'm fine. Just a stupid accident on set that I made worse."

"How'd you make it worse?"

"I got drunk," he laughed. I smiled but quickly stopped.

"You should get some sleep," I said, clearing my throat.

"And you should get to work," he said, matching my tone.

I walked toward the elevator as Joe walked into his apartment. As I headed to work, I went back over my and Joe's strange interaction that morning.

I went through my day, forcing myself to forget about my neighbor. After a long shift, I happily left for the day. I got home, my entire body aching. As I unlocked the door, Joe left his apartment.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," he teased. I nodded but didn't say anything. "You okay?" He asked as I opened my door.

"Just tired," I shrugged.

"From shopping all day?" He smirked. I glared at him before walking into my apartment and slamming the door behind me.

Well, never mind. It looks like that moment of weakness Joe had this morning was just that. A moment.

* * * * *

I went about my normal week and it wasn't until the weekend that I noticed I hadn't seen Joe since the other day. I walked into my apartment Friday night with a fresh bottle of wine and some takeout.

The takeout was finished and I was working on the bottle of wine when there was a crash outside.

"Actor Boy is home," I mumbled. I sighed when there was another cash. "And drunk."

I started to stand up but giggled when I drunkenly fell back onto the couch.

"I guess I am too," I laughed. I jumped when there was a loud knock on my door. I sighed and slowly stood up. Once I had my bearings, I walked to the front door. I reached for the handle but froze when I heard his voice.

"Y/N! Open the damn door!"

I took a step back, my hands instantly starting to shake. Everything froze as he continued to pound on my door. I held my breath, silently praying for him to leave.

"Hey!"

My heart jumped into my throat when I heard Joe. I looked at my watch and mumbled under my breath, "What are you doing home? Please go back to work."

"Go away," my ex-boyfriend Scott laughed.

"Please go, Joe," I whispered. "I'm begging you."

"No," Joe said flatly. "What are you doing here? And why are you knocking on that door like an ass?"

"This doesn't concern you," Scott spat at him.

"Yeah, it does," Joe responded, his anger slowly rising.

"Oh, really?" Scott laughed. "Are you dating my leftovers?"

"You're the dumbass who lost a five-star meal."

I didn't know if I should be flattered or offended. Joe was standing up for me, but it kind of felt like an insult.

"I threw it out when it lost its flavor," Scott said through bared teeth.

That was definitely an insult.

"Wait, what?" Joe asked with the sole purpose of pissing Scott off. "I'm sorry, man. You kinda lost me. Are you saying you dumped Y/N?"

My heart flipped when Joe started laughing. "Yes," Scott seethed. "I dumped her."

"You see," Joe sighed, "I just can't believe that. I don't believe that you would dump a girl as gorgeous as Y/N. She would definitely dump you when she realized you were a piece of drunk shit that probably never got her to finish. . ."

I swung the door open, knowing that what Joe was saying was only going to end one way. And I was right. Scott had his fist clenched and his arm raised, but he stopped himself when he heard my door open.

"There it is," he said, breathing heavily as he turned around. I glanced behind him at Joe. He took a step closer, carefully watching me.

"What do you want, Scott?"

"I wanted to allow you to beg for me back," he slurred. Joe was watching us closely with his fists clenched.

"I don't want you back."

I gasped and took a step back when Scott's drunk glare darkened. "You don't want me back," he seethed. "Wow. You ungrateful little. . ."

He raised his hand again but he didn't stop himself. My eyes widened when I realized it was Joe who stopped Scott by grabbing his elbow.

"I know you weren't about to hit a woman," he threatened. "You sure as hell weren't going to hit that woman."

"I told you, Hollywood, this doesn't concern you." Scott tore his elbow out of Joe's hand and took a step closer to me. Joe didn't let him get any closer. My heart jumped into my throat when Joe instantly put himself between me and Scott.

"It concerns me when you're threatening a woman," Joe said, the tone of his voice changing again. "It definitely concerns me when the woman you're threatening is my neighbor."

"Neighbor," Scott laughed. "I'm sure Hollywood's Party Boy just loooves living next to Nerdy Stay-at-Home Bookworm. I bet she complains about your partying. How many?"

"How many what?" Joe asked through clenched teeth.

"How many times has she called the cops on you, Keery?" Scott smirked. "How many times has she demanded you turn down the music or stop leaving empty kegs in the hallway or having sex in the elevator?"

"The only woman I've hooked up with in the elevator is Y/N," Joe said making my stomach flip.

We have never done anything close to hooking up in the elevator or anywhere else in the building. He clearly said that for one reason and one reason only; to get under Scott's skin. And it worked.

"Y/N hates hooking up anywhere other than the bedroom," Scott said, his voice dropping.

"Maybe all she needed was the right guy to take her in the elevator," Joe smirked.

I gasped when Scott's glare darkened. I took a step closer to Joe, gently putting my hands on his shoulder blades. "Joe," I whispered, "Please don't push him."

"Alright," Joe sighed. "You're making my girl nervous so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

I was too scared of Scott's murderous glare to react to Joe calling me his girl.

"Leave?" Scott laughed. "I'm not going anywhere until I talk to her."

"Well, that's a problem."

"And why is that, Lover-boy?" Scott asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because I'm not letting you talk to her."

For once, Joe's tone made me nervous. I looked around and saw the glare on his face. As he stared down my ex, he reached behind himself and grabbed my hand.

"I'm only going to tell you one more time," he threatened. "Leave our place or I swear, you'll never be able to use that hand to pleasure yourself again."

"Our place?"

I caught on to that too.

"You two live together?!"

I knew it was going to happen before Scott even made a move. I guess Joe knew that too because he instantly reacted. He pushed me further behind him and hit Scott's jaw before he could do anything.

I stood there, frozen against my front door, as Scott fell to the floor.

"Guess I'm going to have to give you one last warning," Joe said, his voice dark. "Leave Y/N alone or you'll only be known as the loser ex who got his ass kicked by her current boyfriend."

Without looking at me, Joe grabbed my hand and pulled us into my apartment. He let go of my hand and instantly ran his fingers through his hair. I watched as he angrily paced back and forth across my living room.

"Thank you," I whispered with my arms wrapped tightly around myself. My voice made him look up at me.

"Of course," he said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yep," I said as I tightened my arms and focused on my feet. I held my breath when Joe's shoes came into view.

"Y/N," he said under his breath. "Look at me. Please?"

I took a shaky breath and struggled to hide my tears as I looked up at him. His eyes softened when he saw the expression on my face.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. Before I could lie and tell him I was fine, he said, "It's okay if you're not. Talk to me, Y/N."

"It's nothing," I started to say.

"Come on, Y/N," Joe sighed. "At least tell me who that guy was."

Joe's face dropped when he figured it out for himself. He took a step closer to me and lowered his voice. "I was right," he whispered. "That guy is your ex."

I bit my lip as the tears started to spill even though I tried to stop them. Joe reached up and gently caught one.

"He used to hurt you."

He didn't say that like it was a question. Then again, from everything that just happened, it wasn't that hard to figure out.

"Listen to me, Y/N," he said under his breath, "he will never hurt you again. Alright? I promise."

"You can't promise that," I sighed. He reached over and grabbed my hands, making me look at him.

"The next time you see him, even if it's across the street, you call me."

"But. . ."

"Promise me," he cut me off. "The next time you see him, you call me."

"I promise."

We stared at each other, the tension thick. For some reason, I spoke up.

"You want a beer?"

"I could go for a beer," Joe chuckled.

* * * * *

Joe and I ended up drinking and watching a movie. As the credits rolled and my mind incredibly hazy from the drinks, I looked over and my stomach did some weird flip. I gasped when Joe looked over at me.

"You good?" He asked.

"You can go home now," I said, my heart sinking at those words. I looked at him to see him with an odd look on his face.

"Is that what you want?" Joe asked.

"I figured you'd want to go home," I shrugged. "It's been a weird and long night. You've already done enough. . ."

"I'm not going anywhere if you feel safer with me here," he said, gently cutting me off. His eyes widened like he just realized what he said. He opened his mouth to take back what he said, but I spoke up.

"I do." I paused before adding, "Are you okay with staying?"

"I'll stay for as long as you want me."

Joe's eyes glanced down at my lips. When he looked back up at my eyes, he slowly leaned in. I had my chance to stop him, but I didn't. Soon, his lips were pressed against mine.

Part 2

[blckbarbiedoll]

I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker (Patrick Zweig x f!black!reader)

Based on this post by @luvmoonie

(Let's pretend that Patrick and Art didn't know Tashi yet and that Patrick actually went to college😭This takes place in the college era. I'm so sorry if this is ooc or badly written btw I literally went through 4 drafts for this.)

I know I have good judgement I know I have good taste It's funny and it's ironic That only I feel that way Let's face it, you didn't exactly have the best track record for good boyfriends. Although you'd never admit to it. It just seemed like each guy you saw was worse than the last. You had decided to stop focusing on guys and start focusing on school and gymnastics. Until you met him. Patrick Zweig.

Against your better judgment, you and your roommate, Tashi, had decided to take a well deserved study break and go to a party being held at frat house. Everything was going fine until she left you to make out with some random guy. You walked over to the drink table and poured an unknown alcohol into a red cup. You quickly turned around and collided with someone.

"Shit!" You cursed, spilling the drink on your dress. "Watch where you're going!"

"You bumped into me, sweetheart." The tall brunette man replied. He took a puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke to the side.

"Asshole." You scoffed before going into a bathroom to clean yourself up.

"Let me help." He followed you into the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel before wetting it.

"I can do it." You took the towel and patted it on your dress.

"Sorry about your dress." He took another puff and blew the smoke forward.

"Can you not?" You waved the smoke away.

"Sorry." He put it out on the sink and tossed it into the toilet.

You rolled your eyes and groaned with disgust. "You're fucking gross."

"I'm Patrick."

"Good for you."

He chuckled and smirked down at you. "Ya know, this is the part where you tell me your name."

"And why would I do that?"

"I told you mine."

"Which I didn't ask for."

"Oh, you're that kinda girl?"

"What?"

"The girl who acts like she's too good for everyone."

"Not everyone. Just you."

"Is that so?"

"Yep."

"Tell me your name."

"Why?"

"Because, when I meet a beautiful girl, I wanna put a name to the pretty face."

He was annoying as shit, but he was good with his words. And so fucking hot.

"How many girls have you said that to tonight?"

"Just one."

"Should I be flattered?"

"Oh, I'm sure you're flattered all the time."

He leaned one arm against the doorframe, trapping you in between him and the door. His towering figure was scaring you and turning you on at the same time. He took the towel from your hand and set it on the sink.

"y/n." You softy spoke.

You looked down, trying to hide your grin. He placed his hand under your chin and lifted your head to meet his gaze. You melted at his touch.

"See? Was that so hard?"

"If you kiss me, I swear to god I'll kick you in the balls."

"Sure you will." He smirked, slowly leaning in to press his lips to yours.

❤︎

A few weeks later, Tashi came into you room and sat on your bed. Her grin was a mile wide as she waited for you to say something.

"Can I help you?"

"You know that guy I've been seeing?"

"The blonde?"

"Mhm."

"What about him?"

"We're going out Friday night, and he suggested a double date."

"Oh, god."

"He asked if I had a friend for his friend."

"No."

"Please?" Tashi begged you.

"No! I don't even know the guy!"

"It's just mini golf. You'll barely have to talk to him."

You sighed and thought about it for a second. How bad could it be? "Fine. But you're buying me lunch for a week."

"Deal."

Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight

You pulled up to the mini golf place and waited outside for your dates.

"You excited?" She asked you.

"Oh, yeah. I can't wait."

She rolled her eyes and smiled when she saw the guys.

"That's them!" She led you over to the two men. The blonde who you saw her with at the party, and a familiar brunette. "Art, this is y/n."

"Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too."

"This is my friend, Patrick."

"We've met." You both said in unison.

"See?" She smiled. "And you were worried about not knowing the guy."

"So, should we head over there?" Art asked.

"Yeah." Patrick smirked. "Let's head over there."

You all got the clubs and balls before heading to the course. Art and Tashi were caught up with each other, leaving you and Patrick alone. Hit pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it before taking a puff.

"You can't smoke in here."

"In where? We're outside."

"We're on a golf course."

"It's mini golf."

"You're gonna get in trouble."

"Who's gonna say something? The plastic hippopotamus over there?"

"Whatever."

You rolled your eyes and got ready to hit the ball.

"You're doing it wrong." He smirked.

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Shut up." You swung the club and hit the ball into the small pond across the course. "Shit."

"Nice job. You should go pro." He chucked.

"Fuck you."

"What'd I do to you?"

"What?"

"I thought we were getting along really well at the party. But two weeks later, you act like I killed your fucking puppy."

You rolled your eyes at his analogy. "I was drunk that night. We weren't getting along, I was just horny."

"Yeah right. You telling me you haven't thought about me at all?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you."

"I don't believe that."

"You're such an arrogant little shit."

"Wow. I can't believe I let you kiss me with that mouth." You raised the golf club and whacked it against his shin. "Ah! Motherfucker!" He groaned.

After completing the course and getting dinner, Art and Tashi went in her car back to campus, while you were stuck with Patrick.

"We'll meet you there!" She smiled as she drove away.

You sighed and got into the passenger seat. Patrick hit the gas and drove down the road.

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked.

"I didn't have your number, dumbass."

"If you did, would you have called."

"Probably not."

He sighed and pulled into an empty lot before putting the car in park. He took his seatbelt off and turned to you. "Can we start over?"

"What're you doing?"

"We're probably gonna be spening a lot of time together, and I don't wanna feel like you hate me."

"I don't hate you, I just don't like you."

"Why not?"

"You're annoying, presumtuous, skeezy, and you think everyone wants to fuck you, which they don't."

"You did."

"I was drunk."

"You're not drunk now."

"Well, I don't wanna fuck you now."

"Yes, you do." He leaned over the center console and kissed you softly. You had every oppritunity to push him away. But you didn't. Instead, you encouraged it.

All I'm asking, baby Please, please, please don't prove 'em right Please, please, please don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice

It had been a month since that night in the parking lot. Tashi and Art were happy together, and you and Patrick were...keeping each other company. The two of you had been getting pretty close, literally and figuratively. After actually getting to know him, you started to really like him.

"Are you and Patrick dating?" Tashi asked as you walked in from the gym.

"Uh..." You thought for a second. It was never something that you had actually discussed. "I don't know."

"You don't know."

"No."

"No, you don't know? Or, no, you're not dating?"

"We're not dating." I think.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah." She slipped her shoes on. "It was fine for a few double dates, but not for anything more. He just isn't your vibe."

"So, you think we'd be a bad couple?"

"Not necessarily. I just think you'd regret it. He'll probably just end up embarrassing you."

"Embarrass me how?"

"Let's just say, if I was gonna go pro and try to go to the olympics, Patrick Zweig is not the guy I'd want my name being attached to."

She gave you a smile before heading out the door. You sat on your bed and processed what she had just told you. Would Patrick really embarrass you?

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, oh Please, please, please Over the past few weeks, you had been thinking about what you really wanted. Patrick was rough around the edges, sure. But he was sweet, funny, and a really good lay. Plus, you really, really liked him. Then you thought about what Tashi said. Was Patrick Zweig really the guy you wanted to be seen with while trying to be taken seriously?

"Did you hear what I said?" He asked, putting the car in park.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I zoned out."

"I said we should do dinner after this."

"Yeah, sure. Where?"

"That new Italian place down the street?"

"That's pretty fancy for Patrick Zweig." You chuckled. "What's the special occasion?"

"y/n, I wanna take things seriously with you."

"Wow. I never expected that from you."

"Why not?"

"You just don't seem like the kind of guy to want something serious."

"I wasn't. But I am now."

"So, are we dating now?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"You. What do you want?"

That was the question you had been asking yourself. What did you want?

"I..." You hesitated. "I want you, Patrick."

He smirked and grabbed your hand before softly kissing it.

"I want you too."

"But you have to promise me something."

"Yeah. Anything."

"Please, please, please, don't embarrass me."

"Embarrass you?"

"I know what kinda guy you are. Or at least the kinda guy you used to be. I'm getting a lot of attention and the last thing I need is some news story saying that my boyfriend is a sleazy douchebag."

"Sleazy and a douchebag? Wow." He chucked.

"I'm serious. I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

"Hey, I'm not like that anymore. I really think you could make an honest man outta me."

"Woah. Let's slow down." You giggled. "I like you just as my boyfriend for right now."

"I like that too."

Well, I have a fun idea, babe Maybe just stay inside I know you're craving some fresh air But the ceiling fan is so nice (It's so nice, right) And we could live so happily If no one knows that you're with me I'm just kidding, but really (Kinda), really, really You were packing up your gym bag when your coach came up behind you.

"y/n! Great job today!"

"Thanks!"

"Listen, you've been getting a lot more publicity since your meet last week."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"It's a great thing. But, you need to be careful. With the U.S. Classic coming up, you're being watched more than ever now. I would hate for you to get some bad press and ruin your career so soon."

"Yeah. I totally agree."

"Just steer clear of doing anything or hanging out with anyone negative. Publicly, at least."

She gave you a smile before walking out of the gym. You sat on the bench and held your head in your hands. How was this gonna work?

❤︎

You laid with your head on Patrick's chest as he stroked your hair. His other hand was on your bare hip while his thumb rubbed slow circles on your skin.

"What time is Tashi coming back?"

"Five. We've got a few hours."

"You wanna grab lunch?"

"Yeah." You slowly sat up. "I'll run down to the cafeteria."

"Or, we could go out to lunch."

"Maybe another time. My coach said I should steer clear of negative publicity right now."

"I thought I was doing a pretty good job of not embarrassing you." He said, clearly irritated.

"I just don't wanna give anyone a reason to say something."

"Yeah." He nodded. You could tell he was slightly hurt despite his soft smile. "Whatever you want."

You gave him a sympathetic kiss on the cheek before sitting up to grab your clothes.

"I'll bring up some food."

Please, please, please don't prove 'em right Please, please, please don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice

Since Tashi started dating him, you and Art actually became pretty good friends. The two of you were eating dinner in the cafeteria while your partners were each finishing up some work.

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked, picking up some broccoli with his fork.

"Yeah. Shoot."

"What do you see in Patrick?"

"Uh, well.." You leaned back in your chair and thought for a moment. "He's handsome, funny, really sweet-"

"Patrick Zweig is not sweet. He's an asshole."

"Yeah, but he's a sweet asshole." You chuckled. "Why're you asking anyway?"

"Just wondering."

"Art."

"What?"

"Why're you asking about Patrick?"

"Nothing. I was just curious why you'd choose someone like him."

"Someone like him?"

"y/n, you're kind, smart, motivated, I could go on and on. Patrick is crude, uncommitted, and unserious. I love the guy, but he's a hot mess."

"He's my mess, Art."

"You need someone more put together. Someone more like you."

"Right. More like me."

"I'm serious. He'd only embarrass you."

You huffed and leaned back in your chair. He was right. You hated to admit it, but he was right. Patrick was a mess. But did you like him enough to stay with him?

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another (Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another) I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker, oh Please, please, please The past three and a half months had felt like a fever dream. Between getting together with Patrick, the end of the semester, and the U.S. Classic, you felt like you were on top of the world. Patrick had flown out to Michigan with you to support you. Once the meet was over, and you had won gold, he insisted on taking you out to dinner.

"You really didn't have to." You told him as the two of you stood outside the restaurant. "I would've been fine sitting in the hotel room eating room service."

"I know you would've. But you deserve a five star meal."

"And who's paying?"

"My dad."

"What?"

"I told him I needed money for next year's books."

You laughed and kissed him softly. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.

"Can you not?"

"I'll blow it away from you."

"Smoking is a bad habit that I don't want you being caught doing." You took it from in between his lips and stomped on it.

"What the fuck?"

"You already got in trouble for racket abuse, twice might I add. All these little things are gonna add up."

"What, are you grading me on being an upstanding citizen?"

"Yes, actually. You should be lucky there's no cameras here like there was at the hotel."

"You care way too much about publicity. As long as you're good at your sport, who gives a shit what you do in your personal life?"

"You don't get it. When you do something unsavory, it's always, 'Wow. Patrick Zweig is a mess. What's wrong with y/n l/n? Why did she choose him?' It affects me too."

"Hey." He grabbed your hands. "Relax. Let's just go inside and we'll talk about this later."

"Excuse me?" A young girl came up to you. "Sorry to bother you. I saw your meet earlier, and I just wanted to say that you were amazing."

"Thank you." You gave her a smile.

"Could I get your autograph?" She handed you a pen and paper.

"Sure." You signed the paper and waved as she walked away. "I'm going back to the hotel."

"What about dinner? I made reservations."

"You stay. I'll catch up with you later."

If you wanna go and be stupid, don't Do it in front of me

The sound of squeaking bars and feet hitting the mats filled your ears. You were standing in front of the mat, taking deep breaths before you went into a roundoff on the springboard. As you were going into a back handspring, you slipped and fell on the mat. Again.

"What's going on, y/n?" Your coached asked. "You've been out of it all week."

"I'm just distracted. I'm sorry."

"You still thinking about that boy?"

"He's my boyfriend."

"He's a distraction. If you wanna get to the olympics next year, you can't afford any distractions."

"I know. I just-"

"I don't tell you what to do when you're off the mats, but don't let a guy ruin your chance at success. At happiness."

You sighed and got up to take a sip of your water.

❤︎

'Knock, knock.'

"Hey." Art said as he opened the door. "Pat's not here."

"Yes, he is. I can hear his music."

He sighed before letting you in. "I'm gonna give you guys some space." He gave you an awkward smile before leaving the room.

"Hey." You smiled.

"Hey."

"Can we talk?"

"If you're gonna give me another lecture about not embarrassing you, you can save it."

You sat on the foot of the bed.

"Pat-" You huffed. "I am so sorry."

"You are?"

"I was wrong. I should never have asked you to not be yourself. I spent so much time caring about what other people thought of me, and I didn't even think about the most important opinion. Yours."

"It's okay."

"My coach said I shouldn't let you get in the way of my happiness, but I'm happiest when I'm with you. Even when I'm out on the mat, I miss you." You grabbed his hands. "You make me happy, Patrick."

"You make me so fucking happy." He grinned. "I never thought a girl like you would give me a chance. I know I can be a little rough sometimes."

"I love you exactly the way you are." You moved closer to him and placed your hand on his cheek. "And you shouldn't change for anyone. Including me."

"You love me?"

"I..." You thought for a second. "I do. I love you, Patrick."

He smirked before leaning in to press your lips together.

"I love you too."

Please, please, please (Please) Please, please, please (Please) Please, please, please (Please) Please, please, please (Please, please)

@swetearss

[sunafc]

Well, now you're gonna die too.

i got inspired by "funeral gray" by waterparks if y'all want to listen to that, it's a great song

cw: fem reader, smoking, alcohol consumption, suggestive but no smut, happy ending, college au

It's 11p.m. when Suna first sees you. It's a saturday night, at a party. The music is loud and it's really crowded. When you walk through the door, suddenly everything is silent and, for a moment, there's no one between you and him. Suna knows that's only happening in his head, but somehow, it feels real. And then, a moment later, all the noise and the people appear once again. Maybe he's a little tipsy.

You are on the terrace, you feel like smoking. Too bad your lighter decide to stop working right that moment. It's 3a.m. when you first see Suna. He's with some friends. You need a lighter.

"Does any of you guys happen to have a ligther?" you intrude their conversation. One of them hands you one, you lit up your cigarette and thank them. You go back to your spot, resting your back to the railing.

"That shit is gonna kill you." Suna is now beside you.

"Mhm," you take a hit and blow it in his face, "Well, now you're gonna die too."

Suna can't breathe for a second. His mind blames the smoke, his heart blames you. He clears his throat. You take another hit. Your mouth still open from blowing out the smoke. Suna takes your chin with a hand and pulls you closer to his. He can feel your breath on his lips. He can smell your perfume and your hair graze his skin. His head is spinning. His mind blames the alcohol, his heart blames you. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe it's you who's intoxicating. Your lips are on the verge of touching. Your free hand goes to his nape, your fingers through his hair. Your other hand keeps the cigarette far from him, careful not to burn him. You close the gap. He tastes like alcohol and fruit jelly. You taste of smoke. His grip on your jaw tightens. He nips at your bottom lip, maybe a little too hard. As that makes you gasp, he slips his tongue into your mouth and a hand makes its way under your sweater. He pulls your whole body closer by your waist. He's kissing you hungrily. The hand that was holding your jaw is now in your hair, pulling it a little, making you moan into the kiss. You push his chest a little to get him off of you, needing a break. You clear your throat. He takes all your figure in, your hair is a mess, your lips are swollen, your lipstick is all smudged and yet, he thinks you look so fucking hot. He passes his fingers through your hair trying to fix the mess he made. You take a look at your cigarette, it's now over.

"You owe me a cigarette." you say and, before he can say anything, you go back inside.

It's 1:30p.m. when Suna wakes up on the twins' couch. His head feels like it's going to explode, his mind is replaying what happened with you. He convinces himself it was the alcohol. There's no way he was feeling all that over someone he just met, he tells himself. However, when Osamu wakes up, Suna is quick to ask if he knows who you are.

"The girl with the grey sweater?" Osamu asks.

"The girl that looked all messy after a few minutes with ya?" Atsumu appears in the kitchen with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Yeah," Suna tries his best not to sound like he cares, "I didn't catch her name."

Osamu pours himself a glass of water, "I think that was Y/n, isn't she in class with Hitoshi?"

"What is it Suna, are ya in love?" Atsumu teases him.

Suna shrugs, "She's just hot."

You're just hot, but it's on monday at 12p.m. when he's waiting for your class to end so that he can see you, so that he can ask you to have lunch break together. And you say yes. You're just hot, but when he hands you his phone so that you can put your number in it and your fingers brush against his, his heart skips a beat. You're just hot, but no one misses the smile on his face as he receives your texts.

It's a week later, friday at 4p.m. when he texts you.

Suna: are you going to the party tonight?

Y/n: no i have a date

You're just hot, so why is he angry and leaves you on read? You're just hot, so why does he care?

It's 1a.m. when Suna sees you sitting on the porch at the party. You're smoking. He sits next to you. "I thought you had a date."

"Yeah," you take a hit, "He was boring, I left."

Suna wonders why you didn't text him to let him know you were there. But then again, he was the one to leave you on read.

"I bet you would've had more fun with me." he says.

"Mhm, yeah, I bet," you take another hit, "Why don't you show me how?"

Suna doesn't say anything to that. He puts a hand on the back of your neck and pulls you closer. With his free hand he steals the cigarette from your fingers. He takes a hit. You can't take your eyes off of his lips, you're hypnotized. He leans in and your lips part on their own. He blows it in your mouth as he closes the gap between you two. You can see the lust in his eyes and you can feel it in the way he's kissing you greedily. It's all so messy and you're so taken aback, you let him do whatever he wants as you just sit there. When he lets you go, the little smoke that remains escapes from you lips. He gives you back your cigarette.

"I thought you said this shit was gonna kill you." you say.

"It's true." he says.

"I thought you didn't smoke."

"I just wanted to talk to you."

It's 4a.m. when you go home with him. You enter his bedroom and you can't take your hands off of each other. You're taking off each other clothes as you exchange messy kisses.

It's 12p.m. when Suna wakes up with you in his bed, with you in his arms. You're still half asleep, you scoot over to be closer to him.

"Y/n, are you awake?" he asks.

"Rin let me sleep a little more." you murmur.

His eyes widen, what did you call him? He sits up and you whine under your breath.

"Say that again." he says.

"Let me sleep." you repeat.

He holds your shoulders and turns you around so you can face him, "No, what did you call me?"

Your eyes are still closed as you say, "Rin."

He kisses you, "Again, please."

"Rin."

He kisses you again.

"Rin."

He gives you another kiss. And another. And another.

"Rin." you say again.

"You're so fucking cute."

It's 12.30p.m. when Suna decides he wants to wake up to this everyday of his life.

[trippiexlove]

Serendipity - Ch. 6

Story master list

Jey POV

I sat here at this small local coffee shop, waiting for someone who I didn't even want to speak with to arrive.

As I was sitting there waiting, I felt a presence behind me. I turned around and looked into the eyes of a person I haven't seen in over 2 years.

"Hello Jey"

"Candace"

She sat down across from me as I folded my arms, giving her a straight face.

"How are you doing?"

"Cut to the chase Candace, what do you want?"

She looked taken back at what I said, "well is that any way to talk to your child's mother?"

I shook my head at her, "please, you haven't been much of a mother in the last two years, last time I check, when we broke up, you left not only me but Jeyce"

"Jey, you have to understand, I was going through things back then"

"Everybody goes through things Candace, but you left your son and didn’t think twice about it"

"I understand, but I am better now. I want to be apart of my Son's life"

"You've wasted two years, what makes you think you can just up and come back"

"Because I want my family back Joshua!"

"It's too late for that" I stood up and put money down on the table.

"what the hell is that supposed to mean Jey? Do you have another bitch around my child?"

"MY child, even if I did it is my business"

"You can't do this!" I ignored her as I walked out the coffee spot, getting in my car and heading straight home.

I didn't have time to deal with her ass.

I finally made it home, walking in seeing my mom in the kitchen. I went over and gave her a quick hug.

"How did it go?"

"I don't even want to talk about it, where's Jeyce?"

"He's in the game room"

I went into the game room to find Jeyce playing one of my video games.

"What's up son" I went over grabbed the top of his head and kiss the top of it.

"Hey dad" he said without losing focus of the game.

"I was just coming in here to let you know, dinner will be done soon so wrap the game up in a little bit"

"Yes sir"

I left out the game room and went out onto the back patio, taking a seat into one of the chairs. I decided I would call Jimmy and see what he was doing.

It ringed a couple of times until he answered "What's going on little brother"

"Please it is only by a couple minutes"

"Aye that's a couple minutes I was an only child" he joked thinking he was funny.

"Whatever Uce, I was calling to let you know Druitt said we can stay at her crib this Friday since we will be in Orlando."

"You and Druitt been getting real close lately, what's going on with that?"

"I ain't gonna lie, I'm feeling her, just taking this shit slow"

"We too grown to be having crushes, if you want her, I say go get her or somebody else will"

He was making sense. I hate that to admit it.

"Damn I hate that your'e making sense"

"Got to Uce, but I got to go, my wife just walked through the door"

"Tell sis I said what's up"

"Yeet"

*Few Hours Later*

After spending a few hours in my home gym, I quickly took a shower and changed into some shorts and laid down in my bed.

I decided to call Druitt. I hit the FaceTime and it rung for a few moments, and she finally picked up.

"Hey, what's up Main Event"

"Hey ma, what you up to?"

"I just got out the shower, and I am about to get ready to go get dinner with Jade"

I stayed on the phone throughout her whole process of her doing her hair, makeup routine, and now she was putting on her outfit.

"What you think of this outfit?" she did a little 360, doing a pose.

"You trying to look good for me?" I bit my bottom lip as I looked at her, and she blushed.

"Boy bye, ain't nobody checking for you"

"Yeah ok, you look beautiful though"

"Thank you, I need to get going, told Jade I would meet her there"

"I'll see you later on this week"

"Ok, bye Main Event" She gave me her signature smile as she hung up the phone.

* Later on that week *

Druitt POV

I made sure all my guest rooms were cleaned and bathrooms were stocked up, as Jey and his brothers were on their way in town for smackdown tonight.

As I was finishing stocking the snack cabinet, I got a notification on my phone that a car was pulling up. I looked at my cameras and seen the brothers, and to my surprise Trinity hopping out their SUV.

I quickly made my way outside, as everyone was walking up the walkway.

"TRINNY" I ran and hugged her jumping up into her arms.

"DRUUUU, Hey boo"

"Dang, well hello to you too"

I jumped down and turned to the brothers, "sorry hey y'all come on in"

I lead everybody into the house, hearing collective gasps ring out.

"Dang sis, your crib is nice"

"You got all this crib by yourself?"

"Thanks y'all, most of the time my mom comes into town and stays here when I am not home"

I gave everyone a tour, and the boys got really hyped once they seen the game room.

"Sis you got it all" Joseph said as he was looking through the various games.

"Yeah I really made this room for when my brother comes with my mom, I play a few games myself"

"I got to talk to Xavier, and get you on to UpUpDownDown" said Jey

I laughed as I showed everyone where they will be sleeping, then everyone dispersed to their rooms to settle in before having to leave for the arena, leaving me and Jey.

"Well Mr. Main Event, since you just can't bare to sleep without me, I figured you would want to room together"

Jey turned and smirked at me "just say you want me to sleep with you"

"Oh I have another room if you would like" Jey quickly held up his hands.

"I'm just playin with you" I laughed and lead him to my room.

"You can put your stuff in my closet" He quickly put his stuff away.

"You tagging along for smackdown?"

"Yeah I figured I might as well go, hang out backstage" I quickly put on my shoes. Since I was just coming to chill, I just put on a relaxed outfit.

"Yeet" He grabbed his gear bag and we met everyone downstairs. We quickly load the SUV and drove the 30 minutes to the arena.

Once we were there, we greeted everyone and immediately went into the boys locker room. As they got ready, me and Trin decided to go to catering.

We got some food and sat down at an empty table.

"Thank you for letting us stay at your crib, I didn't get to say that earlier"

I shook my head at her, "It's no problem, y'all like family so it is really no issue"

Trin gave me a look, "we could really be family if you and Jey stop playing"

"Ok, I will admit it to you, I am feeling Jey but it is just flirting back and forth" I shrugged my shoulders "If he really wanted me, wouldn't he have made a move by now?"

"No because y'all are both stubborn and don't want to make the first move" I rolled my eyes, "and you know I am right"

"Well as of right now, we are just friends and that is what it is seeming going to be"

We which topics, until we were approached by someone.

"Well I didn't think I would get to see you back on my show" I turned and saw Bayley.

I stood up, getting in her face. "last time I checked, before I was drafted, I ran SmackDown, this was my show"

We stared at each other and then broke into laughter hugging each other.

"How are you Pamela?"

"I am good, better now that I see both my girls" She went over and gave Trin a hug as well. "How are you squirt"

I rolled my eyes as her and Trin laughed, knowing I hated that nickname. "I am doing good, just coming to support y'all since you're in the city"

"Bet, it was good seeing y'all, I need to go to makeup since we the first segment" she gave us a hug as she wave goodbye.

Trin and I finished our lunch and headed back into the boys locker room. Jey was just getting finished taping his hand as we walked in.

We turned on the TV as the show began, with Damage CTRL coming out starting the show. After about 20 minutes, Jimmy and Solo had to go, as Jimmy had a match against LA Knight.

*End of Show- Jey's Dark Match*

Jey was preparing for his Dark Match against Gunther. The brothers pumping him up.

"You got this Uce!" After he did his few little pushups and dapping up his brothers, the production assistant came in telling Jey it was time.

He came over to me and we did our handshake we made up some time ago.

"Go get em' Main Event"

"Yeet!" he handed me his phone as he walked out the door. I put his phone in my back pocket.

We watched Jey's match on a monitor, conversing with each other. That was until I felt a phone vibrate in my pocket, I took it out thinking it was mine.

I soon realized it was Jey's phone and he had a message come through.

Jeyce Mom 😒

"Please Jey, all I want is my family back and be apart of our son's life"

"Whenever you get a chance please call me"

Some many thoughts were running through my mind.

Son?!! Family?!!

Who the hell is Jeyce Mom?!!

I quickly put his phone back in my pocket as I saw the match ended. He came back into the locker room shortly, everyone congratulating him on his match. He came over and I put on a poker face.

"Great match Main Event"

"Thanks ma" I handed his phone back to him and stepped aside to let him get ready so we can head back to my house.

Why wouldn't he tell me he had a son?

Is this Jeyce Mom girl his girlfriend? Has he been flirting with me this whole time and he has a whole family?

I must of been zoned out as Trin nudged my shoulder, "you good girl?"

I turned to her, giving her my best fake smile "yeah Im good"

What do you think Druitt is going to do?

Think she will push Jey away?

Like, Repost & Comment ! What you would like to see happen next?

tag list:

@xbriexx , @tribalchief2112 , @mindairy , @yana3sworld

[your-divine-ribs]

Good Touch

Words: 4.6k

A very stressed out Van comes into your salon for a massage so you help him to relax in the best possible way… I wrote this just after the Cardiff 2022 gig got cancelled 😭 // Just pure self-indulgent smut because I fancy this man so bad I have no other excuse lol sorry 😂

Imagines Masterlist Main Masterlist

"I'm so glad we're nearly done for the day, I can't wait to get home. Thank god I've not got any more clients."

Your colleague and salon receptionist Naomi looks up as you push through the door after heading back from a much needed coffee break. A small frown creases her forehead.

"Actually Y/N, you do have another client. He was a late booker from this morning. Haven't you seen it in the diary?"

"No..." Your heart sinks as she slides the appointment book towards you across the counter, squinting at Naomi's practically indecipherable scrawl. "Mr... what? Mr McCarr? McCaw? Don't recognise the name. He's not a regular then..."

Great, you sigh to yourself. A brand new client last thing on a Friday. These days your diary is full of satisfied repeat bookers and you've got to know all of them well during your time at the salon. It's almost like you can forget you're working at times, you just switch on the relaxing music and chat to them whilst you massage away their tension knots and usually their worries too. It's often soothing even for you, but this week has been long and exhausting and the thought of making polite conversation with a total stranger for a whole session when you're ready to go home is totally draining.

Well... let's just hope he's one of the quiet ones who just wants to lie there and zone out.

"It's actually McCann... excuse my terrible writing!" Naomi laughs. "But yeah he's new. He came in grumbling about his manager ordering him to come for a session. He's had some shit go down at work or something... I don't know. He was pretty vague, mumbling like he really didn't wanna be here."

You look quickly towards the treatment room door which is thankfully shut. "He's already here?"

"Uh-huh," Naomi nods, scrunching up her face. "He looks like shit... really stressed out... like maybe he's not slept for a month." She grins mischievously. "Shame really as I reckon he'd be proper fit normally!"

"Naomi!" You exclaim in a hushed whisper, stepping over in alarm. "For Christ's sake keep your voice down!"

Naomi just shrugs, unfazed, tapping her manicured fingernails on the counter. "He won't hear, the door's shut. Chill out! Anyway, enjoy... he's booked in for a full body massage!"

Her eyebrows shoot up suggestively at the final few words, but you don't partake in her smutty behaviour. You've always prided yourself on your professionalism. You'll just go in and do your job... work your magic... in forty-five minutes you'll have another satisfied customer.

You take a deep breath and open the door...

You should have realised. You should have put two and two together, but why would you? Okay... McCann isn't exactly a common name, but the thought of having a real-life, living, breathing, famous rockstar casually dropping into your salon is the last thing you'd expect on a Friday afternoon.

But sure enough there he is, larger than life and a hundred times more handsome than his videos on YouTube, perched on the edge of the treatment bed wearing nothing but a pair of tight-fitting black boxers. Very tight-fitting actually, you note, quickly wrenching your eyes upwards to meet his sparkling blue gaze and his awkward looking slightly crooked smile.

"Alright love?" He greets you in that familiar tone that you've grown to love by watching every interview of his that you've scoured the internet for.

You're flustered even though you tell yourself that you shouldn't be. In your line of work you deal with clients in various states of undress all day, every day. It's just that they're not normally Van McCann, singer of your favourite band. The very same band who've just brutally broken your heart and put a serious dint in your finances by pulling out of a stadium gig you'd been set to attend only weeks away. You'd been devastated and frustrated, not to mention fuming about the band's lack of communication with their loyal and dedicated fanbase, but all of a sudden those feelings of resentment take a backseat to your utter shock at having this most elusive of your idols sitting there before you, eyes glowing with a subtle kind of amusement at your stunned expression.

"Oh... errr sorry... wasn't I supposed to get my kit off yet?"

"Yes... yes... of course!" You blurt, checking yourself when you realise you sound overly eager, making out you're clearing your throat so you can take a moment to compose yourself, forcing your inner fangirl back into hiding. "I mean, sure. I can't massage you fully dressed now, can I?"

Van nods but his smile slips as you step forward to retrieve a towel off the bale on the wall, and now you're a little closer you can see what Naomi was talking about. The skin under his eyes looks dark-tinged and puffy, his skin sallow under the lighting. He sighs under his breath as he gets to his feet. "Might as well get this over and done with then."

His comment makes you bristle slightly but you recall Naomi's earlier comment and you take the chance to explore his lack of enthusiasm. "Oh, my colleague mentioned something about your manager making you come? You don't sound too thrilled about it. Most people love coming for a treatment. It's therapeutic you know."

"Yeah well... I don't need therapy," he says quickly, his voice tight and defensive. You've obviously hit a nerve. You hadn't realised that you'd stepped back, recoiling, but Van notices. He looks immediately embarrassed, offering an apologetic smile, pushing a hand through his hair as he talks.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap... it's just... errr... it's just I've really been going through it at the moment. Things have been... difficult... really difficult." His eyes dart around the room before they meet yours again. "You could say pretty much everything I touch is falling apart these days."

You're full of intrigue, literally bursting with curiosity to find out the reason behind the band's demise, but he's made no reference to show that he  knows that you're aware of who he is. In fact you think he probably suspects you don't and he's relieved about that. Despite your desperation to find out the band's fate you really can't probe him. You don't want to scare him off, but you also don't want to treat an unwilling client. It just doesn't feel right.

"Look... I'm really sorry to hear that, but I probably shouldn't treat you if you don't want to be here..."

Van cuts you off, looking contrite. "It's not that I don't want to be here, really. Please don't take offence. It's just that I don't know how a bloody massage is supposed to miraculously cure all of my problems, that's all."

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, and you smile back, holding out the towel to him which he accepts.

"I'm sure it won't... but it will relax you, I can promise you that. You can just lie back and close your eyes and check out of real life for a little while. C'mon, why don't you just try it? You might like it. Let me take care of you for a bit."

Oh... you hadn't meant it to come out quite like that, so intimate-sounding. You feel your cheeks begin to warm as his grin widens.

"Well, if ya put it like that how can I resist? I'm sure I'll be in very capable hands! Now... how do you want me... on the bed?"

His last line's said innocently enough but there's an underlying cheekiness simmering just below that gorgeous smile that makes your belly flip. You bite back the smirk that's threatening to surface along with a very inappropriate smutty comment, trying to restore the composed and professional demeanour that you usually display with your clients.

"Yeah, just lie down right here." You look down quickly to hide your flushed cheeks, patting the soft sheet draped over the bed. "If you start off lying on your front then I can do your back, and then you can turn over." You pause, mentally bracing yourself before you say the next line, but ending up blurting it out in a tumble of rushed words. "You can... umm... take everything off if you like... you don't have to but some clients prefer it that way. It's completely up to you though. You can use the towel to cover yourself if you do."

Fuck... your cheeks are on fire now, your pulse starting to race. The room suddenly feels like a furnace as you watch Van quickly hook his fingers under the elastic waistband of his boxers without hesitation, starting to inch them down his slim hips.

"Oh... I'll step out and give you some privacy!" You exclaim, hurriedly whirling around to avert your eyes at the realisation that he means to completely strip off right there and then in front of you.

"Not a problem," comes his relaxed voice from behind you. "I'm not shy."

A giggle of pure embarrassment bubbles up inside and you bite down on your lip to stem it, trying to control your pounding heart. You need to pull yourself together and fast. In a moment you've got to turn around and deliver a relaxing and professional massage but all you can think of is getting your hands on his naked body for all the improper reasons.

"Just let me know when you're ready!" You say brightly, stepping forward to peruse the massage oils, deciding on a blend of patchouli and sandalwood. You tap the small speaker on the shelf and a wave of soft, soothing meditative music fills the small room. Scented candles are already lit to give the room a calming ambience.

"Ready... I'm all yours!" You hear him call back.

Yes... yes you are, you smile to yourself as you move over to dim the lights before finally turning around.

He's laid out on the bed on his front as instructed and for the first time you can get a good look at him uninhibited. His wiry body is lean but taut, his skin pale save for the slight flush where he's obviously caught the sun on the tops of his arms and around his neck. The tiny towel that you gave him is draped temptingly over his pert little ass and you curse yourself for not giving him an even smaller one.

"How are you feeling? Are you comfortable enough?" You ask, tipping some of the oil into the palm of your hand and warming it between your fingers, coating them in the fragrant liquid.

"Uh-huh I'm good... yeah I'm all good," he replies, shifting slightly where he lays and bringing his arms up to fold across the end of the table. He lays his head sideways against his crossed arms. You have a clear view of his face from here and you can see that his eyes are shut. "I've never had a massage before... I don't really know what to expect."

"Just relax," you tell him. "That's all you need to do. Just leave the rest to me."

You step forward until you're inches away from the table, looking down on him. You can hardly believe that this man who's dwelled in your fantasies up until this moment is lying here in front of you, naked as the day he was born, completely at your mercy. Tingles of excitement are sparking through you and again you have to take a moment to compose yourself, surreptitiously shaking out the tension from your fingers which are trembling slightly.

You start by placing your palms on either side of his spine just below his neck, trailing your hands down to his lower back, then up again, this time moving in circles, firmly smoothing his flesh as you go. He lets out a small sigh and you feel him sink down further into the bed.

"That feels nice already," he murmurs. "Think maybe I am gonna enjoy this after all."

Not as much as I'm going to enjoy it, you muse to yourself, smiling as your fingers nudge the towel aside to smooth over the top of the contours of his ass, thumbs pressing into the small of his back.

"I'm only just getting started," you say. "I can feel a lot of tension in your muscles, so I'm going to have to be thorough."

His only reply is a soft "mmmm" which sounds far more sensual to your ears than it probably should. Your mind wanders, imagining him flipping over and pulling you down on top of him, hitching up your dress whilst you straddle him and grind shamelessly against him.

You try to clear your mind, moving upwards again and using your fingers to caress the muscles across the tops of his shoulders, working out the knots of tension as you go. His skin is soft and smooth, more so than you would have imagined, and the way your oil-soaked hands glide across his flesh is arousing you beyond belief.  His body glistens in the candlelight. Maybe this was a bad idea. You can feel your professionalism ebbing away as you bring your hands down to focus on his slender waist, not making a move to replace the towel when it slips to the side, exposing his bum.

Van doesn't seem to notice or maybe he does but he just doesn't care. He has a blissed-out expression on his face, his eyes screwed shut and his lips slightly parted, a small crease adorning his brow as he lets out a sound that's halfway between a whimper and a sigh.

"You have no idea how good that feels... really. You're some kind of goddess, I'm sure of it."

His words fan the flames that are already simmering inside of you and you can feel the ache grow between your thighs as you shift your position to move down to his legs.

"Oh, I don't know about that," you reply, laughing softly. "My clients always seem to go away happy though."

"I don't doubt it.... mmmm... god that's so good... ohhh..."

There he goes again. Christ... those little moans that he's making are not helping matters. If he's this expressive just from a basic massage how would he react if you showed him your real talents? You push the thought away, reaching for more oil before you begin on his legs, wrapping your fingers around his calves as you massage your way up, spreading your hands wide as they slide up his thighs.

"F... uck," he groans, low and drawn out and you see him push his pelvis into the bed as your fingers trail dangerously close to the sensitive area between his parted thighs. Now you're certain that you're not the only one getting turned on, but it's hardly surprising, with each stroke you're pushing the boundaries of decency, edging closer and closer to forbidden territory. His arms move from their relaxed position so he can grip the edges of the bed and you smile to yourself as you feel his body stiffen.

There are strict rules of conduct for masseuses in your salon and you're breaking every single one. If your manager could see you now you'd be facing a disciplinary at the very least, or at worst you'd be fired. That doesn't stop you though, your fingers kneading teasingly at a spot that makes him visibly shiver until you feel the muscles in his thighs clench up tight under your touch.

"Are you still feeling okay?" You ask, finally moving your hands away, wiping the excess oil on the towel before you gently drape it back over his bum.

"Yeah... yeah I'm all good," he answers, but his choked up voice would suggest otherwise. Maybe you're going too far. Your salon prides itself on offering the most soothing treatments, leaving clients feeling calm and relaxed, not wound up tight like a spring, gripping the treatment bed like their lives depend on it.

"Are you sure? I know my massages can be pretty... intense."

He lets out a throaty chuckle. "Intense? That's one way to describe it! Think maybe I'm... errr... enjoying it a little too much."

You can't help the grin which stretches wide on your lips at his words which are like music to your ears, a green light to continue in your endeavours to make him feel good. You've never really considered your ability to make a person's body react to your whim a talent before, more like a gift. So what's wrong with bestowing a gift of your own on someone else every once in a while? He so obviously needs it.

"It's time to turn over now," you tell him, grasping the edge of the towel to lift it, allowing it to screen him as he moves.

"Al... already?" He stutters, uncertainty in his voice as he shifts. "I... errr... umm... okay then."

He rolls on to his side and you train your eyes on the far wall as he does to allow him his privacy, only looking back down to replace the towel when he's settled on to his back.

Oh...

All of a sudden the source of his hesitancy is abundantly clear as you see the the towel tenting slightly over his cock. You have to fight hard to suppress the self-satisfied smirk you can feel trying to surface, quickly looking away, your eyes meeting Van's in an awkward moment of understanding.

He smiles sheepishly, his cheeks tinged an adorable shade of rosy pink and you fleetingly consider acknowledging the situation you've both found yourselves in, but you decide against it, opting to just carry on instead.

You can feel his eyes on you as you turn to reach for more oil then you step to the head of the bed, looking down on him. He blinks up at you, stunning pale greeny-blue eyes framed with thick, long lashes. You're certain you're not imagining the wordless exchange that you can feel taking place, a tender kind of lustfulness that his imploring expression conveys. He wants this. You know he does.

You place your hands on either side of his neck, letting them trail down to his collar bones and then outwards across his chest before drawing them back and repeating the movements over and over. You can feel his heartbeat thundering under your fingertips at each pass, his chest rising and falling deeply.

"You okay?" You check in on him and he nods, eyes swirling with intensity.

"Uh-huh..." he breathes out, then he clears his throat. "You're pretty incredible at this, you know that?"

You smile, soaking in the praise, wondering if he thinks every client of yours gets this extra special attention that he's receiving, wondering if he cares?

"It's working then, is it?" You grin.

Van laughs and you can feel it vibrate through his chest under your palms. "Put it this way, I'm not exactly thinking about my problems right now!"

"Good... that's good... that's the aim."

You step back around to the side of the bed so you can reach further, moving your hands down over his abdomen, letting your fingers slip under the edge of the towel and trail down the V of his hips. He lets out a shaky exhale and you glance up to see his eyes fluttering shut, his mouth slightly agape. He looks divine lying there, his oiled skin shimmering in the flicker of the dim candlelight, the temptation to pull away the towel so strong that you find your fingers twitching with longing. That's just a step too far though. Teasing is one thing but giving one of your clients a sneaky hand-job is another entirely. Besides, just because he's turned on it doesn't mean he's giving you consent to relieve his tensions in such a sensual way. He'd definitely have to ask... or maybe even beg...

Fuck... you wonder what that would sound like falling from those full pink lips of his, the same lips that are currently being pulled in between his teeth to stifle a groan. You coax it from him anyway as your hands move down to grip his thighs, pushing them slightly apart as you knead at the sensitive flesh. The towel rises up even further in response and now you know you've really crossed the line. Van's gripping the edges of the bed tightly, his breathing coming heavy and ragged. His hips press upwards as if to chase your touch as your fingers wrap around the top of his thigh under the towel, the backs of them just barely grazing his balls as you move away.

"I think we'd better finish there for today," you say hurriedly, watching carefully for his reaction, pleased when his eyes flick open with a look of dismay. "That's if you've... umm... had enough?"

He pauses for a moment, his brow furrowed in a hopeful kind of eagerness. "You mean there's more... if I want it?"

"Yes," you say with no absolutely hesitance, boldly meeting his needy gaze, gauging his reaction whilst you try to formulate your next words in your head. "I mean I think we both know that there's more than one way to relax somebody... a more unconventional way to relieve that obvious tension if you like."

You try not to think of Naomi innocently sitting outside at the reception desk filing her nails whilst you're in here propositioning a client in the most sordid kind of way. Despite her earlier teasing you just know that she'd be horrified by your actions. You start to fret that maybe you've made a mistake, but then Van speaks, and your worries melt away in an instant.

"I want it... I really want it... please."

In a deft motion he tugs at the towel and it falls away on to the bed, exposing him completely. As expected he's gloriously hard, his cock just as delectable as the rest of him, thick and rigid with a flushed tip, just begging for your attention. You waste no time in wrapping your fingers hungrily around his girth, swiping your thumb over the sensitive head.

"Shit," he mutters. "I can't believe this is happening."

He hoists his body upwards, propping himself on his elbows, craning his neck to watch as you begin to caress him, taking your time, sliding your oil-slicked fingers slowly and deliberately up and down his length.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," you murmur, the shock and excitement of what you're doing hitting you as he lets out a throaty groan and you worry that Naomi might hear.

"No... don't stop," he gasps breathlessly. "Please don't ever stop. It's so good... mmm."

His eyes flick between yours and his cock, dark and heavy-lidded, strands of his hair fallen forward on to his face which is creased in pleasure. You don't think you've ever witnessed a sexier sight, the obvious enjoyment etched on his face, his hips pistoning upwards needily as he fucks himself into your hand.

You pick up your pace, gripping him firmly, flicking your wrist over the head at each stroke, loving the way he writhes under your touch. His jagged panted breaths mingling with his choked groans and the obscenely wet sounds of your slick hand moving over his length seem to bounce off the walls of the small room making everything seem more intense.

"Keep going," he groans pleadingly. "Please... just like that... ahh fuck."

You're torn between wanting to stretch this out and wanting to drive him to his peak, the sinful noises he's making travelling down to your own core, soaking your panties through. You move to cup his balls with your free hand, gently massaging them, satisfied when he grits his teeth and lets out a particularly primal sounding groan.

"I can't hold on... I'm gonna come... fuck, fuck... FU-CK..." he hisses, thrusting into your hand, his whole body spasming. You watch him, transfixed as his jaw falls slack and his eyes glaze over as the swells of his climax peak and he comes, hard, milky splatters of cum painting his belly and spilling out over your knuckles.

You tug him a few more times until you've milked every last drop out of his orgasm and he's shuddering under your touch, his head hanging forward, muttering incoherently under his breath.

You release your grip on him, reaching for the towel and perching on the side of the bed, waiting for his reaction as you clean off your fingers, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Holy fucking shit," he finally murmurs, raising his head, his blue eyes meeting yours, full of wonder and shock and an awe-like reverence that makes your breath catch in your throat. "I know I'm brand new to this whole massage thing but I'm guessing that's not how it usually goes down?"

He accepts the towel from your outstretched hand as you offer him an awkward smile, the enormity of what you've just done hitting you now. "I can promise you I've never done that before. I... I don't know what came over me... sorry."

"Sorry?" He echoes quickly, his eyes bulging in disbelief. "Please don't apologise! That was..." he pauses, shaking his head, searching for the right words. "That was probably one of the hottest experiences of my life! Really... I mean it!"

A deep scarlet flush washes over you. "I hardly think so..."

"Trust me, it was," he cuts in, his eyes bright, a kind of youthful sparkle in them that looks good on him. "My only regret is I didn't even ask you your name... you know... before..."

He stops, chucking warmly, dabbing at the sticky mess on his belly before he drapes the towel over his lap and swings his legs around so he's sitting next to you on the bed.

"It's Y/N," you say, quietly.

"Van," he offers, holding out a hand to you in a greeting gesture, laughing when you accept it. Then you're laughing too at the absurdity of the belated formalities now when you've already shared an intimate moment together.

"Note to self," he grins up at you as you break away and get to your feet. "Make sure you're on first-name terms with a girl before you accept her offer of a hand-job!"

"Oh my god!" You giggle, cheeks glowing, huge grin splitting your face in two as you raise up a hand to your face, embarrassment flooding you now.

"I... errr... suppose I'd... errr... better give you some privacy now... you know, to get dressed." You start to back away, glancing down as you start to turn, feeling awkward now the heat of the moment has dissipated and it's painfully obvious the two of you are nothing more than strangers thrown together under a happy coincidence.

"Hold up... wait... Y/N..."

Van's voice comes urgently, stopping you in your tracks. You spin around, coming to face him, looking at him expectantly, surprised to see an awkward hesitance about him. He's still naked save for the small towel he's holding which is barely covering his modesty and you battle with yourself to keep a straight face.

"On my way in I saw this little coffee shop just across the road. I don't suppose you'd like to go and grab a drink with me would ya... if ya not busy that is? I figured you probably got off work soon?"

His voice rises up hopefully and your stomach flips with excitement but you try not to let it show, keeping your inner fangirl in check who's bursting to start doing a celebration dance at this dazzling turn of events.

"Yeah," you nod, returning Van's warm grin with one of your own. "Yeah... I'd really like that."

[sunghoonnsupremacy]

#LOVETALK! - warnings: cuss words, slapping.

001. - 002.

my legs felt wobbly as if they were about to break into tiny pieces resembling porcelain, feeling his stare on my figure. walking over to my friendgroups lunch table, I try to keep my focus away from the cat shaped eyes that are boring into my soul.

"soomin-ah, are you okay? " my friend karina asks with a worry filled look on her face. I nod with a smile and sit down next to her, preparing to eat my food. my other friends, keeho and aeri quickly wave my direction as they continue to munch on their lunch.

a sigh escapes my mouth when I feel my stomach grumble at the lack of food. I grab my chopsticks and eat some gimbap, trying to eat as much as i could before the bell would announce more pain and suffering.

when all of a sudden, a silence falls upon the table without me noticing.

my thigh shivers under the cold touch of somebodys hand, while sensing a presence sitting down next to me.

"hey soomin. " his voice basically in need of an emotion. multiple (3) pairs of eyes fall on us when i turn to look at him with a shaky smile.

"hello jungwon. " I look into his eyes with a look of confusion. "are you still coming over? " his voice rearranging the mechanism in my brain.

when I accidentally take too long to reply, karina nudges my arm from beside me, knocking me back into my senses.

a fast nod moves my head, his smile appearing once again and squeezing my thigh. "good." and with that he stands up and walks out of the canteen.

"what was that? " keeho loudly asks me. I struggle to reply while thinking of a excuse. "we have a project due next week together so we agreed on meeting up at his place today. "

"yeah? what class? " keeho asks with narrowed eyes. "literature." if only they heard the lies on the tip of my tongue. aeri nods uncertainly and goes back to eating. a sigh escapes my mouth, doing the same.

"anyway, I heard there was a party happening soon at the frat house. you know the one where sunghoon is in. " karina announces with a giddy smile and claps her hands at the mention of another party.

we all laugh at her enthusiasm, karina pouting in frustration. "hey whats so funny? " she crosses her arms over her chest and grumbles.

"nothing rina, you're just an alcoholic. " aeri giggles, still finding it funny.

"do you know the date? " I speak up, wanting to hear more about the booze filled event. karina checks her phone and scrunches her eyebrows, replying with a "in two days i suppose. thats friday. "

shit. Im supposed to be at jungwons day that aswell. how do i cover that up? isn't he friends with sunghoon? would he let me go? I let out a frustrated noise as they all look at me, weirded out.

"you can't come? " keeho asks with a frown. I sigh once again and rest my head on my palms. "I can't, my parents invited me over for dinner and to stay the night. " another perfect lie being said by me today.

"oh come on im sure you can convince them to let you go out. you're 18 already. have some fun once in a while! " karina giggles and puts her hands in a prayer motion. a bunch of please's come out of my friends mouths as I laugh at their desperation and nod.

"okay okay ill ask them. ill let you guys know later! " I shoot them a quick smile and finish my food, almost perfectly timed with the bell ringing.

all four of us let out a groan at the sound, knowing that we have to spend another hour or two in this shit hole before getting to go home and into their comfortable bed (them atleast).

we say our goodbyes, hence our classes being in different parts of the school building. I quickly run over to my biology class, not wanting to piss off my grumpy teacher even more.

sitting down in my seat, I turn around to greet nicholas, a former neighbor of mine. "hi nicholas! how are you today? " a sweet smile sits on my face while I wait for his response.

he smiles back warmly and answers, "hey. im good, how are you, pretty? " he shoots me one of his signature winks, resulting in me giggling at his bad flirting attempt.

a glare settles on his face when he notices me laughing at him instead of falling for him. "one day I'll get you to take me seriously. " he rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair.

" yeah sure, mr. lover" I sign quotation marks, mimicking what he calls himself both offline and online which I find quite embarrassing might I say, hence him not pulling one girl ever.

he groans and kicks my chair. "you just don't get the love I send out. " he sighs, flipping his hair like a disney princess. I snort at this, knowing the only love he ever shows to anybody is his sock.

before we get to chat more, the teacher hurries into the class, apologising for his late arrival leaving me quite suprised since I've never seen the dude own up to his mistakes before and I've been in this class for a year now.

biology goes on smoothly, me answering a couple questions because im petty and like to beat nicholas in everything.

after class ends, we basically run out of the classroom in happiness that the day is over. nicholas throws his hand over my shoulder and walks me towards the school entrance.

I sigh, knowing I have to head to jungwons house instead of mine, otherwise it wouldn't end no where near well.

I give him a quick hug and say my goodbyes, trying to please jungwon by being on time.

after leaving a couple knocks on his door, his tall figure emerges from the wooden frame and pulls me in by hand, leaving me a bit stunned at his very forward action.

"jungwon what are you-" not even giving me the chance to reply, he locks the door and slams me onto the ground. I wince, since I was wearing a skirt and the cold wooden floors didn't do much help on the impact when I hit them.

"what were you doing with nicholas? huh? " he slowly walks over to me, glaring at me with cold eyes, something very different than seen from his at-school persona.

I try to think of a reply but his glare stops me from doing so. he bends down to my level and harshly grabs my chin with his slender fingers.

"answer me you bitch. you know I hate being ignored." his words are a slap onto my face as his fingers dig deeper into my flesh.

"nothing I was just saying bye to him. there's no need to get worked up. " I grumble, not meeting his eyes before realising I could've and most definitely should've worded that differently.

"don't speak to me with attitude, or we're gonna have a problem. " he lets go of my face and quickly pulls me up and slams me against the wall.

what is with this dude and causing me temporary back pain?

I nod and look back into his eyes, searching for some sort of emotion. "I'm sorry. " a quiet, whimper like sentence leaves my mouth, not wanting him to increase the ache in my body even more.

he rolls his eyes at my weak attempt to apologise , but lets me go. "don't pull that shit again, soomin. " he walks away into his (most assumed) living room and leaves me in the hallway.

"you can leave now. " he shouts at me from the living room, letting me go. I take the chance and get the hell out of there before he got even more angry.

how long has it been like this, you may ask? for about a month now. it started from cute smiles to creepy notes in my locker, leading up to this mess.

I've tried to escape his hold many times but it led to failed attempts. now I just learn to endure it.

arriving at my house, I plop down onto my bed, falling into a deep sleep. let's hope tomorrow won't be as tiresome as today was.

[peterfriggingpan]

Broken promises

Harry Styles fanfic

Warning! Contains smut.

"Oh come off it, Harry. You can't be serious!", Mark exclaimed, looking flabbergasted.

"I'm telling you, no more drinking. I promised.", Harry said, taking a slow sip of his soda, looking towards the bar.

They were hanging out at the pub as usual. It was a pub tucked away in a quiet little street, around a half hour away from London. It was the only place they had left. The only place he had left. To be normal. To feel normal. To pretend everything was the same as it was.

No one ever recognised him there. Or at least they pretended they didn't. And it was good enough for him. It was the same as he was doing. Pretending.

Mark had ordered his usual beer and was almost through with it, wondering aloud if he should order another one or switch to a gin. When Harry said he was sticking to sodas all night and every night from then on, Mark couldn't believe his ears. Bloody Harry Styles, doing everything from booze to weed to coke to everything all at once at his prime, was going stone cold sober.

"You're really good at making promises, aren't you?", his oldest friend remarked. Pretty shit at keeping them though, he thought to himself.

Harry smirked, his eyes never leaving their new-found target.

"So, are we still hanging out at the pub then? How can you be sober at a bloody pub? That's ridiculous, that is.", Mark ranted, visibly annoyed.

"Where do you propose we hang out then?", Harry prompted, knowing full well he didn't have an answer to his question.

"My place?", he asked, hopefully.

"Yeah, no thanks. Your place is full of your bloody screaming children. You know I can't stand that for more than thirty minutes at a time."

"Yeah, right. Sometimes I think you love those kids more than me.", he said, laughing.

Harry didn't reply. He was busy staring towards the bar.

Mark turned around annoyed, to finally see what his friend had been staring at for the whole time they were there. Yeah, remarkably shit at keeping promises, he thought again, realising that his friend was looking at a group of girls sitting at the bar doing shots. Staring at one particular girl.

He sighed. "Just go over there already. I have my bloody screaming children to get home to."

"Don't mind if I do", Harry said, chucking the remainder of his soda in one gulp. He picked up his glass and walked towards the bar, muttering a half-arsed goodbye to his friend.

Mark left without saying goodbye back, but Harry didn't care. Mark was as loyal as they come, and no matter what he got up to he always seemed to be able to forgive and forget.

He had gotten to the pub about ten minutes before his friend that night, which gave him plenty of time to scope out the place. It was almost empty, apart from the table with the three usual pals of the owner, who where there every day of the week, and a group of girls who were probably on a pub crawl, half of them looking already drunk.

Mark used to joke that the only thing keeping their favourite pub from closing were Harry's generous tips. Harry thought he was probably right, judging by how dead this place was on a Friday night.

He had sat at their usual corner table and ordered a soda, trying to convince himself that he was going to keep his promise. He waited patiently for Mark, whilst trying to listen in to the girl's conversation to pass the time. He was keeping his head low subconsciously, trying not to get recognised by them, as he was so used to doing, but they didn't even glance his way once.

"Next round's on me!", a petite blonde girl from the group shouted, her high voice way louder than it needed to have been.

A bunch of excited "woos" came from the rest of the girls, and they all cheers'd together when their beers arrived.

"To Jenn, for finally getting the promotion she was chasing after for fucking two whole years!", one of them said.

The blonde girl screamed excitedly, meaning she must've been Jenn.

Harry shamelessly checked them all out, one by one.

The girl named Jenn was the shortest of them all, but she screamed the loudest, and she seemed pretty drunk out of her mind already.

Vomit city, Harry thought, even though every cell of his being was yearning to be as drunk as her right now.

Next to Jenn, was another blonde, with long curly hair, blue eyes and a prominent nose. She was laughing constantly, her high-pitched laugh instantly putting Harry off, even though he thought she looked pretty hot in that short leather skirt she was wearing, contrasting her doll-like face.

Then, there was a really tall girl, probably about the same height as Harry with the heels she had on, with bright red lipstick and a white dress, light-brown curly hair and the same blue eyes as the weird laugh girl. Looks like sisters, Harry thought, and then his eyes fell to her right ring finger, where he spotted a gold band. He instantly reached for his own ring finger, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where a ring would be.

Moving on to the last girl, he thought, but he couldn't see her clearly from where he was sitting.

He waited for a bit, figuring she was bound to move around and he could catch a glimpse at her, but she was sitting pretty still.

He was staring at her all night long, while Mark was chatting away at him, blabbing about his wife wanting him to wash the dishes every night and how he was sick and tired of driving all around town to pick up his kids from some place just to take them some place else. Harry knew Mark loved doing those things, and he was just messing about, just to have something to say. Mark's life was pretty much the same every day. Harry could sense that he felt embarrassed about that, every time they got together.

When they were growing up, everyone thought Mark was going to be the one to make it. He was on his way to be a brilliant football player, everyone said so. And then he hurt his knee pretty bad one day at practice when he was 15, and he wasn't the same ever since. So he got a job at a bank, rose steadily through the ranks, got married to a plain girl, bought a plain house and had plain children. Pretty embarrassing, compared to his world famous best friend.

Harry wished he could understand how jealous of his plain life he was. And he pretended he wasn't. That's what he was best at.

The last girl was wearing high-heeled black leather boots. Black sheer tights, short black skirt or dress, he couldn't exactly tell. Toned legs underneath.

He caught a glimpse of long dark, almost black curls.

He heard her singing along to the song that was playing. Some song about sweaters. Warm, sweet voice. Decent, he thought.

He heard one of the others call her Rosie.

I like the name Rosie.

Mark had finally caught on. He told him to go over there, so Harry went. As if he was waiting for his permission.

He walked slowly towards the bar, settling across from her, asking the barman to get him another soda.

She turned around at the sound of his voice, and he could finally get a good look at her.

She had long black hair, very long indeed. It was loosely curled, and it gave her a wild look.

High-arched black full brows, verging on unkempt, but suiting her.

Piercing eyes. Almond- shaped, honey coloured, almost yellow in certain lighting. Shooting daggers at him. Feral.

Sharp jaw-line, straight nose. Gold hoop earrings.

Full, rose lips.

Rosie.

Harry was taken aback by how intimidating she looked, almost unapproachable. He took his soda in hand, ready to get back to his table, disappointed.

And then she smiled. She smiled at him. Big, beautiful, genuine smile. Reaching her eyes, making her squint, tiny lines appearing next to them.

Oh, sweet Rosie.

Harry was hooked. And so was Rosie, it seemed, cause she excused herself from the group and went around the bar to sit next to him.

"Wanna buy me a drink?", she asked, smiling that big smile of hers.

Bold.

"Don't you think you've had enough?", Harry asked, smirking back at her.

"How about I buy you one then?", she remarked.

Very bold.

Harry laughed, and motioned to his soda. "Can't. Going sober."

"Oh, that's okay.", she said, still in high spirits. "I'm Rosie. And you are?"

"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you.", he said shaking her hand. Soft, warm, hand. He held it slightly longer than necessary, but she didn't seem to mind.

"You seem a bit more together than your friends.", he said laughing, as he noticed Jenn across the bar, almost falling out of a stool.

"Oh, yeah, I can hold my drink a lot better than them.", she replied. "It's okay, though, we all deserve to let loose sometimes."

"Couldn't agree more.", he smirked.

"Wanna come back to my place?", she asked, without hesitating. Unashamed, she stared at him intently, her suggestive look emboldening him.

"Hell yes", he exclaimed. Impulsive. He shoudn't have said that.

Too late now.

She took his hand, waved goodbye to her friends, and they were gone.

Harry drove, cause she didn't have a driver's license. He was taken aback by that, asked her how old she was. She said thirty, raising her eyebrows, as if waiting for a bad reaction. Challenging him to say anything about her age.

"Twenty-nine myself.", he said, making her at ease. At least she was older than she looked. Harry didn't think he'd like younger-looking girls, and yet here he was.

They chatted absentmindedly for the whole short drive, his hand brushing against her thigh as he was changing gears. He felt goosebumps coming on his arms, every time that happened.

Electric.

They arrived at her place. She lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, with a tiny bright yellow two-seater sofa, a bookshelf overflowing with worn-looking books, two glasses and a coffee mug half-full on the coffee table next to a laptop.

Feels more like a home than my stupid mansion, Harry thought, and then smirked at his depressive thoughts.

Poor rich man.

She led him to her bed.

"Take off your clothes.", she commanded, as she sat on the bed and looked at him expectantly, taking off her boots at the same time.

"As you wish.", he said, grinning mischievously.

He had missed this part, the new, the exciting, the unknown.

"You have a lot of tattoos, Harry.", she stated, after she watched him painstakingly remove his garments one by one.

Harry chuckled nervously, running his hand through his overgrown locks, that were at that awkward length between short and long.

"Yeah, is that a problem?"

"No problem at all", she laughed and pulled him onto her on the bed. She swiftly took off her top. Harry realised she wasn't wearing a bra. How come I didn't notice that before?, he wondered to himself.

It was those eyes. He couldn't take his off of hers. They seemed to have darkened in colour, making them seem almost black now.

Lust.

He kissed her hungrily, realising instantly that that was what he was waiting for his whole life. To kiss those lips. That was his life's purpose.

Sparks were flying. Their chemistry was undeniable.

She seemed to think the same, cause she reciprocated the kiss with enthusiasm.

He took her skirt in his hands and pulled it down, taking her knickers and tights along with it carelessly, almost ripping everything apart.

He placed two fingers inside her, and she moaned loudly. He would do everything to hear her moan like that again.

He felt how wet she was, and couldn't help but smile as he was kissing her, feeling proud of himself.

She took him in her hand, her soft, warm hand. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there.

What the hell is the matter with you? You're acting like a bloody teenage virgin!, he thought, extremely annoyed at the hold she had over him. You've just bloody met the girl.

He ran his free hand through her long locks, slightly pulling at it. She seemed to like that, so he pulled even harder.

He continued to finger her, slow and fast and then slow again. He knew that drove them crazy. She was moaning even more loudly now, and he placed his hand over her mouth, laughing as he said, "You're gonna wake everybody up, babe. We don't want an audience now, do we?"

Rosie muttered, "No, we don't. This is just between you and me, babe." And then she moaned, longer and lower than before.

"You're driving me crazy.", he managed to spit out.

She reached over to her nightstand and took out a condom, passing it to him.

He removed his hand from her, and she grunted in protest.

He put the condom on as fast as he could, and climbed over her.

"I want you in me. Right. Now.", she said in between moans.

Harry obliged happily.

It was fast and it was slow all at once. He found himself stopping just to look at her for a bit. She looked even more like a wild animal now, her hair all over the place, her eyes looking at him hungrily, her fingers touching him all over, her full lips whispering his name.

Harry didn't want it to end. And yet, it was over in a matter of few minutes. Harry laid by her side whimpering. He could hear her panting, trying to catch her breath, her heart beating fast.

"That was amazing, Harry", she breathed, placing her arm on his chest, giving him a soft kiss.

"It sure as hell was, Rosie.", he agreed and heard her laughing.

Harry stayed there, staring at her bedroom ceiling, as he calmed himself down, trying to think clearly for once that evening. He had to get out of there soon.

He heard her heartbeat steadying, her breath slowing down, until she finally fell asleep.

Harry got up very quietly, trying his best not to wake her.

He put his clothes back on, and found his cellphone.

He typed a text and sent it.

"Coming home now. Not even a sip of booze, just as I promised. See you soon. x", it said.

He searched the pockets of his jeans and found what he was looking for.

The gold band that fit his right ring finger perfectly. He put it on and sighed.

He opened the door and left without a word, without a moment of hesitation, not noticing the pair of wild honey eyes looking back at him, tears threatening to spill over them.

Harry was pretty good at breaking promises.

----

I'M BACK BABY!

Had a sudden surge of inspiration and wrote this in one sitting. Hope you liked it! Sorry it's a bit long. Please let me know your thoughts.

Love, C.x

[fancassticfiction]

So, I did this manifestation ritual at the end of 2023, and I thought I would reflect on what happened and what didn't.

Frist, a bit about the ritual. It's called the 12 Magical Nights. In a notebook, on the 20th, you write down thirteen things that you have the power to make happen in your life. You then fold up each individual wish and burn one wish a day for the 12 days following. You don't look at the wishes. They are for the universe/fate/whatever diving entity you believe in to know. Now, if you're here thinking I'm bad at math, you aren't wrong, but not about this. After you burn your twelve wishes, the thirteenth wish becomes your responsibility because you can't just leave everything to fate. I wrote all thirteen in my journal just to reflect at the end. I have a video that breaks it down more at the end of this post.

But now I want to reflect, so here are the manifestations I made:

I thought I'd reflect on them since I'll do this year's ritual this Friday.

1. Publish my thesis - this one didn't happen. The process of trying to adapt this to multiple journals and their many different requirements just to be told my thesis was too unconventional and too personal was just not worth the very little time I had. I've recently been humoring the idea of just posting the whole damn thing on here or something.

2. Going to see multiple concerts in 2024! - This one happened! At the time of writing my manifestations, I only had tickets for Hozier, but not long into the year, Sleep Token announced a tour that I ended up going to! So this one came true!

3. Go on 3 dates! - This one definitely happened! I had been on 3 dates by March and met my now-ex boyfriend. We went on many dates.

4. Get a new record player! - I forgot I had manifested this one, but yeah! She just came in last week! The speakers for her come in Tuesday.

5. Going to strengthen friendships and meet new friends! - I'm very thankful. This was the wish I didn't burn, so this became my responsibility, and both happened! Thanks to my concert wish, I made some incredible new friends, some of whom are on here and who I'm very thankful for meeting (even if we're just goofy pictures of masked men to each other). I even met someone who lives just a mile down the road from me when I went to see Sleep Token in another fucking state.

6. Find a way to resolve stagnation in my career - I'm debating on if this one has happened or not because I did find a way to resolve my stagnation, but I'm not sure i want to go through with the solution I found. I've been debating on trying to teach in a new school district or quitting teaching all together (both ideas scare me.)

7. More opportunities to write - I won't go into a lot of detail here, but one of my beloved mutuals showed me a chance to write about music for a publication...and I got it. it's unpaid, but I don't give a shit about that because I ACTUALLY HAVE A CHANCE TO WRITE AGAIN, which actually feels pretty fucking great. I can't wait to tell you all about it when some of the writing happens. :)

8. Meet some online friends in real life - I actually had a plan to meet a friend over the summer, but something happened in their outside life that kept that from happening. I didn't get to see them because of it. I did however send some mail to some other friends in a little informal summer gift exchange, and I have those gifts in a place of honor. 🩷

9. Celebrate my sibling's graduation - So, this one didn't happen yet because things happened. However, they start their capstone in January, so the time is getting close at hand!

10. Get a larger bed - I made this list when I was sharing a twin bed with three cats, and I thought a larger bed would give me more space to sleep. Now, I share a full bed with three cats and still have no room to sleep.

11. Build my personal and professional confidence - I'm the department chair and have been invited to conferences. I feel pretty confident at work (at least until kids and their parents hit me with some emotionally abusive bullshit). I also took the scary leap to start dating, and I feel pretty good about that (even if my relationship ended). I have also become quite a road trip fiend even though I used to hate driving (the things I do to see live music).

12. Start therapy - This should've happened. It needs to. I just haven't.

13. Start singing lessons—I'm going to try this manifestation again. As a teacher, I could use voice lessons; teachers get significant vocal damage. Also, I used to sing all the time, and it would be fun to jump back into it with some actual training this time.

And here is the video for anyone that wants a breakdown.

[glitterguts13]

Personal rant incoming

I have a 16 year old chihuahua, shes the light of the whole family, everyone adores her. She has issues with HGE (aka explosive diarrhea) but this is an issue we have dealt with in the past and we were always able to get a handle on it.

Our vet is wonderful, always gives us very clear directions, but also doesn't bullshit us. We've always told him, with all our pets, if in his professional opinion they have no quality of life and are suffering more by being treated, to tell us so we can let them go.

Friday my old girl had another flare up, but we were fully iced in. There was no way to get out and into town without putting ourselves in very serious danger. We live super rural, no snow trucks or anti ice shit on the roads of us. When it shows it ices until it melts.

So we gave her leftover medicine from her last flare up 6 weeks ago, and waited. Finally Sunday it melted just enough we could get to the emergency vet. It took 3 hours to make a 1 hour drive, but she needed medicine and fluids and I couldn't wait any more.

The vet there was super fucking dismissive. He said she's 16, she's old, it's probably not HGE and most likely is cancer, and in his opinion we should have her put down.

Please keep in mind, I have always upheld my personal belief that if my babies are suffering and I can't treat them, I will let them go.

But I just didn't feel like he was right.

I told him I was going to see her usual vet Tuesday, and I would discuss the topic of euthanasia then, but I didn't feel right making a snap decision at that very moment when she was still active, eating and being herself.

He told me it was responsibility to consider her wellbeing over my personal emotions and I, admittedly, snapped a bit.

I told him I understood he was giving me his professional opinion, but I also know my dog, and I know she's stable, she just needs some fluids and a refill on her medicine.

He reluctantly took her back and give her some fluids, but told me he didn't feel comfortable giving me more medicine. Luckily it's non prescription, so I ordered more from fucking Amazon while I was waiting for them to bring her back to me.

He brought her back, asked me if I was certain I wouldn't consider putting her down and I said yes, that was something I only felt comfortable letting her usual vey do, and I also wasn't going to euthanasia her when she was still acting perfectly fine.

Yes, she's sick, she's shitting everywhere, it's a mess, but she's not in pain, she's eating drinking and running around.

So I took her to her usual vet this afternoon, explained the situation. He was horrified.

He said she's extremely healthy considering her age, (btw by this time the HGE flare up has ended, she's pooping nice and solid now) and all he would advise is we swap to a gut healthy food and a stronger prescription probiotic.

He said he was going to give that emergency vet a call and speak to him about all this. Apparently, this vet has a history of being rude (the hospitals are connected through the same network)

I asked him point blank if I was being unreasonable. If I was putting her through too much, if letting her go was the right thing to do.

He assured me it wasn't.

She's healthy, happy and has a few more years in her as long as we keep her flare ups controlled, and putting her down right now would only be the answer if I was tired of cleaning up poop.

I honestly thought it was a joke till he told me, no, a lot of people euthanasia their dogs because they don't want to deal with cleaning the floors and giving them baths constantly.

I mop the floors every hour on the hour and wash her butt and feet everytime she poops. I can't imagine putting her down over something she can't control.

Sorry for the long winded story, I'm just so angry and shaken up that he wanted to euthanasia my baby just because she's old and has a leaky butt sometimes.

I can clean my floor, I can give her baths, I can't replace the love she gives us in return. I know she's old, I know her time is coming, but goddamn I will not give up just because things are a little difficult Jesus christ.